Barbara Graham - Quilted 03 - Murder by Music
came the kitchen, dining room and living room. The other side of the house contained two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a closet-sized library. Upstairs a single room ran the length of the house.
    A detached garage sat back from the street. Ruts worn into the grass made up the driveway.
    When his deputies arrived, he sighed heavily. “Sheila and
    Mike, I want you to talk to the neighbors. Wade, grab your fingerprint case. I'll get the camera.”
    He didn't expect to find much, and they didn't. When they gathered around Mr. Beasley's table, Tony flipped through his notes. “Anyone find anything?”
    “I did learn,” Sheila began, “that he argued publicly with some of his relatives after his wife died last year. Nothing specific.”
    “What did the neighbors think of him?” Tony thought of Orvan's complaints.
    Mike said, “He was crusty and cranky but not too bad. He didn't mind if kids used his yard for football games. Not Mr. Sunshine, but an okay guy.”
    “Wade?” Tony knew it would take fair amount of time and energy for Wade to identify the fingerprints.
    “Oddly, not much to do.” He twirled his best brush. “I found some smudges on the pill bottles. None on the glasses. The dishwasher was filled with clean dishes. There were smudges on the television remote and nothing else but a few partials. I'd say Blossom is a good housekeeper.”

C HAPTER S IX
    “Where's Dad?” said Jamie at breakfast. He sat at the opposite end of the table from Chris. Theo poured milk on Chris's cereal and headed for Jamie's bowl.
    “You remember he got called out last night? He got home late, so try to hold down the noise when you go back upstairs, okay?”
    “Okay.” Daisy sat next to Chris staring at him as he shoved a spoonful of cereal in on top of the one already in his mouth. The big dog didn't blink. “You leave today?” Milk seeped between his lips and dripped back into the bowl.
    “Don't talk with food in your mouth. And the answer is yes.” Theo sipped her coffee. “I'll leave about noon, so after school just walk to the shop. Miss Edith will pick you up, and she'll come over in case your Dad gets called out in the night.”
    “Dad's cooking, isn't he?” Jamie blew bubbles in his orange juice.
    Theo took the glass from him and set it on the table. “You know he is. We talked about it the other day.”
    “Well, you know, Mom,” Chris started, then swallowed before continuing, “it's good Dad can cook 'cause Miss Edith is the worst cook in town.”
    Jamie joined in. “Maybe in the whole world.”
    Theo smiled. “Then I suggest you encourage your dad's efforts. Edith might have to cook if you hurt his feelings.” She stood and checked a newspaper clipping attached to the refrigerator with a magnet cleverly disguised as a butterfly made from a magazine page. “Hot lunch today is tuna salad with crackers, broccoli casserole, black eyed peas and a cake square.”
    “What kind of cake?” Jamie looked interested.
    “It doesn't matter,” said Chris. “It's not worth eating if you have to look at their broccoli casserole. It's totally gross.” He made a melodramatic gagging sound until Theo glared at him. “I'm taking my lunch.”
    “Me too. Can I fix my own, Mom?”
    “Sure.” Theo handed Jamie a brown paper lunch bag. “Just remember to put in something more nutritious than chips and crackers. I'll be checking.”
    Chris jumped to his feet. “I'm first in the shower.” As soon as he was out of the chair, Daisy began mopping up the milk and cereal with her tongue.
    “He'll hog all the hot water, Mom.” Jamie starting moaning as he dried the apple Theo washed and handed to him.
    “Go ahead, Chris, and leave some hot water.”
    “Yeah, yeah.”
    Tony still wasn't up by the time both boys were showered, dressed and ready for school. The boys groaned out of habit when Theo posted their lists of chores to take care of until she got home Sunday afternoon. “Both of you check Daisy's water bowl several

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