Morning Glory Circle Read Online Free

and said, “thank you” before going around and getting in on the driver’s side. Lily and Scott watched the van pull away from the curb, taking Enid to what they all hoped would be a better place.
    “Where do you think Margie’s gone?” Lily asked Scott.
    “I haven’t got a clue,” he replied. “And as much as I don’t care where she is, I don’t want to lose track of her either. That woman’s a danger to herself and others.”
     
     
    Lily Crawford lived at the end of Morning Glory Avenue Extension, a narrow lane known locally as Possum Holler. It was little more than a dirt and gravel driveway that began where the prestigious avenue ended, at the top of Peony Street by the library. It wound around the hill past a few old farmhouses and the Rose Hill Cemetery before it ended at Lily’s farm, a narrow, rolling valley with a big pond in the middle.
    Crawford’s farm was where the majority of the town’s children (and many adults) went sled riding every winter, on a steep incline that began in front of the house and ended in a wide flat meadow below. When Simon Crawford was alive there were cows grazing in the meadow and hay and corn growing in the fields beyond. The Crawfords did not have children of their own, but they were generous to the town’s children with their time and attention. The same tractor tire inner tubes that carried shrieking kids down the snow-covered hill in the winter floated them atop Frog Pond in the heat of summer. Scott had been one of those kids.
    As Scott pulled into Lily’s driveway, Betty Lou the basset hound came charging out through the dog door from the back porch, baying at the top of her lungs. Behind Betty Lou, who was furiously waddling toward the truck, was a scrawny little white, gold and brown striped kitten, mewing in a hoarse voice, trying to keep up.
    “Who’s that with Betty Lou?” Scott asked Lily.
    “That’s her new kitten,” Lily said as she got out of the SUV, lugging Enid’s linens in a plastic laundry basket.
    Scott kept a box of animal crackers in the glove compartment just for Betty Lou, and when he offered her one she quickly snuffled it up, tail wagging. The little kitten rubbed itself against the dog’s haunches and purred loudly between hoarse mews. When Scott reached down to pick up the kitten it arched its little back, hissed at him, and hopped sideways, the purr turning into a deep growl. Scott quickly pulled his hand back as Lily laughed.
    “I should have warned you,” Lily said. “It’s a feral kitten. I can’t touch it either.”
    “Is it one of Hannah’s?” Scott asked, taking the heavy laundry basket from Lily.
    “No, Hannah may be sneaky, but she wouldn’t just drop one off. There are lots of feral cats out here. They keep the rabbits out of my garden and the mice out of the barn, so I don’t really mind them. Hannah leaves humane traps and fixes the ones she catches, but they breed faster than she can keep up. This one just appeared one day, curled up in Betty Lou’s bed with her on the back porch. It must have got separated from its mama somehow, and imprinted on my girl here. I feed it, but it won’t come near me.”
    “I can’t believe Betty puts up with it. I thought she hated cats.”
    “She loves this one,” Lily shrugged. “It follows her everywhere.”
    Lily led Scott in through the back door to her kitchen, which was cozy and warm, and smelled like vanilla, cinnamon, and coffee. Betty Lou turned in a circle a couple times before laying down in her basket by the stove. The kitten hopped in and curled up against her, kneading the dog’s fur and purring loudly, eyes closed in ecstasy.
    Scott sat the laundry basket on the floor and shrugged off his coat.
    “Let me fix you some breakfast,” Lily said, “and we’ll get caught up.”
    Lily had been peripherally involved in a recent murder investigation in Rose Hill. After Theo Eldridge, the great grandson of the founder of nearby Eldridge College, was found