A Line To Murder (A Puget Sound Mystery)

A Line To Murder (A Puget Sound Mystery) by Karla Stover

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Authors: Karla Stover
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and good, but I really wanted the vicar at least considered. I scowled and stood. “I think the vicar did it.”
    “If he did, we’ll find him.”
    Hump. That’s short and to the point. I felt Detective Wade watch me as I left and when I was back in the hall I realized static had made my skirt cup my butt in an unflattering way. Crap.
     
    * * *
     
    Over the next few days I went to work, walked, read and painted. One particularly warm day, I took Jose to the park. I called Mrs. Cruise to see about doing some of Isca’s volunteer work and the receptionist said she’d just left to go to a business convention but she’d have her call when she returned.
    Puyallup Fair officials sent me a card saying they could use me at a hamburger stand and I’d be advised when orientation would take place.
    Finally, at loose ends, I called Andy. “Andy, this is Mercedes. How are you?”
    “I’m okay. How are you?”
    “Lonely. I feel like the air has been punched out of my world.” I didn’t think I sounded accusatory, but maybe I did.
    “I’m sorry. I should have called, but everything’s so messed up.” The words seemed automatic, as if his thoughts were elsewhere.
    “Oh, I didn’t mean anything personal. I mean, well, I know you have things on your mind.” I paused. “Anyway, the reason I called is to see if I could borrow Dominic on Saturday.”
    “What for?”
    “I’d like to take him to the outdoor Amphitheater, to see the passion play.”
    “What Amphitheater?”
    “The one on Meridian, up on South Hill. You know, in Puyallup.”
    “I guess I don’t know.”
    “I didn’t either until a couple years ago. Ruth, a lady we used to work with, told me about it. The Pentecostal church owns a big piece of land out there and they built a theater. Every Friday and Saturday evening in spring and summer they put on the passion play. It’s all amateur, of course. The actors are from the church congregation, but it’s done really well. There’s an actual pond for John and the baptism and a lot of live animals. I took my folks last year. I think he’d like it, especially the horses and camels. I thought if I picked Dominic up about seven, we could see the play and then stop for some ice cream or something.”
    Andy was silent for a moment. “Okay, sure. Can I come too? It sounds interesting.”
    Interesting? Did he have any idea how condescending that sounded? Probably not.
    “Uh, yeah, I guess . That’ll be fine. Seven then?”
    “It’s a date.” Clamor came through the phone; he shouted at someone and hung up abruptly.
    Well, I guess it sort of is, with Andy tagging along. How do I feel about having Andy tagging along? They say keep your enemies close. Was that what Andy was doing? Or maybe I was doing it. At least I was headed for a safe date. Either Dominic or crowds of people would be around all the time. I was glad we wouldn’t be alone.
    The following day I went out at lunchtime. Andy was holding a restaurant door open for a slender, long-legged redhead. She wore a white mini-skirted business suit—an oxymoron if I there ever was one—and had an abundance of artfully tossed hair. I did a double take. At first she reminded me of Susan Sarandon. Then I realized in shape and coloring she could have been Isca’s double. How odd.
    Saturday morning I vacuumed and washed my car. The spring weather wouldn’t last so it was fun to work away with the warm sun on my arms. I put Jose’s cage in a spot where he could listen to the crows that chattered from the tops of the park’s trees. My sandals slapped water up the backs of my legs and starlings hopped in the trickles seeping down the pavement.
    People from the neighborhood stopped to speak as they strolled by, and my friends Dave and Francisco, who also lived in my late nineteenth century apartment building, came out to wash their vehicles, promising to wind up the hose when they were done.
    When the car was clean, I went through my wardrobe critically and

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