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manicure. I turned on her computer. Of course, it was password protected. I chewed the inside of my lip. If I couldn’t get into her computer, then I definitely needed the WiFi password so I could set up my laptop in my cottage.
    I shuffled through the pile of papers on her desk. Nothing but resident registrations and background checks. I stopped at Harry Weasley’s. It said he had taught fifth grade social studies at Cooper Elementary. The very same school I once taught at. I would have to check on that.
    “Find what you were looking for?” Alice stood in the doorway, arms crossed. “If you’re going to snoop, you should have at least closed the door.”
    “I wasn’t snooping. I was hoping to use your computer to find the number for a temp agency. Since that is out of the question, I need the WiFi password.” I stood, sliding Harry’s form back into the stack of papers.
    “You still haven’t read the papers I gave you. All the information you need is in there.” Alice shoved me away from her desk. She scribbled something on a post-it note. “The password.” She then typed her password into her computer and turned the screen to face me. “At your service.”
    “I’ve read most of the papers, but you keep adding to my work load. I’m exhausted when I get off work.” I found a number for a temporary service, wrote it on a post-it, and headed outside. I pulled out my cell phone and within three minutes had a promise for a general handyman to arrive at the retirement community by eight o’clock in the morning.
    I headed for the shed and grabbed my shears and a large wicker basket. I had to get some work done before Cheryl showed up or Alice complained. First on the list were the rose bushes.
    Several bushes later, my legs sported a few scratches, perspiration dotted my upper lip, and I couldn’t remember the last time I was happier. I sat on a nearby bench and guzzled from a water bottle. When I’d finished, I set the bottle on the edge of the bench and bent to retrieve my tools from where I’d set them.
    What? I plucked the top part of a set of dentures from the dirt. A little more digging revealed the bottom half. Maybelle’s teeth? If not, whose? And if they are hers, who did the ones in her mouth when she died belong to?
    Grandma and Officer Lawrence stood by the gazebo. He leaned forward and whispered something in her ear. My heart stopped when I thought he would kiss her. I shuddered, relieved when he smiled and turned away. He headed down the path toward me.
    “Here.” I held the teeth by my fingertips. “I found these. They might be Maybelle’s.”
    His brows drew together. “Her’s were in her mouth.”
    “Were they?” I wiggled my eyebrows. “What if those weren’t hers?”
    “Why wouldn’t they be? That would be stranger than…well, anything I’ve ever seen.”
    “I know I have an over-active imagination,” I said, “but what if…Maybelle wasn’t the intended victim? Huh? What if those teeth belong to someone else and she thought they were hers. They seemed large for her mouth.”
    He held out a baggie he’d pulled from his pocket. “A simple DNA test will show us.” After I dropped the teeth in, he shoved the bag into his pocket. “You’re a strange one, Shelby Hart.” He marched down the path and out the gate.
    I cupped my hands around my mouth. “You’re welcome!”
    He lifted a hand without looking back.
    “Isn’t he devine?” Grandma hugged my arm. “I think I’m going to marry him.”
    “Did he ask?” I looked at her in alarm.
    “No, but he will. I’ll make sure of it. Oh, look, there’s Cheryl. Yoohoo!” She jumped up and down waving her arms.
    “Stop before you break something.” I put a hand on her arm to restrain her.
    “Grandma!” Cheryl, almost six feet tall, curvaceous in all the right places, brunette and beautiful, rushed toward us pulling a rolling suitcase. “I’m yours for one whole week.”
    “Good.” Grandma hugged her. “You can