looking. It was all about finding the right questions to ask.
When she finished spreading the cream cheese, she covered the platter with plastic wrap, put it in the fridge to finish later, and then turned to eye the computer—the screen yawning at her, sucking her in.
Well, I have ten minutes. She smoothed her skirt beneath herself and sat back down at the computer. There was nothing else to do, right? She began scrolling through the listings and finally admitted to herself that if her intent was simply to apologize for being unable to help May, she wouldn’t be going to all this trouble. After everything that had happened this weekend, the thought of getting involved with another case should have been abhorrent. Instead, Sadie felt the same thrill run up her spine as when May had first mentioned her suspicions about her father’s death.
Easy Crab Dip
1 (8-ounce) package cream cheese, softened
1⁄4 cup cocktail sauce
1 (4.25-ounce) can lump crab meat
Lemon juice (to taste)
Crackers
Celery sticks
Place softened cream cheese in the middle of a medium-sized dinner plate or similarly sized platter. Using the back of a spoon, smooth cream cheese evenly across the surface of the plate. Spread a layer of cocktail sauce over the cream cheese.
Open canned crab meat, drain, and use a fork to fluff the meat. Spread crab meat evenly over the cocktail sauce.* (Drizzle lemon juice over crab for additional yumminess—but use sparingly!)
Use a firm cracker or celery stick to scoop up the layered dip.
*Breanna likes this dip with a drained can of tiny shrimp instead of the crab.
Chapter 7
By the time Sadie left for church, she was once again telling herself she was crazy. One person among millions? How could she believe that finding May Sanderson was even possible? If only she could remember that area code.
She pulled up to the gray stone church and parked her car. She sat for a minute, enjoying the car’s air conditioning before she had to step out into the heat.
She really, really didn’t want to be here today.
Eric’s words from the TV interview came back: “ passionate woman.” Her cheeks burned all over again. How would people interpret that? What would she think of it, if it had been said about someone else? After another minute, she took a deep breath and headed inside while putting her best fake smile on her face. She made it through the parking lot and most of the hallway before her luck ran out.
“Sadie!”
She felt she had no choice but to stop and turn in the direction of the voice. She didn’t want people to believe she was immoral and rude. Her smile tightened as she recognized Bertie Mayer. There was a joke that circulated under the breath of many of her fellow parishioners that if anyone knew anything about anyone else, it was because a little Bertie told them about it. As far as Sadie knew, Bertie was unaware of such comments, and yet she seemed to take an unnatural amount of pride in being the holder of so much information. It was important that Sadie play this well. “Good morning, Bertie.”
Bertie turned her head to the side, looking at Sadie with one eye—like a chicken. Her dusty gray hair was in a bob that ended in a sharp curl beneath each ear. Her body was long and thin, and she always leaned forward slightly, as though not wanting to miss a word someone might say in her presence. “There was an article about you in Friday’s paper, did you know?”
“Yes, I knew,” Sadie said, hoping none of the tightness in her chest showed on her face.
“It said some really . . . surprising things.”
“Yes, it did,” Sadie returned in her super-polite voice. “Freedom of the press can be a double-edged sword.”
Bertie nodded slowly, contemplating each word of Sadie’s answer. “I felt just awful for you,” she said, putting her hand to her chest. “And I said, that poor
When she finished spreading the cream cheese, she covered the platter with plastic wrap, put it in the fridge to finish later, and then turned to eye the computer—the screen yawning at her, sucking her in.
Well, I have ten minutes. She smoothed her skirt beneath herself and sat back down at the computer. There was nothing else to do, right? She began scrolling through the listings and finally admitted to herself that if her intent was simply to apologize for being unable to help May, she wouldn’t be going to all this trouble. After everything that had happened this weekend, the thought of getting involved with another case should have been abhorrent. Instead, Sadie felt the same thrill run up her spine as when May had first mentioned her suspicions about her father’s death.
Easy Crab Dip
1 (8-ounce) package cream cheese, softened
1⁄4 cup cocktail sauce
1 (4.25-ounce) can lump crab meat
Lemon juice (to taste)
Crackers
Celery sticks
Place softened cream cheese in the middle of a medium-sized dinner plate or similarly sized platter. Using the back of a spoon, smooth cream cheese evenly across the surface of the plate. Spread a layer of cocktail sauce over the cream cheese.
Open canned crab meat, drain, and use a fork to fluff the meat. Spread crab meat evenly over the cocktail sauce.* (Drizzle lemon juice over crab for additional yumminess—but use sparingly!)
Use a firm cracker or celery stick to scoop up the layered dip.
*Breanna likes this dip with a drained can of tiny shrimp instead of the crab.
Chapter 7
By the time Sadie left for church, she was once again telling herself she was crazy. One person among millions? How could she believe that finding May Sanderson was even possible? If only she could remember that area code.
She pulled up to the gray stone church and parked her car. She sat for a minute, enjoying the car’s air conditioning before she had to step out into the heat.
She really, really didn’t want to be here today.
Eric’s words from the TV interview came back: “ passionate woman.” Her cheeks burned all over again. How would people interpret that? What would she think of it, if it had been said about someone else? After another minute, she took a deep breath and headed inside while putting her best fake smile on her face. She made it through the parking lot and most of the hallway before her luck ran out.
“Sadie!”
She felt she had no choice but to stop and turn in the direction of the voice. She didn’t want people to believe she was immoral and rude. Her smile tightened as she recognized Bertie Mayer. There was a joke that circulated under the breath of many of her fellow parishioners that if anyone knew anything about anyone else, it was because a little Bertie told them about it. As far as Sadie knew, Bertie was unaware of such comments, and yet she seemed to take an unnatural amount of pride in being the holder of so much information. It was important that Sadie play this well. “Good morning, Bertie.”
Bertie turned her head to the side, looking at Sadie with one eye—like a chicken. Her dusty gray hair was in a bob that ended in a sharp curl beneath each ear. Her body was long and thin, and she always leaned forward slightly, as though not wanting to miss a word someone might say in her presence. “There was an article about you in Friday’s paper, did you know?”
“Yes, I knew,” Sadie said, hoping none of the tightness in her chest showed on her face.
“It said some really . . . surprising things.”
“Yes, it did,” Sadie returned in her super-polite voice. “Freedom of the press can be a double-edged sword.”
Bertie nodded slowly, contemplating each word of Sadie’s answer. “I felt just awful for you,” she said, putting her hand to her chest. “And I said, that poor
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