Murder in Miniature Read Online Free

There were rumors that his residence was in a trailer park farther south, toward San Jose. Maybe Just Eddie wanted to be closer to that fun city.
    It had occurred to me that Jason was responsible for Linda’s absence. I wouldn’t dare call the police station and inquire, however (though my nephew, Beverly’s son, was one of its finest officers), lest Linda be upset at what could look like sheer nosiness.
    One of my own favorite rooms sold quickly. I’d taken a half-gallon tub from Sadie’s, our popular local ice cream store, and formed an opening, cutting into about one-third of the curved surface. Inside, I had built a miniature soda fountain. Secretly, I’d hoped my granddaughter, Madison, who was visiting me for a month, would want it. But Maddie, like both her parents, was more into sports than dollhouses or anything remotely feminine. Served me right, I decided, wishing so hard for a little girl for my son and his wife. I’d neglected to ask for one who’d like pink. I had my first clue to her preferences when a beaded bracelet I’d made for her ended up wrapped around her soccer trophy. I blamed it all on the unisex name her Los Angeles–based parents gave her.
    “Why name a child ‘Madison’?” I’d asked my son, Richard. Subtly, I thought. “With parents named Richard and Mary Lou.”
    He gave me a trademark wink, learned at his father’s knee. “That’s why,” he said.
    And here was Maddie now, running toward me, her auburn curls tucked into a backward baseball cap. My sister-in-law, Beverly, who was entertaining Maddie (or vice versa) while I was working the fair, was several feet behind.
    “Hey, Grandma! We came to see all your pretty stuff,” Maddie said, barely containing a giggle.
    “Nice try. I know how you feel about ‘pretty.’ If you think that’s going to get you pancakes and strawberry syrup in the morning, you’re right. I mean…mistaken.” My turn to giggle as I held her close.
    Beverly picked up a room box with a theme I knew she liked—a hat shop. “I love this, Gerry. You’re the best at fabric,” she said. I hoped Beverly wouldn’t try to buy the piece, since I’d made her an even more elaborate shop for her upcoming birthday. Beverly swung her arm, looking toned in a sleeveless dress, toward the unstaffed table next to me. “Where’s Linda?” she asked.
    “I wish I knew. Chuck was here and I suppose she’s off dealing with him, but that was”—I checked my watch. A twinge of annoyance mixed with concern rippled through my body—“almost two hours ago.”
    One of the tiny lamps in my backyard barbecue scene flickered, and at the same time, I got a bright idea. “Bev, can you do me a favor? Do you think you could ask Skip to drive over to Linda’s house and see if she’s there?”
    “You’re kidding, right?”
    I clicked my tongue. “No. I’m a little worried. I can’t imagine what it would take for her to leave her station this long.”
    Beverly, one hand on her hip, ran her fingers through her short, curly hair, so much like her brother, Ken’s, and now Maddie’s. “You want my son, Lincoln Point PD’s up-and-coming officer, to make a house call on Linda? What makes you think she’s even there?”
    “Couldn’t he just zip by? What if something’s happened to her?”
    I was happy that Maddie didn’t hear this. She’d wandered to the Children’s Corner, where the town postmaster, Brian Cooney, was setting up for the next puppet show. He and Just Eddie were engaged in some battle over a shoddy repair job on the steps to the stage. The rumor was that the two of them had an ongoing feud that started when Brian wouldn’t assign a post-office box to Just Eddie unless he gave a street address or phone number for the record. Unwilling to give in, Just Eddie had to drive ten miles to Middleboro, the next town, where apparently the rules were different, to get his mail. From what I could see, it appeared my handy-girl granddaughter was tacking the