Hometown Detective. Jennifer Morey

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СКАЧАТЬ anniversary is this?” Kendra asked.

      “Forty-two.” Denny smiled, showing big boxy teeth that somehow matched his jean overalls over a white Henley. At first glance, he’d strike most as a local farmer, but he ran the town bakery with his wife. Kendra seldom met people married as long as them. Or as happy.

      “What’s your secret?”

      Denny chuckled. “Tolerance.”

      She laughed with him as she finished his transaction, aware of another person in line behind him. “It can’t be that simple.” No amount of tolerance would have saved her closest encounter with love. She also found that choice of word peculiar. Tolerance could be a negative thing.

      Denny sobered. “It’s about respect. If you both have respect for each other, there’s nothing you can’t weather in a marriage. If you can’t respect the person you’re with, then you shouldn’t be with them.”

      “That’s good advice.” People like him and his wife were a breath of fresh air. They never deviated from genuine honesty.

      “You’ll find it someday,” Denny said.

      She scoffed. “I’m doing just fine on my own. No hurry for that.”

      “Then you’ll get the real deal.” Denny took the bouquet. “Have a good night.”

      “Tell your wife Happy Anniversary for me.”

      “Will do.” He left the counter and the next patron approached.

      A short, skinny boy of maybe fifteen put a flowering plant and four Fourth of July ornaments onto the counter. Odd for a kid his age, not to mention the holiday was a couple of months away. She had ornaments for every holiday, all year round.

      “Nice choice.” She tried to place him but didn’t recognize him. “You from around here?”

      “My mom went to see a friend. I came in here to blow some time. We live across town.”

      Chesterville was big enough not to know everyone, but Kendra had gotten to know quite a few in the year she’d been here. She didn’t know this kid and didn’t believe he’d come into a Christmas shop because he liked the decor.

      “Well, thanks for coming in to blow time.” She smiled as she tallied up his purchases.

      After a while, the boy asked, “You’re that lady who called that famous detective agency, aren’t you?”

      Ah, there it was. The real reason. “Word travels all the way across town, huh?”

      “My mom comes this way a lot. She grew up on this side.”

      She wouldn’t get into that. The kid sounded like this side wasn’t the better side but he was pretty young. This side had the most history in Chesterville, and the town center, which had been maintained wonderfully.

      “I did go to Dark Alley Investigations.”

      “I see that man on TV a lot.”

      He meant Kadin Tandy. He and his agency frequently made the news. She waited for him to get to what he really wanted to know.

      “Do you think your sister was really murdered?”

      She could understand how the boy would take interest in a local hiring a private detective agency to look into her sister’s suicide. Murder in a small town didn’t go unnoticed. But this boy seemed more focused on the fame of DAI, a morbid hero worship. She’d better not encourage him.

      She handed him a bag and pushed the plant toward him. “Thanks for coming in today.”

      The boy took the bag and cradled the plant in one arm. “Do you think I could meet the detective?”

      “I don’t know who they’re going to send.” If they sent anyone. She hadn’t heard from them.

      Seeing a car drive up in front, she said to the boy, “Looks like your mother is all finished.”

      The boy looked back and then, with one last look at her, reluctantly headed toward the exit.

      With the last ring of the storefront door, Kendra clicked on her computer to close out the day. Elegant, upbeat modern classical music still played softly, and now that the sun had set, Christmas tree lights glittered beautifully. Matching bows and ribbons drew the eye. Accessories, bouquets and plants popped multiple colors from shopping counters. Customers could meander through the artful displays. This was her favorite time of day. Evening, all alone in her dream come true. If only her sister was alive to share this. Kendra had moved from Chicago after her death. She felt closer to her here.

      Closing down the computer, she left the counter to tidy up and lock the front door. She never tired of seeing the creativity that filled the ample space of her flower shop. Not a typical flower shop, hers specialized in Christmas. She did generate enough business in the off-season to stay profitable, though. Being located in a prime section of Main Street did help.

      Nothing in her shop disappointed. Color and texture flowed. Aroma charmed the senses. Music relaxed. A cleaning service kept everything looking fresh and new. She took great pains to maintain flawless presentation.

      At one side of the shop, attractive pendant lighting spotlighted small round tables in the coffee and pastry section, a corner wall of shelves filled with books and magazines covering topics ranging from home improvement to gardening added to the inviting coziness. She put books and magazines back in their place, and then headed for the display counters, righting a fallen stuffed bear and turning vases for the best angle. On the other side of the shop, slide-open refrigerators took up most of the wall. Nothing looked out of place in there.

      Her best friend in college called her tenacious. Kendra called it ambition. Drive. Maybe even survival.

      Winding her way through decorated Christmas trees, she went to the front door and inserted the key to turn the lock. Outside, streetlights lit the sidewalk. No cars drove by at nearly nine-thirty and no one walked the street. The pub at the corner across the street always had someone coming in or out. A man stood near the door, leaning on a lamppost, one black-booted foot crossed over the other. He seemed to be looking at her.

      She couldn’t see him clearly. Lean rather than noticeably muscular, he towered over others passing on the way to the pub. He had dark, wavy short hair and wore a black short-sleeved golf shirt with light blue jeans. With his face still directed toward her, she had the feeling he wasn’t bothered that she saw him.

      Apprehension crept over her. Most believed Kaelyn Johnston had committed suicide as the coroner had ruled. No one had questioned that until Kendra had called Dark Alley Investigations. While Kaelyn had died in a small, off-the-map town in Michigan, she had spent her adopted years in Chesterville, West Virginia.

      If Kaelyn had been murdered, her killer wouldn’t want anyone exposing him, least of all an infamous investigations agency. She always grew nervous when she spotted suspicious strangers. The one across the street didn’t approach, only stayed where he was, watching. Maybe she had nothing to worry about. And why would the killer take an interest in her now, after all this time she’d been here? Hiring DAI could provoke a killer, but DAI hadn’t taken the case yet.

      Leaving the СКАЧАТЬ