Read Online Sleuthing at Sweet Springs (The Sleuth Sisters Mysteries Book 4) by Maggie Pill - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Maggie Pill
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if those birds die of starvation.”
I tried to tell myself that Niece Gail might not be as tuned in to the needs of chickens as I was. Still, Clara would have made clear what needed to be done. Did her failure to follow through make Gail guilty of plotting against her aunt, or was she simply a flawed human being who didn’t recognize the needs of other species?
I couldn’t answer that question, but I did make a decision about the eggs. I’d split them with my sisters and count them toward payment of Clara’s bill with the Smart Detectives.
Chapter Eleven
Barb
On Friday evenings, Rory and I often went for dinner to a little place out of town. Though many of Allport’s citizens were aware their chief of police dated a local private detective, it was easier if we left the city limits for our dates. That way no one came to our table to complain about the city commissioners’ latest non-decision on the new parking ramp. If he was really fed up, Rory would turn off his cell phone for an hour, trusting that nothing earth-shattering would happen before we finished our meal.
When I spoke of Rory to others, I never knew what to call him. My boyfriend—? lover—? soulmate—? Whatever he was, he looked good when I picked him up at his place. Rory’s American Indian blood showed in his shiny-black hair and dark eyes. His Irish mother’s genes had contributed an impish smile and a tendency for his hair to curl if he let it grow beyond a half inch long. Climbing into my car, he leaned over to kiss me lightly on the cheek. I caught the scent of Irish Spring as I accepted the greeting before pulling away from the curb.
I knew people—my sisters included—talked about us, wondering when we’d “set a date” or move in together. The truth was that neither Rory not I wanted to give up the independent lives we’d carved out for ourselves. There were no marriage plans. There’d be no common household. We understood each other even if no one else did. Still, it was nice to have someone to spend an evening with, someone who cherished the time we spent together. Maybe that was the correct word: Rory was my Someone.
“Any more snitch reports this week?” I asked, picking up on conversations we’d had over the last month. Mayor Dan Rygwelski had received several emails about Rory, and Janet, the city’s secretary, had received several calls about the chief, none of them flattering.
“Yesterday, in fact. Lady Tattletale called to report I took an hour and forty minutes to eat my lunch.”
“She’s timing your lunches now?”
He huffed in disgust. “Apparently she didn’t notice I was taking notes like a college freshman. It was a working lunch with the chief from Clare, discussing how to deal with Halloween pranksters.”
“You’re plotting against Trick-or-Treaters?”
Rory tapped the dashboard absently. “The City Fathers expect us to prevent the more harmful mayhem that comes with America’s current favorite holiday. Chief Jackson and I were comparing methods, so the long lunch was justified.”
“Rory, you don’t take advantage of your position in any way.”
He shifted position on the bench seat. “Someone thinks I do.”
“You have no idea who’s filing these complaints?”
“None, except it’s a woman.” I slowed to make the turn into the restaurant as he went on. “Dan just laughs about it. Janet is disgusted because she’s been told she can’t argue with the caller. So far, it’s a joke to them.”
I didn’t find it funny. “But you work so hard. To not be able to confront your accuser is the worst kind of injustice.” Pulling into a parking space and shifting into park, I turned toward him. “Can you trace the calls or track down the source of the emails?”
He shrugged. “The woman knows technology. It would take more resources than we’ve got in a small city police force.”
“Why don’t you bring in the state police?”
He spread his hands. “For some loon who makes up
I tried to tell myself that Niece Gail might not be as tuned in to the needs of chickens as I was. Still, Clara would have made clear what needed to be done. Did her failure to follow through make Gail guilty of plotting against her aunt, or was she simply a flawed human being who didn’t recognize the needs of other species?
I couldn’t answer that question, but I did make a decision about the eggs. I’d split them with my sisters and count them toward payment of Clara’s bill with the Smart Detectives.
Chapter Eleven
Barb
On Friday evenings, Rory and I often went for dinner to a little place out of town. Though many of Allport’s citizens were aware their chief of police dated a local private detective, it was easier if we left the city limits for our dates. That way no one came to our table to complain about the city commissioners’ latest non-decision on the new parking ramp. If he was really fed up, Rory would turn off his cell phone for an hour, trusting that nothing earth-shattering would happen before we finished our meal.
When I spoke of Rory to others, I never knew what to call him. My boyfriend—? lover—? soulmate—? Whatever he was, he looked good when I picked him up at his place. Rory’s American Indian blood showed in his shiny-black hair and dark eyes. His Irish mother’s genes had contributed an impish smile and a tendency for his hair to curl if he let it grow beyond a half inch long. Climbing into my car, he leaned over to kiss me lightly on the cheek. I caught the scent of Irish Spring as I accepted the greeting before pulling away from the curb.
I knew people—my sisters included—talked about us, wondering when we’d “set a date” or move in together. The truth was that neither Rory not I wanted to give up the independent lives we’d carved out for ourselves. There were no marriage plans. There’d be no common household. We understood each other even if no one else did. Still, it was nice to have someone to spend an evening with, someone who cherished the time we spent together. Maybe that was the correct word: Rory was my Someone.
“Any more snitch reports this week?” I asked, picking up on conversations we’d had over the last month. Mayor Dan Rygwelski had received several emails about Rory, and Janet, the city’s secretary, had received several calls about the chief, none of them flattering.
“Yesterday, in fact. Lady Tattletale called to report I took an hour and forty minutes to eat my lunch.”
“She’s timing your lunches now?”
He huffed in disgust. “Apparently she didn’t notice I was taking notes like a college freshman. It was a working lunch with the chief from Clare, discussing how to deal with Halloween pranksters.”
“You’re plotting against Trick-or-Treaters?”
Rory tapped the dashboard absently. “The City Fathers expect us to prevent the more harmful mayhem that comes with America’s current favorite holiday. Chief Jackson and I were comparing methods, so the long lunch was justified.”
“Rory, you don’t take advantage of your position in any way.”
He shifted position on the bench seat. “Someone thinks I do.”
“You have no idea who’s filing these complaints?”
“None, except it’s a woman.” I slowed to make the turn into the restaurant as he went on. “Dan just laughs about it. Janet is disgusted because she’s been told she can’t argue with the caller. So far, it’s a joke to them.”
I didn’t find it funny. “But you work so hard. To not be able to confront your accuser is the worst kind of injustice.” Pulling into a parking space and shifting into park, I turned toward him. “Can you trace the calls or track down the source of the emails?”
He shrugged. “The woman knows technology. It would take more resources than we’ve got in a small city police force.”
“Why don’t you bring in the state police?”
He spread his hands. “For some loon who makes up
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