Deadly Decision Read Online Free Page B

cupboards filled the space from counter to ceiling, just like at my grandmother’s house. It had been my job to lift down the holiday dishes that were kept on the top shelves. There was a worn spot on the corner of Trina’s cast iron sink. I wondered if past generations had kept a dish cloth draped there.
    Walking into the room, I smothered a yawn and leaned over and kissed Trina’s cheek. “You look like you didn’t get much sleep.”
    “About as much as you,” she replied. “Want some breakfast?”
    “Do I smell sausage?”
    “Made here locally; you’ll love it.” She turned to the stove. “I’ve been keeping it warm for you. I’ll scramble you some eggs.”
    “What can I do?”
    “Put bread in the toaster. Ted and I already ate, so just make enough for you.”
    I looked around for the toaster, found it on the built-in hutch on the far right wall, and searched for the bread.
    “What time do you think the police will show up?” I asked.
    “I don’t know. Last night the officer said in the morning, so I guess it could be any time.”
    “They aren’t going to take this seriously.”
    She glanced my way, spatula coated with egg in her hand. “Why not?”
    “Officer Studler aggravated me, but he made a point. Maybe I did, subconsciously, see one of the posters and my mind created the whole thing.”
    “What about the fresh scratches on the bolt?”
    “Anything could have scraped that bolt. What’s Ted up to this morning?”
    Trina narrowed her eyes. “Trying to change the subject?”
    “Yes.”
    Still clutching the spatula, Trina placed her hands on her hips. “You always do that when you don’t want to talk about something, but we need to talk about this.”
    The toaster popped and I reached for the newly browned bread. A huff came from the direction of my daughter as she turned and dished sausage and eggs onto a plate. She poured two cups of coffee and sat at the table across from me. I gave thanks for my food.
    “The sausage is good,” I mumbled. “Where’s Ted? This time I really want to know.”
    “He’s painting. He has a canvas about done, and figured it was something quiet he could do while you slept.”
    “Considerate of him.”
    Trina carried my empty plate to the sink. I sipped a second cup of coffee.
    “You should be the one to tell Mrs. Roberts,” Trina said as she grabbed the broom and started sweeping the back of the kitchen.
    My cup clattered to the table. “Why me? I don’t even know her.”
    “You saw Jimmy’s ghost.”
    “Are you afraid of her?”
    “Afraid of her?” Trina stared at me. “Whatever gave you that idea?” Insufficient light reached the back of the narrow kitchen, but I had no trouble seeing Trina’s raised eyebrows.
    “Just wondered.”
    She leaned against the built-in cupboard, a Mona-Lisa smile curving her lips. “As soon as we met, there was a connection between us. It’s strange. I feel like I’ve known her forever.”
    “So why doesn’t Mrs. Roberts live here?” My suspicions of this woman’s ulterior motives grew with each mention of her name.
    “She has her own little house. Her husband built it for her and then he died a few years later. This house has belonged to her family, her husband’s family actually, since it was built in 1800. Isn’t that amazing, one family owning a house all that time? Her husband’s Uncle Carl lived here until he died a couple months ago. Jimmy is the last of the family.”
    “What do you know about this woman?”
    “She’s a sweet and wonderful lady. You’ll like her, Dad.”
    “So this sweet and wonderful lady is allowing you to live here in exchange for doing the repairs. And when you’re done, you can try your hand at a bed and breakfast?” I hoped she would hear how ludicrous that sounded.
    And yet, something had drawn me here.
    “And she’s buying all the stuff. We just need to tell her what we need.”
    Stuff. She’s buying stuff. The two of them don’t even know what stuff they