Read Online The Cottage on the Corner by Shirlee McCoy - Free Book Online

when she finished caring for her father. Rick had been diagnosed with dementia two years ago.
    Most days Emma looked worn-out.
    Today she looked amused.
    â€œGood morning, Stanford,” she said. “Finally decided to make your appearance, I see.”
    â€œI’ve been checking in all morning, Emma,” he grumbled, snagging one of the cookies that she kept on a plate at the corner of her desk. Charlotte’s doing. She delivered baked goods to the police department and convalescent center once or twice a week.
    â€œLong night?” Emma asked, not even trying to hide her smirk.
    â€œNot any longer than any other night,” he lied.
    â€œThat’s not the way I hear it.” She smiled full out, her gray eyes sparkling with glee. “The way I hear it, you were up all night listening to your daughter scream.”
    â€œShe’s not my daughter,” he argued, even though he knew it was useless.
    â€œThat’s not what Ida said.”
    â€œWhen did you talk to Ida?”
    â€œWhen she and the historical society showed up with donations. One of the ladies saw poor little Zuzu sitting in Charlotte’s station wagon dressed in nothing more than faded footy pajamas, and it was obvious she was in desperate need. She decided then and there that they needed to take up a collection.”
    â€œPlease tell me you’re kidding.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to hold on to his temper. This wasn’t Emma’s fault. It wasn’t Zuzu’s fault. It wasn’t the historical society’s fault or Ida’s or whichever one of her cronies had made the decision to take up a collection. It was Morgan’s. The lying, scheming—
    â€œI’m not. There’s a two-foot pile of clothes sitting on your desk. I would have told Charlotte about it when she dropped off the cookies, but she didn’t come in.”
    â€œShe left cookies,” he pointed out as he snagged another one. Some fancy little thing with fruit jelly in the middle and white frosting on the top.
    â€œZimmerman Beck left the cookies. He also left a message.”
    â€œI guess you’re going to tell me what it was?”
    â€œHe says Gertrude McKenzie is growing pot in her greenhouse. He knows that the state just legalized the use of it, but he’s sure that she needs a license to grow and distribute it. Plus he doesn’t want the kind of riffraff in the neighborhood that he’s sure her little operation is going to attract. He wants you to cut off the greenhouse lock and check the situation out.”
    â€œI’m sure he does.” Zim had a habit of seeing trouble where there wasn’t any. He’d caused his own trouble the previous year, and that had kept him quiet for a while. Apparently he was back to his old habits.
    â€œAre you going to check it out? Because if you don’t, he’ll be back. Again and again and again.”
    â€œTrust me, I know. And I’m not in the mood to deal with him. Give him a call and tell him I’ll be out there this evening, will you?”
    â€œNo problem.”
    â€œAnd if any historical society ladies stop by with donations while I’m here, don’t send them back to my office. I have work to do, and I don’t want to be interrupted.”
    â€œUh-huh,” she responded.
    â€œWhat’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded. He wasn’t in the mood for games, and he wasn’t in the mood for gossip.
    â€œWhy does it have to mean anything?”
    â€œBecause you’re looking at me like you know a juicy secret that you’re just dying to share.”
    â€œYou’re the one with the mysterious kid that no one in town has ever seen or heard of. Not me. So I’d say you’re the one with the secrets. Can I help it if I want to know what they are?”
    â€œZuzu is not mysterious. She’s my ex’s kid. Morgan dropped her off at my place last night. She