Read Nobody's Sorry You're Dead: A Hadley Pell Cozy Mystery for Free Online Page B

burden. What good was having a friend, if you couldn’t lend her a hand in a pinch?
    Hadley didn’t know where to start.
    Maybe, if given a chance, she could put two and two together and come up with four – instead of six-and-a-half, help get Sandy out of his legal muddle, and help Maggie feel better to boot. Hadley just needed the chance to do something. Anything to help out. And she heard the clock ticking.
    Loudly.
    Time was running out.
    If somebody didn’t soon figure a way out of this tangle, Sandy would be ruined financially. His reputation would be in tatters. His future would be destroyed. These thoughts kept scurrying in circles in her skull like riders on a solar-powered merry-go-round stuck at the North Pole during those unending days of the midnight sun.
    No opportunity had presented itself yet, though.
    Zilch. Zero. Nada.
    There was nothing to do but wait and watch and listen – and hope some clue would fall at her feet like manna from the sky. It was a lot to wish for, Hadley knew.
    In the meantime, she’d be satisfied with life’s simple pleasures.
    It was time to go inside and fix Maury and herself a tall, cold glass of tangy orangeade. Some of that orange flavored deliciousness would sure hit the spot.
    Hadley was pleasantly surprised when she opened her back door. The house looked remarkably like she had left it. Perhaps Onus had decided to cut Hadley some slack and had wandered off under the bed to hunt dust bunnies. Those little pests miraculously managed to sprout in the darkness when nobody was looking. Maybe, he could manage to get rid of them. She never could.
    She went to the fridge and removed some ice cubes from the freezer. She placed them into two tall glasses. She retrieved the jar of orange powder from the counter and added two heaping tablespoons to the ice-filled glasses. Now, a few squirts of seltzer water, a quick stir, and they were ready.
    Hadley placed the glasses down on the table and went to the cupboard and retrieved a pack of cookies. Orange and chocolate.
    Sounded good to Hadley.
    Unless, it wasn’t.
    But you never knew until you tried it!
    She rounded up Maury, who had wandered off into the den, and together they sat down with cookies and a cold drink. Nothing like a party with orangeade and cookies to cap off a really good day.

Chapter Four
    T he old man had not been home. Wonderful. It had taken only a few minutes to put the plan into place. Everything looked good. And it had been surprisingly easy – once you wrapped your head around the fact that you were actually going to do it.
    Now, the only thing to do was sit back and wait. Keep your head on straight. Act totally normal. Keep your mouth shut, and no one would ever suspect. That was the beauty of it all.
    And it was a good plan.
    Foolproof, really.
    Getting into the car, there was the moment when a tinge of guilt scratched at the conscious mind. It had to happen, if you had any conscience at all.
    But it was only a minor tinge. And it was not for the old man or for the way he was going to die. That twinge of remorse would never be wasted on an old troublemaker who had ruined so many lives for so long.
    No, sir.
    The ounce of regret was because he should have been stopped long ago, and it took all this time to summon the amount of courage needed to get the job done.
    A stitch in time saves nine.
    The early bird gets the worm.
    Don’t wait till tomorrow to cook the old goose.
    Throw him into the fire, NOW!
    Watch him burn.
    What a wicked little rhyme.
    The driver cranked the engine and backed out of the driveway of Eustian Singlepenny’s house.

Chapter Five
    “ H adley Jane Pell ,” Maury said, “have you lost your ever-lovin’ mind?”
    Hadley had phoned her sister to tell her the good news.
    “You just wait till Bill gets home. I’m going to give him a piece of my mind. And when I’m finished with that I’m going to give him a good swift kick in the seat of his pants! I can’t believe he suggested that