Saint Patrick's Day - The Gordonston Ladies Dog Walking Club Part III: A Dark Comedy Cozy Mystery With A Twist Read Online Free Page B

his house, really dear, you were in the wrong. Though owned by the city, they are responsible for its maintenance... How would you feel if they parked in front of our house, despite having space in their driveway? Wouldn’t you be a little annoyed about it? I just don’t know why you didn’t just park in our driveway.”
    “Your car was blocking it. You should have pulled in more. Now, are you going to get up out of that chair? Stop ‘playing’ at being a detective and do something about it?”
    Sabrina was now standing directly in front of her husband with her arms folded, the bags of groceries now at her feet. Sam Taylor noticed that she was tapping her right foot. Sabrina tapping her right foot only meant one thing--she was annoyed and wouldn’t rest until Sam dealt with that annoyance immediately. This was all he needed. Didn’t she know he was busy? Of course she did, but she didn’t care. Playing detective? No. He wasn’t playing anything. He was researching. Researching Elliott Miller and he was getting closer to finding something.
    “Go next door and tell them to stop putting notes on my car,” shouted Sabrina. She thrust the note into her husband’s hand.
    TO WHOMEVER IT CONCERNS,
    PLEASE STOP PARKING ON OUR GRASS!!! IT IS VERY DISRESPECTFUL. YOU HAVE A BIG ENOUGH DRIVEWAY AND YOU CAN PARK THERE OR ON YOUR OWN GRASS. THE OLD MAN WHO LIVED THERE BEFORE YOU, MAY HE REST IN PEACE, NEVER DID SUCH A RUDE AND INCONSIDERATE THING. IT IS SIMPLY DISGUSTING AND RUDE!!! WE HAVE LIVED HERE LONGER THAN YOU AND WE DESERVE RESPECT. NEVER, EVER DO IT AGAIN!!!!
    THANK YOU,
    YOUR VERY ANNOYED NEIGHBORS!!!!
    Sam shook his head and stood up. This was wasting valuable time, and it was the last thing he needed to be dealing with right now
    “It’s shouting, that’s what it is. When you write in big bold letters like that and use exclamation points, you’re shouting. He was shouting at me. They were shouting at me. Now go around there and tell them who you are and tell them it isn’t their grass.”
    “It isn’t ours, dear.”
    “It isn’t theirs either.” Sabrina’s foot began to tap faster.
    “The point is, Sam, they think that they can bully us. Just because they have lived here longer than us. And according to Betty Jenkins, they only moved in themselves a couple of months before we did. Well, I won’t let them bully or intimidate me. I noticed a scratch on my car yesterday that wasn’t there the day before. That is out-and-out vandalism. As a policeman, you know that. Bullies and vandals, that’s all they are.”
    Sam rolled his eyes and before putting on his shoes, glanced at his desk. “Don’t touch anything,” he said to his wife. “I will be back in a minute. And who the heck is Betty Jenkins?”
    Sam had no problems with his neighbors. He and Sabrina had only been living in the neighborhood a few months and he had hardly spoken to them. He certainly didn’t hate them. The last thing he wanted was any confrontation, but Sabrina, well Sabrina was like that. She was always looking for an argument or a fight. As he approached the front door of his neighbor’s home, he inspected his wife’s car. He noticed a faint and tiny scratch, probably caused by another car door touching hers in a parking lot. He then peered along the street. Quiet and peaceful. Gordonston was not the same place it had been three years ago. Once the press had left and the news had become old, things had gotten back to normal--peaceful, secluded and most importantly for Sam, quiet. The peace and quiet Sam Taylor needed to investigate Elliott Miller…and his connection…. well his connection to most of the strange things that seemed to have happened in Gordonston.
    “Who is it?” said the voice behind the door, which Sam felt was a little rude. Why not just open the door and see who it was? It wasn’t as though they were living in some crime-ridden, inner-city ghetto.
    “Your neighbor. Sam Taylor,” replied Sam, who quickly