Mercy & Mayhem: A Mercy Mares Cozy Mystery Read Online Free
Author: Ava Mallory
same refrain about how residents constantly died around here and Betty sat crying, while no one consoled her.
What kind of place was this? I needed to pull myself together before anything else went wrong.
"Shouldn't there be some kind of incident report or something?" I urged Kathy.
She stared at me stone faced and reached into her bag to pull out a form.
"You carry them in your purse?" I asked.
"We run out of supplies all the time. Fill it out. Don't leave anything out." She warned me.
"Why would I do that?" I was offended.
The only one who seemed to have any sympathy for my situation was the maintenance man who still floated around the unit, repairing all that needed to be repaired. He nodded in my direction as he passed by and even stopped to distract Nubbin and get him engaged in conversation. I made a mental note to get that maintenance man's name before the day was over, so I could thank him.
"You should probably call your employer. I'm sure they are going to want to hear your side of the story." Kathy said.
What was she implying? Why would I have a side? I had the truth. I walked in to find the form. Next thing I know, the door opens and I heard a loud crash before Rowdy hit the floor. What else was there to tell?
Finally, the Sheriff walked onto the unit. He too was in no real hurry. Things really did move slower in some parts of the world.
Nubbin stopped him as he neared the office. They chit chatted for a moment while I got my second wind and prepared to burst this sudden cloud of suspicion right here and now.
The Sheriff knocked on the office door. Kathy's hands shook as she opened it. He stepped in, his hands on his hips and asked, "Is that Rowdy?"
Really? What was it with these people?
Kathy nodded and pointed to me. His eyebrows quirked up. She kept her finger pointed at me. The firefighters stared at me. Their eyes were like daggers.
"What's wrong? Why is everyone looking at me?" I had to ask.
"You care to tell me what's going on here, Miss?" The Sheriff moved close enough to me, I could smell what kind of coffee he drank this morning.
Instinctively, I backed away, bumping right into the only other chair in the room, a tattered and broken chair from the resident's dining room, which proceeded to collapse to the ground, taking me and my state of shock with it.
I'd swear, no one wanted to help me up for a second. I could see them contemplating letting me sit there in a heap of trouble for something I had nothing - I mean, nothing - to do with. I just got here. I don't even know these people.
After a moment of me flailing on the ground, the Sheriff offered his hand and hoisted me up in one fell-swoop.
"Thank you," I muttered as I yanked my smock down over my exposed belly button and straightened out my pant legs.
"Okay, shall we try again?" The Sheriff didn't miss a beat.
As I struggled to clean up the mess I'd made with the broken chair, everyone in the room stood silently, while poor Mr. Knott remained on the floor in the exact same position I'd left him in after doing chest compressions.
I was no expert, but I'd seen enough crime dramas to know that someone - I don't know who - should have been securing the scene and, I'm pretty sure, we weren't supposed to be conducting interrogations while standing over the newly departed.
I pointed to Mr. Knott, asking, "Aren't you supposed to call someone or clear the scene or something, Sheriff?"
The look he gave me, told me loud and clear that he wasn't a man who took kindly to being told what to do and I was in trouble.
He stared at me coldly, then, asked everyone to leave the room and not touch anything. I readily obliged, but as luck would have it, the kind Sheriff wasn't about to let me exit stage left.
"Not you." He used his arm as a barricade.
"Okay." I sat down in Kathy's chair, my heart racing a mile a minute. I knew I wasn't
What kind of place was this? I needed to pull myself together before anything else went wrong.
"Shouldn't there be some kind of incident report or something?" I urged Kathy.
She stared at me stone faced and reached into her bag to pull out a form.
"You carry them in your purse?" I asked.
"We run out of supplies all the time. Fill it out. Don't leave anything out." She warned me.
"Why would I do that?" I was offended.
The only one who seemed to have any sympathy for my situation was the maintenance man who still floated around the unit, repairing all that needed to be repaired. He nodded in my direction as he passed by and even stopped to distract Nubbin and get him engaged in conversation. I made a mental note to get that maintenance man's name before the day was over, so I could thank him.
"You should probably call your employer. I'm sure they are going to want to hear your side of the story." Kathy said.
What was she implying? Why would I have a side? I had the truth. I walked in to find the form. Next thing I know, the door opens and I heard a loud crash before Rowdy hit the floor. What else was there to tell?
Finally, the Sheriff walked onto the unit. He too was in no real hurry. Things really did move slower in some parts of the world.
Nubbin stopped him as he neared the office. They chit chatted for a moment while I got my second wind and prepared to burst this sudden cloud of suspicion right here and now.
The Sheriff knocked on the office door. Kathy's hands shook as she opened it. He stepped in, his hands on his hips and asked, "Is that Rowdy?"
Really? What was it with these people?
Kathy nodded and pointed to me. His eyebrows quirked up. She kept her finger pointed at me. The firefighters stared at me. Their eyes were like daggers.
"What's wrong? Why is everyone looking at me?" I had to ask.
"You care to tell me what's going on here, Miss?" The Sheriff moved close enough to me, I could smell what kind of coffee he drank this morning.
Instinctively, I backed away, bumping right into the only other chair in the room, a tattered and broken chair from the resident's dining room, which proceeded to collapse to the ground, taking me and my state of shock with it.
I'd swear, no one wanted to help me up for a second. I could see them contemplating letting me sit there in a heap of trouble for something I had nothing - I mean, nothing - to do with. I just got here. I don't even know these people.
After a moment of me flailing on the ground, the Sheriff offered his hand and hoisted me up in one fell-swoop.
"Thank you," I muttered as I yanked my smock down over my exposed belly button and straightened out my pant legs.
"Okay, shall we try again?" The Sheriff didn't miss a beat.
As I struggled to clean up the mess I'd made with the broken chair, everyone in the room stood silently, while poor Mr. Knott remained on the floor in the exact same position I'd left him in after doing chest compressions.
I was no expert, but I'd seen enough crime dramas to know that someone - I don't know who - should have been securing the scene and, I'm pretty sure, we weren't supposed to be conducting interrogations while standing over the newly departed.
I pointed to Mr. Knott, asking, "Aren't you supposed to call someone or clear the scene or something, Sheriff?"
The look he gave me, told me loud and clear that he wasn't a man who took kindly to being told what to do and I was in trouble.
He stared at me coldly, then, asked everyone to leave the room and not touch anything. I readily obliged, but as luck would have it, the kind Sheriff wasn't about to let me exit stage left.
"Not you." He used his arm as a barricade.
"Okay." I sat down in Kathy's chair, my heart racing a mile a minute. I knew I wasn't
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