Barbara Levenson - Mary Magruder Katz 03 - Outrageous October by Barbara Levenson Page A
Authors: Barbara Levenson
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I’m curious about the murder you were talking about. Is it the one in the headline in yesterday’s paper?”
“Well, of course. We don’t usually have more than one murder to talk about. Carolyn Brousseau was murdered last October. It’s been almost one year and no one’s been arrested. Our sheriff questioned a lot of folks but nothing’s ever come of it. People in the Upper Valley are concerned that someone will strike again. It looked like a robbery, but I’ve talked to Jimmy, that’s our sheriff, and he believes that it was Carolyn’s son who did it. Don’t repeat that. I shouldn’t be telling you something told to me in confidence.”
“Don’t worry, Riley. I don’t know anyone here to talk to.”
“You will. It’s a very friendly place. You’ll meet lots of people in no time. Meanwhile, if you’re lonesome you know where to find me. Stop in at the end of the week and we’ll make a plan for the weekend.”
.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
“I drove to the visitor’s center, and parked at the entrance to the trails leading to the Gorge. Standing on the bridge above it, it looked like the hike would be a tough descent and an even harder climb back to the road. I put Sam on his leash and decided to get some guidance inside the center.
Two people were behind the counter which was covered in maps of the area. Both looked to be in their seventies or older. The woman turned to the man and said, “I’ll take this one, Henry. You can take a break.”
Henry moved from behind the counter. He leaned heavily on a walker.
“What can I do for you?” the woman turned to me.
“I need some information about the hike into the Gorge. How difficult is it?”
“My land, it’s so easy little kids do it all the time. Your dog can do this hike with no effort,” she said.
“I guess it just looks so deep. I come from Miami, Florida. We don’t have any hills except Mt. Trashmore. That’s our landfill.”
“You really are a ‘flatlander’. No offense, that’s what we call you people from away. If you weren’t born here, you’re a ‘flatlander’. I guess the gorge is deep enough for us to have at least one suicide jump every year. We’re about due for one. Say, did you say Miami? Are you Lucy Morgan’s friend?”
Yes, I’m Mary Katz. I haven’t heard Lucy called Morgan for a while. She’s been Lucy Stern for at least twelve years.”
“I’m Harriet McIntosh. We heard you were coming to visit. Good to meet you. Lucy was one of our favorites. Her grandma was a great lady. We all miss her. Now let me get you some trail maps, and I’ll draw some easy hikes for you.” She produced a yellow marking pen. “And, let me suggest that you invest in some hiking boots and a good fleece jacket, if you’re going to stay for a while. You can go over to Bradford to the Farmway Store. They’re always having a sale. I’ll show you how to get there on this map. Those sneakers won’t feel so good if they get wet.”
I glanced at the maps. “How far is it to Hanover, New Hampshire? That’s where Dartmouth College is, isn’t it?”
“Oh, that’s just a hop and a skip from here. Not more than fifteen minutes. Maybe ten, depending how fast you drive. It’s a pretty drive and a beautiful campus especially at this time of the year with the leaves changing. You got friends over there?”
“The son and daughter of one of my clients go to school there. Do cell phones work in this area? Maybe I’ll call them”
“Sure do. At least most of the time. Now you stop in anytime and we’ll be glad to help you. And tell Lucy we all send our love.” Harriet turned to assist a family that had just walked in.
I walked back to my car, and fished out my little address book in my backpack. I still hadn’t transferred most of the numbers into my cell. I found the address and phone number for Sherry Yarmouth.
Sherry and Brett Yarmouth are the offspring of Gary and Lillian Yarmouth. Lillian was accused of stabbing Gary to
“Well, of course. We don’t usually have more than one murder to talk about. Carolyn Brousseau was murdered last October. It’s been almost one year and no one’s been arrested. Our sheriff questioned a lot of folks but nothing’s ever come of it. People in the Upper Valley are concerned that someone will strike again. It looked like a robbery, but I’ve talked to Jimmy, that’s our sheriff, and he believes that it was Carolyn’s son who did it. Don’t repeat that. I shouldn’t be telling you something told to me in confidence.”
“Don’t worry, Riley. I don’t know anyone here to talk to.”
“You will. It’s a very friendly place. You’ll meet lots of people in no time. Meanwhile, if you’re lonesome you know where to find me. Stop in at the end of the week and we’ll make a plan for the weekend.”
.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
“I drove to the visitor’s center, and parked at the entrance to the trails leading to the Gorge. Standing on the bridge above it, it looked like the hike would be a tough descent and an even harder climb back to the road. I put Sam on his leash and decided to get some guidance inside the center.
Two people were behind the counter which was covered in maps of the area. Both looked to be in their seventies or older. The woman turned to the man and said, “I’ll take this one, Henry. You can take a break.”
Henry moved from behind the counter. He leaned heavily on a walker.
“What can I do for you?” the woman turned to me.
“I need some information about the hike into the Gorge. How difficult is it?”
“My land, it’s so easy little kids do it all the time. Your dog can do this hike with no effort,” she said.
“I guess it just looks so deep. I come from Miami, Florida. We don’t have any hills except Mt. Trashmore. That’s our landfill.”
“You really are a ‘flatlander’. No offense, that’s what we call you people from away. If you weren’t born here, you’re a ‘flatlander’. I guess the gorge is deep enough for us to have at least one suicide jump every year. We’re about due for one. Say, did you say Miami? Are you Lucy Morgan’s friend?”
Yes, I’m Mary Katz. I haven’t heard Lucy called Morgan for a while. She’s been Lucy Stern for at least twelve years.”
“I’m Harriet McIntosh. We heard you were coming to visit. Good to meet you. Lucy was one of our favorites. Her grandma was a great lady. We all miss her. Now let me get you some trail maps, and I’ll draw some easy hikes for you.” She produced a yellow marking pen. “And, let me suggest that you invest in some hiking boots and a good fleece jacket, if you’re going to stay for a while. You can go over to Bradford to the Farmway Store. They’re always having a sale. I’ll show you how to get there on this map. Those sneakers won’t feel so good if they get wet.”
I glanced at the maps. “How far is it to Hanover, New Hampshire? That’s where Dartmouth College is, isn’t it?”
“Oh, that’s just a hop and a skip from here. Not more than fifteen minutes. Maybe ten, depending how fast you drive. It’s a pretty drive and a beautiful campus especially at this time of the year with the leaves changing. You got friends over there?”
“The son and daughter of one of my clients go to school there. Do cell phones work in this area? Maybe I’ll call them”
“Sure do. At least most of the time. Now you stop in anytime and we’ll be glad to help you. And tell Lucy we all send our love.” Harriet turned to assist a family that had just walked in.
I walked back to my car, and fished out my little address book in my backpack. I still hadn’t transferred most of the numbers into my cell. I found the address and phone number for Sherry Yarmouth.
Sherry and Brett Yarmouth are the offspring of Gary and Lillian Yarmouth. Lillian was accused of stabbing Gary to
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