Read A Dead End (A Saints & Strangers Cozy Mystery Book 1) for Free Online Page B

their heads again.
    “Then it couldn’t have been either one of you,” Kit said simply and turned to find where the kettle had been stashed in the kitchen. There were unpacked boxes everywhere she stepped, but she’d already unearthed the kettle the day before.
    Fifteen minutes later the three women sat at the small, round table by the sliding glass door, discussing Ernie.
    “I have to admit I’m relieved,” Thora said. “I’ve been so frazzled since he disappeared. I’ve had horrible dreams about him this past year, riding on top of his motor home like it was a wild buffalo, trying to run me down. I even saw visions of him when I went to visit my daughter in Naples in the spring. Can you imagine?” She shook her head in dismay and set down her cup. “Not that I’m happy to learn he’s dead, you know. But maybe now I’ll stop imagining him.”
    “You had dreams that you were Ronald Reagan’s mistress, too,” Phyllis said. “His death didn’t stop you.”
    “I have been known to have prescient dreams,” Thora insisted. “My mother used to say I took after my Aunt Hazel who was well-known for her third eye.”
    “That’s a psychic thing, not a deformity,” Phyllis whispered to Kit. “Thora’s batty as hell, but she’s not in-bred.”
    “I heard that,” Thora said. “I’m batty as hell, not deaf.”
    “I told Peregrine about the body,” Kit said.
    Both sets of eyes widened.
    “What did she say?” Phyllis asked. “Did she confess?”
    Kit laughed and sipped her tea. “Not exactly. Did you know she’s planning to move to Sedona?”
    “Her sister lives there,” Phyllis said. “They’re both widowed now. I guess they want to live nearer to each other.”
    “Peregrine mentioned something about your rose bushes,” Kit said, eyeing Thora suspiciously. “Why didn’t you tell me that you complained about his motor home?”
    “Who are you, the fuzz?” Thora asked.
    “Not anymore,” Kit said.
    “Not ever,” Phyllis pointed out.
    “Either way, I’m surprised you didn’t mention it.”
    “Why would I complain about my old neighbor to my new neighbor?” Thora bristled. “It’s impolite.”
    Thora had a point.
    “Nobody on the street liked looking at that beast in his driveway,” Phyllis said. “It bothered everyone, not just Thora and Peregrine.”
    Kit eyed Phyllis. “So it bothered you?”
    Phyllis leaned forward and met Kit’s gaze. “Of course it bothered me. It was an eyesore. A giant motor home on a bucolic street. He may as well have put a rusty Chevy up on bricks and called it a day.”
    Kit realized that she’d need to be mindful of her neighbors in Westdale. Not that she planned to drag down property values single-handedly.
    “I hate to interrupt the society tea,” Officer Jamison said, poking his head into the kitchen. “But you ladies aren’t supposed to be here. You need to get going.” He pointed to Kit. “That includes you, Officer Gold.”
    Kit began to clear the table. “Yes, sir.”
    “Thanks for the tape, by the way,” he said. “It’s my first real crime scene.”
    “You don’t say,” Kit replied, feigning surprise.
    “Ms. Chilton, can I help you out?” he offered.
    Phyllis stood in an effort to demonstrate her electric. “No, thank you. You just go about your business here so our neighbor can move back in. It’ll be a nice change, having a neighbor we don’t need to pretend we don’t see.”
    “Give it time, Phyllis,” Thora advised. “She’s only just arrived.”
     
    Kit walked up the long lane to Greyabbey, rolling a suitcase of her belongings behind her. She wouldn’t put it past her mother to have staged the entire incident in order to force Kit back into her controlling arms.
    A flash of white linen caught her attention. Huntley lingered outside with the dogs, presumably awaiting Kit’s arrival.
    “Is it true, Sassafras?” he asked.
    “All true,” she said. “I’m sure my mother is finding the whole thing mildly