Pumpkin Roll Read Online Free Page A

doorway and had caught stray leaves. A portion of rain gutter had broken away from the eaves on the east side and hung across the front window; the first heavy snow of the upcoming winter would likely rip it off completely.
     
    The house was painted a medium-gray, but water stains had given it a mottled look. Jared and Heather’s house, along with most of the houses on the street, had a hip-high chain-link fence. Mrs. Wapple’s front yard was fence-free, though a six-foot-tall wooden fence with an additional foot and a half of latticework on top jutted out from the sides of the house and wrapped around the back half of the property, completely hiding the backyard from view. Sadie wondered what required that much privacy. She still stuck by what she’d told the boys last night, though—that Mrs. Wapple was just a silly old lady. She was intriguing, however, Sadie had to admit that.
     
    The front gate of Jared’s house creaked when she opened it, and she made a note to add “Oil the gate hinges” to Pete’s list of household projects. All the houses along the street had an alley running behind them that led to single-car garages, or sometimes a carport. With garages in the back, the houses were even closer together. There was no street parking allowed overnight, which kept the street uncluttered.
     
    Heather had decorated the front door with a ghost made of several layers of gauzy fabric. It had silent black eyes and an O-shaped mouth. As Sadie headed up the walkway, she watched it swing gently in the wind and had an idea about how to satisfy her curiosity about the witch across the street. That her plan involved baking—her favorite autumn pastime—was merely all the more reason to follow through.
     

Chapter 3
     

     
     
     
    I’m just trying to understand your motives,” Pete said a few hours later as he snitched a ginger cookie off the cooling rack. Sadie had spent the morning cleaning up breakfast, getting the two younger boys bathed and dressed, getting herself ready, e-mailing Shawn the new case info, and double-checking that she had everything she needed for dinner. She’d forgotten how much work it took to run a house and take care of little kids at the same time. And she’d only had one boy, not three; they were a force of nature all their own. The boys were currently in the backyard playing and Sadie was busy transferring the last pan of cookies to the cooling rack and pretending not to notice the cookie theft taking place right under her nose—Pete’s second.
     
    “Do I need to give you Pete’s Advice Number Three?” He took a bite of his cookie as though issuing her a challenge.
     
    “Is that the one about not breaking the law or the one about not misleading you?” Sadie asked, clearing the pan. Pete’s bits of “advice” were more like lectures, and they’d been repeated so frequently since Sadie started her business that she’d numbered them in order to make it easier for Pete to dispense his wisdom. It had become a bit of a joke between them now, or at least half a joke.
     
    Pete leaned back in his chair and crossed his ankles. It was eleven o’clock in the morning and Pete was still wearing sweatpants. Sweatpants! Babysitting brought out a whole new side of Pete, or maybe just being out of Garrison was the secret ingredient. Either way, Sadie liked it . . . a lot. Not that she didn’t always enjoy Pete’s company, but it was fun to see Pete so laid-back. He kept talking. “Pete’s Advice Number One is about lying to me—”
     
    “Misleading,” Sadie corrected, pointing her spatula at him. “I never lied to you.”
     
    “Okay, then,” Pete said in a tone far too diplomatic to truly be agreeing with her. “Advice One is about misleading me. Advice Two is about breaking the law. Advice Three is about sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, isn’t needed, or will create more problems than relief.” He popped the last of his cookie into his mouth.
     
    Sadie