Read Online The Writer by D.W. Ulsterman - Free Book Online

short, bright blue-green eyes, and a firm, thin-lipped mouth. She was just over five feet, narrow-hipped, and someone who clearly had little fear of anything or anyone.
    “Hello, young lady, my name is Bella Morris. I own that little shack up there and have since me and my husband, God rest his soul, bought it about, oh, forty-odd years ago when it was hardly more than a lean-to that the fishermen used to buy their supplies from. You want some ice cream? We have the best on the island!”
    Adele smiled, immediately charmed by the new arrival.
    “Yes, that sounds great! My name is Adele. My taxi will be here soon, though.”
    The sheriff cleared his throat.
    “I ain’t done making my point, Bella!”
    Bella stepped between Adele and Martin Speaks and then placed a hand on each of her thin hips.
    “Oh yes you are , Sheriff. There will be no more of you telling, uh, telling…”
    Adele realized the older woman had already forgotten her name.
    “Adele.”
    Bella nodded her head and then glowered at the retired sheriff.
    “Adele! That’s right, you won’t be telling Adele here what her business is because it’s not for you to decide. And stop blowing that god-awful cigarette smoke in my face. You would think after the stroke you would have given those coffin nails up. Now git!”
    Martin threw his hands up while muttering something inaudible under his breath. He shuffled back toward his boat, and then turned around and pointed at Adele.
    “You make any plans to be back on that island talking to the writer you see me first, understood? You got my boy’s number. You let Will know and he’ll let me know. And a word of advice you’d do well to follow…don’t go pissing me off. There are plenty of people around here who are smart enough to follow that advice, and I expect you’re just smart enough to do the same.”
    Bella gave a disgusted sigh.
    “Shame on you, Martin! My patience with you has run out for the day.”
    “Actually, Sheriff Speaks, I would like to sit down and interview you as well. I figure you could fill in a lot of the details regarding the investigation into, uh, Mrs. Stone’s death. So if we could schedule…”
    The sheriff took two shuffle-strides toward where Adele and Bella stood. His eyes were lit by some terrible agitation that only increased Adele’s intrigue surrounding her brief time on the island.
    “Why would you bring that up? Why in the hell would you think I’d want to talk about such a thing? It’s time for you to leave – NOW.”
    Bella pushed Adele forward and whispered a warning.
    “He’s about ready to blow. He might just kill you or himself, so I suggest you do as he says and get moving.”
    “Good-bye, Ms. Plank!”
    It was Will Speaks. Adele waved good-bye while Martin poked a finger into Will’s side with enough force to cause his middle-aged son to flinch.
    “Don’t you even think about it!”
    Think about it? What’s that supposed to mean?
    Adele wasn’t given time to find out; Bella continued pushing her up the ramp toward the small store.
    “He’s a grumpy old fool, but normally not that aggressive. I wonder what it is about you that bothers him so much?”
    Adele shrugged and watched Bella disappear behind the old, nicked and gouged wood counter that separated the store’s main area from a tiny kitchen space in the structure’s back right corner. The entirety of the store area consisted of three handmade wood shelves with the bare essentials: bread, canned goods, and a surprisingly large selection of wine. When Bella remerged she was holding an ice cream cone with a single scoop of vanilla.
    “It’s never too early in the day for ice cream.”
    Adele thanked her and peered through the store’s open entrance toward the road to confirm her taxi hadn’t arrived. Then she turned her full attention to the elderly store owner.
    “So do you know Mr. Stone?”
    Bella nodded.
    “The writer? Oh, yes, he’s been coming here off and on for years, usually