I typed both lists into a Word document and saved the file.
There, that was more like it. My files were password protected, so I didn’t need to worry about anyone seeing them. Not that anyone would get on my computer anyway.
Once, when Miss Aggie was missing, we’d thought she might have left a clue to her disappearance on my computer or the one at the library. That had turned out to be a false lead. Her computer activities at the library had simply been research about posh hotels and restaurants. And she hadn’t touched my computer. But I’d made a new rule that day that my computer was off-limits.
I heard the roar of Miss Jane’s ancient Cadillac as she pulled into the garage, followed by Frank and Miss Evalina’s new car. He’d bought it when they got married but wouldn’t part with his pickup truck, which stayed parked most of the time. I glanced at my watch. Three o’clock. I’d have time to take Buster for a walk before I had to get ready for dinner. Mabel had offered to stay and serve, but I’d told her she didn’t need to. We’d put everything on the sideboard buffet style, and I was sure Miss Jane would help me.
I walked into the foyer to see all five of the seniors pilingin. I hadn’t heard Miss Aggie’s Lexus. I was surprised she’d opted to go to the center with the rest. Most days she insisted on being in the big middle of whatever was going on at Pennington House.
“Victoria, is Jack Riley still coming tonight?” Miss Aggie asked. Since she’d found out his adopted granddaughter, Samantha, was her own niece, they’d become friends. They talked on the phone often, and in June, Miss Aggie had visited the family in Germany. I still wasn’t convinced he was totally innocent in all the goings-on at Pennington House. Or that he hadn’t dealt in stolen property during World War II. But I’d try to reserve judgment for now.
“Yes, ma’am. They’ll be here at six thirty, dinner at seven.”
“Oh dear. That’s very late.” Miss Georgina’s voice trembled.
“Georgina, don’t be silly,” Miss Aggie retorted, hands on hips. “You know we always eat at seven when we have guests.”
Martin darted a venomous look at Miss Aggie and opened his mouth, then shut it and turned to Miss Georgina. “If you want to eat at six like we usually do, I could take you to Hannah’s or the steak house in Caffee Springs.”
Pink washed over Miss Georgina’s plump cheeks. “Thank you, Martin. That’s very kind. But I wouldn’t want to miss hearing more of Mr. Riley’s stories.”
I grinned. This would be interesting.
“Fine. I didn’t wanta go anyway. Just trying to be nice.” Martin’s face flamed. “Don’t know why you want to listen to that windbag, though. I doubt half them stories of his are true.”
Miss Jane snorted and headed to her room, following Miss Evalina and Frank, who were halfway up the stairs.
Miss Georgina twisted her hankie, misery in her pale blue eyes. “I guess we could go to Hannah’s if you want to, Martin.”
“Naw. I don’t want to.” Martin stomped off to the rec room.
Taking pity on the sweet lady, who stood staring after Martin with brimming eyes, I patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about him, Miss Georgina. He’s just a bit jealous, I think. He’ll get over it.”
“Jealous? But why?”
I laughed. “Because Martin is sweet on you, honey, that’s why. You’re a mighty pretty lady, you know.”
“I am?” A blush washed over her face, and her eyes shone.
“Of course. Now why don’t you go rest awhile before dinner and let him stew a bit? It’ll be good for him.”
Delight filled her eyes. “Thank you, Victoria, I believe I will.”
I grinned as she waltzed up the stairway. Scarlett O’Hara had nothing on her.
A black-and-white cat zipped across the Edisons’ yard and around their shed. Buster barked with excitement and raced after it, dragging me along like flotsam. “Buster, slow down!” A pain shot from my wrist to
There, that was more like it. My files were password protected, so I didn’t need to worry about anyone seeing them. Not that anyone would get on my computer anyway.
Once, when Miss Aggie was missing, we’d thought she might have left a clue to her disappearance on my computer or the one at the library. That had turned out to be a false lead. Her computer activities at the library had simply been research about posh hotels and restaurants. And she hadn’t touched my computer. But I’d made a new rule that day that my computer was off-limits.
I heard the roar of Miss Jane’s ancient Cadillac as she pulled into the garage, followed by Frank and Miss Evalina’s new car. He’d bought it when they got married but wouldn’t part with his pickup truck, which stayed parked most of the time. I glanced at my watch. Three o’clock. I’d have time to take Buster for a walk before I had to get ready for dinner. Mabel had offered to stay and serve, but I’d told her she didn’t need to. We’d put everything on the sideboard buffet style, and I was sure Miss Jane would help me.
I walked into the foyer to see all five of the seniors pilingin. I hadn’t heard Miss Aggie’s Lexus. I was surprised she’d opted to go to the center with the rest. Most days she insisted on being in the big middle of whatever was going on at Pennington House.
“Victoria, is Jack Riley still coming tonight?” Miss Aggie asked. Since she’d found out his adopted granddaughter, Samantha, was her own niece, they’d become friends. They talked on the phone often, and in June, Miss Aggie had visited the family in Germany. I still wasn’t convinced he was totally innocent in all the goings-on at Pennington House. Or that he hadn’t dealt in stolen property during World War II. But I’d try to reserve judgment for now.
“Yes, ma’am. They’ll be here at six thirty, dinner at seven.”
“Oh dear. That’s very late.” Miss Georgina’s voice trembled.
“Georgina, don’t be silly,” Miss Aggie retorted, hands on hips. “You know we always eat at seven when we have guests.”
Martin darted a venomous look at Miss Aggie and opened his mouth, then shut it and turned to Miss Georgina. “If you want to eat at six like we usually do, I could take you to Hannah’s or the steak house in Caffee Springs.”
Pink washed over Miss Georgina’s plump cheeks. “Thank you, Martin. That’s very kind. But I wouldn’t want to miss hearing more of Mr. Riley’s stories.”
I grinned. This would be interesting.
“Fine. I didn’t wanta go anyway. Just trying to be nice.” Martin’s face flamed. “Don’t know why you want to listen to that windbag, though. I doubt half them stories of his are true.”
Miss Jane snorted and headed to her room, following Miss Evalina and Frank, who were halfway up the stairs.
Miss Georgina twisted her hankie, misery in her pale blue eyes. “I guess we could go to Hannah’s if you want to, Martin.”
“Naw. I don’t want to.” Martin stomped off to the rec room.
Taking pity on the sweet lady, who stood staring after Martin with brimming eyes, I patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about him, Miss Georgina. He’s just a bit jealous, I think. He’ll get over it.”
“Jealous? But why?”
I laughed. “Because Martin is sweet on you, honey, that’s why. You’re a mighty pretty lady, you know.”
“I am?” A blush washed over her face, and her eyes shone.
“Of course. Now why don’t you go rest awhile before dinner and let him stew a bit? It’ll be good for him.”
Delight filled her eyes. “Thank you, Victoria, I believe I will.”
I grinned as she waltzed up the stairway. Scarlett O’Hara had nothing on her.
A black-and-white cat zipped across the Edisons’ yard and around their shed. Buster barked with excitement and raced after it, dragging me along like flotsam. “Buster, slow down!” A pain shot from my wrist to
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