A Ghostly Affair: A cozy mystery series (Death by Chocolate Book 3) by Pat Amsden Page A
Authors: Pat Amsden
Ads: Link
said, peering over Heather’s shoulder.
“That’s probably not what’s on his birth certificate. Or maybe it is. Who’d want to stick their kid with a name like Two Feathers or Swims With Otters?” Heather asked. She’d pulled up a string of articles and information on him. Apparently organizing covered a wide array of areas and she seemed a whiz in all of them. Except baking. Cupcakes were clearly not her thing.
“Anyway judging by what I’ve pulled up he seems to have been away back east getting his degree at McGill – pre-med and cultural anthropology, whatever that is. Then sometime in September he starts showing up in protests of the Eagle Ridge development. Bet you that made Zak and his partners happy.”
“So what took him so long? And even if he shows up at the last minute they’ve already built the development. He can’t seriously think they’re going to tear everything down and go, oops, sorry, my bad. Here’s your land back and we’re going to go develop somewhere else.”
“Who knows,” Heather said, resignation in her voice. “Maybe he’s hoping the government will buy it back for his people. One of my friends bought a place where they suddenly decided there were ancient burial cairns on the land or something. It cost them a fortune. And that’s not even including the creep factor. Imagine waking up and realizing your house was over-top of an ancient burial site.” She shivered.
Jake Jones had suddenly developed a huge interest in his native culture Maxine thought. And she couldn’t help thinking it might be a good idea to find out why. That was why she was taking a few dozen of her best chocolate chip cookies and brookies out to hand out while they protested, along with a 50 cup coffee dispenser.
She had to give it to them. They weren’t fair weather protestors. She shivered pulling her hoodie and rain poncho closer before looking at Heath. She was glad he’d volunteered to come with her. Because faced with a large group of protestors, made up of Indian and other concerned environmentalists she had to admit she was feeling a little intimidated.
“It was a getting a little boring,” Heath said when she commented, giving a slight shrug.
Jake Jones looked at her with suspicion as they made their way over ground turned muddy under the protestor’s feet, fall weather turning short, sunny days to days of fog and rain. It was lightly drizzling down now and she couldn’t help thinking the protestors looked miserable. While most had rain gear they still looked wet and cold.
Except for Jake Jones. A little fog and rain was not going to slow him down. He looked at her red smart car with disdain. She couldn’t help thinking he remembered it from the other day when she’d been out with Tanya. Quite possibly he remembered them. And then she shivered. Now who was letting her imagination get the better of them? How on earth could he remember one car driving by in what was a high traffic area?
“Hi,” she said approaching him with Heath. “I’ve seen you out here before and I thought I’d bring some coffee and treats around.”
His eyebrows went up. “You’re a supporter, then?”
“I try not to take sides,” she said.
He frowned at her. “You run around delivering coffee and cookies to random people?” Disbelieve radiated from him.
She put on her most charming smile. “I’m a local caterer. I make it a point to donate coffee and cookies or chocolates to various events and people to promote my company.”
He grinned at her sardonically. “Do these people look like they hire caterers on a regular basis?”
“These people,” she said, “look cold and hungry. Besides I’ve learned never to judge who would or wouldn’t use a caterer. I’m wrong more often than I’m right.”
He grinned. “If this is an example of your usual judgment, I can see why.”
She flushed and turned away, cursing herself. In her teen years a sideways glance had caused her to blush but
“That’s probably not what’s on his birth certificate. Or maybe it is. Who’d want to stick their kid with a name like Two Feathers or Swims With Otters?” Heather asked. She’d pulled up a string of articles and information on him. Apparently organizing covered a wide array of areas and she seemed a whiz in all of them. Except baking. Cupcakes were clearly not her thing.
“Anyway judging by what I’ve pulled up he seems to have been away back east getting his degree at McGill – pre-med and cultural anthropology, whatever that is. Then sometime in September he starts showing up in protests of the Eagle Ridge development. Bet you that made Zak and his partners happy.”
“So what took him so long? And even if he shows up at the last minute they’ve already built the development. He can’t seriously think they’re going to tear everything down and go, oops, sorry, my bad. Here’s your land back and we’re going to go develop somewhere else.”
“Who knows,” Heather said, resignation in her voice. “Maybe he’s hoping the government will buy it back for his people. One of my friends bought a place where they suddenly decided there were ancient burial cairns on the land or something. It cost them a fortune. And that’s not even including the creep factor. Imagine waking up and realizing your house was over-top of an ancient burial site.” She shivered.
Jake Jones had suddenly developed a huge interest in his native culture Maxine thought. And she couldn’t help thinking it might be a good idea to find out why. That was why she was taking a few dozen of her best chocolate chip cookies and brookies out to hand out while they protested, along with a 50 cup coffee dispenser.
She had to give it to them. They weren’t fair weather protestors. She shivered pulling her hoodie and rain poncho closer before looking at Heath. She was glad he’d volunteered to come with her. Because faced with a large group of protestors, made up of Indian and other concerned environmentalists she had to admit she was feeling a little intimidated.
“It was a getting a little boring,” Heath said when she commented, giving a slight shrug.
Jake Jones looked at her with suspicion as they made their way over ground turned muddy under the protestor’s feet, fall weather turning short, sunny days to days of fog and rain. It was lightly drizzling down now and she couldn’t help thinking the protestors looked miserable. While most had rain gear they still looked wet and cold.
Except for Jake Jones. A little fog and rain was not going to slow him down. He looked at her red smart car with disdain. She couldn’t help thinking he remembered it from the other day when she’d been out with Tanya. Quite possibly he remembered them. And then she shivered. Now who was letting her imagination get the better of them? How on earth could he remember one car driving by in what was a high traffic area?
“Hi,” she said approaching him with Heath. “I’ve seen you out here before and I thought I’d bring some coffee and treats around.”
His eyebrows went up. “You’re a supporter, then?”
“I try not to take sides,” she said.
He frowned at her. “You run around delivering coffee and cookies to random people?” Disbelieve radiated from him.
She put on her most charming smile. “I’m a local caterer. I make it a point to donate coffee and cookies or chocolates to various events and people to promote my company.”
He grinned at her sardonically. “Do these people look like they hire caterers on a regular basis?”
“These people,” she said, “look cold and hungry. Besides I’ve learned never to judge who would or wouldn’t use a caterer. I’m wrong more often than I’m right.”
He grinned. “If this is an example of your usual judgment, I can see why.”
She flushed and turned away, cursing herself. In her teen years a sideways glance had caused her to blush but
Similar Books
