Read Online The Final Tap by Amanda Flower - Free Book Online Page B

could come over to watch him. Dad was a drama professor at the local college. During the summer months when he wasn’t teaching, he lived with Hayden and me on the Farm, but during the school year, he stayed in college housing. Now that I thought about it, it wouldn’t be a bad thing to talk to my father anyway. He and Beeson worked at the same college. Even though Dad was in the drama department and Beeson was in horticulture, he might have some insight on his colleague. He might even have some suspects for Beeson’s murder, if it was murder.
    â€œKelsey, I really don’t think this is a good idea.” Gavin still hadn’t given up trying to talk me out of the meeting.
    â€œIt’s the only idea I have, Gavin,” I said. “If my hunch is right, Detective Brandon has promoted you to prime suspect in Beeson’s death. We have to find other suspects before she gets too stuck on the idea. Trust me, I know how she operates. She’s like a dog with a bone when she makes up her mind. You said that your club meets at the shelter house in the park, right?”
    He nodded, resigned to the situation.
    I decided that Gavin had been through enough interrogations for one afternoon. “I’ll meet you there at seven sharp,” I said as I headed to the door. “I have to take Hayden and Tiffin home. Seven o’clock. Don’t forget.”
    â€œHow could I possibly forget?” he muttered.
    A few feet away, Tiffin lay on the path that led to our cottage, panting softly, and Hayden had flopped into the snow, making a half-hearted snow angel. I gave him my hand and he grabbed it. I pulled him to his feet. “Let’s go home. I bet you’re ready for a snack.”
    He perked up. “Can I have ants-on - a-log ?”
    â€œSure.” I laughed. My father had taught him to call celery with peanut butter and raisins “ ants-on - a-log .” It had been one of my favorite snacks as a kid too.
    As we walked the snow-covered path that led through the sugar maple grove, I found myself checking the woods more often than I usually did. I didn’t know what I expected to see. Some masked man brandishing a hand drill, perhaps? Even though the Farm was isolated, I’d never felt frightened over living in the woods, but now, a tiny bead of fear crept into my brain. Most of that was for Hayden.
    Inside our cozy cottage, Frankie, Hayden’s one-eyed tabby cat, hissed at us when we entered. Neither of us thought much of it. Hissing is just the way Frankie, named after Benjamin Franklin, chose to communicate. Hayden scooped up the cat and gave him a squeeze. Frankie tolerated this with a scowl and nothing else. Had I picked him up like that, I’d be heading to the emergency room. Frankie and I had an understanding: I left him alone, and he left me alone. It was a good arrangement.
    Hayden set his cat on the couch. Tiffin happily yipped at his boy, shaking his tailless rump with everything he had. Hayden rolled on the floor with Tiffin while I made his snack. The pair’s earlier fatigue was all but forgotten. Frankie watched them with a curled lip of disdain before dashing up the stairs, most likely to lie in wait under Hayden’s bed.
    I called my dad, planning to ask him to watch Hayden tonight during the Sap and Spile meeting. There was no answer. I left a message asking him to call me, but I wasn’t hopeful that he would get it. As an actor, my father had an artist’s temperament and was hard to nail down at times.
    I grimaced. The last thing I wanted to do was call my ex-husband , Eddie, and ask him for help. Benji was another babysitting option, but I knew she had class on Thursday nights.
    I’d just set my cell phone on the kitchen counter when it beeped. I snatched it up, expecting to see a text from my dad. It wasn’t from Dad; it was from Chase: My twenty-four -hour shift ends at 5:30. I will come to the Farm.
    Not necessary. I’m