Read Online Skeletons in the Attic (A Marketville Mystery Book 1) by Judy Penz Sheluk - Free Book Online

thought. For all I knew, this could be a reprint. In the meantime, I could send her a few photos of it, back and front, the same way I had with the locket.
    I turned the poster over and saw what I now believed to be my mother’s backhand slanted handwriting, albeit slightly more spidery than the examples found on the back of the photos. Had she been worried when she wrote the inscription?
    For my very own Calamity Doris on her 6th birthday. Love always, mom.
    Not love always mom and dad. Just love mom. Except that my birthday wasn’t until May 1st, and my mother had left on Valentine’s Day. Did that mean she knew she was leaving and wanted to be sure I had a birthday gift? Or was she the sort of person who bought things when she saw them and saved them for the occasion? And why had my dad hidden it in the attic all these years, wrapped in bubble plastic? Was it because my mother hadn’t signed it from him as well? Was there some sort of hidden meaning? I realized I didn’t know the answer to any of those questions, and probably never would.
    I looked at the vibrant colors, the vivid fifties imagery. I could imagine this poster hanging in my bedroom as a little girl. It would have made adorable wall art. It still might, come to that. I decided to give it a try. It wasn’t like I had anything on the bedroom wall now, and it was unique.
    Besides, it was a gift from my mother. The only one I had. That had to count for something.

Chapter 12
     
    I could have done a lot of productive, potentially case-solving things on Saturday—‘could have’ being the operative words. Instead, I gave myself permission to take the day off from sleuthing and carpet removal to explore the twelve-mile paved trail system that ran through the center of Marketville. According to the Town’s website, the trail followed the Dutch River and passed through parks and green spaces, past wetlands and historic cultural sites, and had links to trails in two surrounding towns. It sounded like a runner’s paradise.
    The great thing about running—besides the fact that it allows you to eat more than kale and cabbage soup—is that it clears the clutter from your mind. By the time I arrived home, I had made the decision to show the photographs I’d found to Royce.
    With that decision made, I felt as if I would at least accomplish something investigative. I went to work getting the lasagna—and myself—ready for Royce. I knew it wasn’t a date, but it didn’t hurt to put my best face forward.
     
    Dinner went better than I could have hoped for. Not only did Royce have a healthy appetite, he was beyond complimentary, insisting the lasagna and Caesar salad was the best he’d ever had, and showering great praise on a store-bought baguette I’d turned into bruschetta. He also showed no reluctance to sitting cross-legged on the floor while we ate, our plates and wine glasses on the coffee table.
    “It’s either here or at the bistro table in the kitchen, and that isn’t really meant for a dinner,” I said. “Besides, the smell of garlic might be a bit overwhelming in there. I know I need to find a dining room table, but I’m not sure yet how I’m going to use this space. I’ve been thinking of knocking down the wall between the kitchen and living room. Even if I don’t do that, the kitchen is long past its best before date.”
    “Why don’t you buy an inexpensive patio set? At least that way you’d have a table and chairs, and you’d have something to use outside as well.”
    “That’s a great idea. Why didn’t I think of that?”
    “You would have eventually.”
    “I’m not so sure. What about the wall?”
    “You could definitely knock down the wall here, and it would make a huge difference in opening up the room. Mind you, the wall between your kitchen and this room happens to be load bearing, but there are inventive ways of using an island with pillars to get around that, which is what I did in my house. Your father had been