Read Read and Buried for Free Online Page A

cupboards. It still held the aroma of a woman’s touch although Charlaine
     Creely had died long before Lizzie moved back to town.
    “I had a good sleep in a comfortable bed, thank you. And the cats were pleased, also.
     In fact, they’ve snuggled back in.”
    “That’s good. Now, I baked us some fresh scones,” he said as he got up and went to
     the oven to remove the baking.
    “Smells delicious. Now I’ll regret not having gotten up earlier for a run. But that’s
     not going to stop me from eating one.” She inhaled deeply as he placed a plate of
     scones on the table in front of her.
    He chuckled. “I’m glad you didn’t get up early. You needed a good rest after yesterday’s
     turmoil. The police called earlier to say it’s okay to go into your house, so I put
     in a call to Ford Guiger to come and replace the window. He should be here in a couple
     of hours. As will Noreen, my housecleaner. She’ll tidy it right up.”
    “Thank you, Nathaniel. Oh boy, I still can’t believe what happened yesterday. Is there
     a story about it in the paper?”
    “Yes, but not a very long one.” Nathaniel opened the paper to page four. “Birmingham
     folks aren’t too concerned about an author dying, it seems. But it will be big news
     when the
Ashton Corners Colonist
comes out on Thursday, I’ll bet.”
    Lizzie read the story over quickly. “Just the facts. That’s good. And no mention of
     it being my house nor the address. Also good. I’d hate to have gawkers passing by,
     or worse yet, reporters.”
    “What are your plans for today?”
    “I have to go to school for a couple of meetings I’ve scheduled with some children
     and their parents. Do you mind if the cats stay here until I get back?”
    “No, that’s quite all right by me. I have an appointment early afternoon but I’ll
     be here all morning so I’m happy to supervise the goings-on at your place, too.”
    “That would be great. I appreciate it. I’d better get going, though, or I’ll be late
     for my first appointment.” She snatched another scone to have as a snack.
    * * *
    N othing stays a secret long in a town the size of Ashton Corners, Lizzie thought as
     she ventured from the school staff room to the vice principal’s office. She’d already
     been inundated with questions from several teachers wanting details of the shooting
     and she’d been at school for only twenty minutes.
    She gave them very little information, mainly because she didn’t have any. She let
     her mind play with suggestions of what her next move should be while she set up for
     her first appointment of the day. As a reading specialist with the Ashton Corners
     School District, she was charged with assessing children who appeared to be reading
     below their expected level, referred either by their teacher or by parents. Part of
     her job also involved making recommendations to teachers as to programs and techniques,
     and designing staff training sessions.
    A third-grade boy, who, from what she could see, would be happier out on the playground
     than sitting in a classroom, appeared for his second appointment in as many weeks,
     along with his mama. Lizzie went over the test results with Mrs. Cline, trying to
     emphasize her son Tory’s strong points, even though reading wasn’t one of them. Mrs.
     Cline had her own ideas about how well her son should be doing, and Lizzie had to
     remind herself that tact was the best way to deal with such single-mindedness. She
     wondered if Mr. Cline might be more inclined, so to speak—she smiled at the thought—to
     view his son with some sense and sensibility. She kept her smile in place as she saw
     them out the door and then went to the staff room.
    Lizzie realized she kept glancing at her watch, about three times in the past fifteen
     minutes, and hoped it hadn’t been obvious to the two fifth-grade teachers seated across
     from her. They’d been meeting through the lunch hour, going over Lizzie’s suggestion