aren’t you?” he asked.
“No.” I didn’t want to see any familiar faces, but also didn’t feel like explaining this. “I’ll go to a later service by myself.”
Our dog, meanwhile, put her front paws on the edge of the bed beside Jim and shoved her cold, wet little nose into my face, whining for attention. I got up, put on my bathrobe and slippers, and went downstairs, just as Jim was trying to hustle everyone into the car. Karen gave me a reassuring smile before heading out to the garage. We’d both gotten home last night just before midnight. She’d said her date was “good,” that dinner was “good,” and the movie was “pretty good.” She was horrified at my news, but at least she’d heard it directly from me.
Our fourteen-year-old, Nathan, stalled as he put on his coat. He was tall and thin with a band of brown freckles across his nose and cheeks. These days he kept his hair very short and combed with gel into what was called a “ski jump” in the front. He asked me what happened last night. I told him only that Kelly’s mother was dead and that I didn’t feel up to talking about it. Void of all energy, I sank into a living room chair and stared at the wall.
Not ten minutes later, the doorbell rang, which, great watchdog that she is, got Betty Cocker to start barking. “Hush, BC,” I said. She looked up at me, continuing to bark. “On second thought, speak.” We’d been working to train her out of the barking at the doorbell, but with a murderer on the loose, we could probably use as much protection around here as possible.
I cinched my robe tighter and approached the door, thinking if this proved to be a reporter, I would go into attack mode myself and save BC the effort. A second thought occurred to me: If this was Stephanie, I would
really
launch into attack mode.
The barking immediately stopped and turned to tail wags as I opened the door. Standing there was Lauren, who must have made the short walk between our homes. My eyes misted at the welcome sight of her attractive, round face. She had a small bag in her hand, which she ignored as she gave me a hug. “I should have gone with you last night.”
“It wouldn’t have changed anything,” I said as she released me from her hug.
“You might not have doubled back. You might not have had to be the one to find her.”
“It’s the story of my life. I never arrive early enough to prevent the murder, just to find the body. I should run for county coroner.”
She gave BC, whose interest had turned to sniffing the bag in her hand, a quick little pat. “Tommy said you were pretty shaken up last night.”
I nodded. “I didn’t feel like going to church this morning. So the place is quiet, if you can stay for a while.” I put a hopeful tone in my voice, needing Lauren’s companionship.
We automatically started for the kitchen, where, on our stools at the counter, we’d had so many heart-to-hearts over the years. “I brought you a muffin.”
Our standard “comfort” food. “Thanks. Whatever would I do without you and your muffins?”
“I don’t know, but since I bake when I’m upset, I’d weigh two hundred pounds if I didn’t have you to eat them.”
I chuckled a little, my humor returning. “You know, when the doorbell rang this morning, my first thought was that it’d be Stephanie, wanting to know who I thought—”
The doorbell rang, again instantly augmented by my dog’s barks. Lauren and I exchanged glances.
“Couldn’t be,” I said. My parents were currently in Florida, so there was no way that this could be my mother. Reaching for an alternate explanation, I called over my shoulder, “Isn’t this Girl Scout Cookie season?” as I went to the door.
It was indeed Stephanie. The sight of her on my doorstep made me want to join BC at barking. Stephanie was wearing a powder-blue tailored pants suit, her hair wrapped up in a scarf, turban style. I stared at her, speechless. She must really be in quite a
“No.” I didn’t want to see any familiar faces, but also didn’t feel like explaining this. “I’ll go to a later service by myself.”
Our dog, meanwhile, put her front paws on the edge of the bed beside Jim and shoved her cold, wet little nose into my face, whining for attention. I got up, put on my bathrobe and slippers, and went downstairs, just as Jim was trying to hustle everyone into the car. Karen gave me a reassuring smile before heading out to the garage. We’d both gotten home last night just before midnight. She’d said her date was “good,” that dinner was “good,” and the movie was “pretty good.” She was horrified at my news, but at least she’d heard it directly from me.
Our fourteen-year-old, Nathan, stalled as he put on his coat. He was tall and thin with a band of brown freckles across his nose and cheeks. These days he kept his hair very short and combed with gel into what was called a “ski jump” in the front. He asked me what happened last night. I told him only that Kelly’s mother was dead and that I didn’t feel up to talking about it. Void of all energy, I sank into a living room chair and stared at the wall.
Not ten minutes later, the doorbell rang, which, great watchdog that she is, got Betty Cocker to start barking. “Hush, BC,” I said. She looked up at me, continuing to bark. “On second thought, speak.” We’d been working to train her out of the barking at the doorbell, but with a murderer on the loose, we could probably use as much protection around here as possible.
I cinched my robe tighter and approached the door, thinking if this proved to be a reporter, I would go into attack mode myself and save BC the effort. A second thought occurred to me: If this was Stephanie, I would
really
launch into attack mode.
The barking immediately stopped and turned to tail wags as I opened the door. Standing there was Lauren, who must have made the short walk between our homes. My eyes misted at the welcome sight of her attractive, round face. She had a small bag in her hand, which she ignored as she gave me a hug. “I should have gone with you last night.”
“It wouldn’t have changed anything,” I said as she released me from her hug.
“You might not have doubled back. You might not have had to be the one to find her.”
“It’s the story of my life. I never arrive early enough to prevent the murder, just to find the body. I should run for county coroner.”
She gave BC, whose interest had turned to sniffing the bag in her hand, a quick little pat. “Tommy said you were pretty shaken up last night.”
I nodded. “I didn’t feel like going to church this morning. So the place is quiet, if you can stay for a while.” I put a hopeful tone in my voice, needing Lauren’s companionship.
We automatically started for the kitchen, where, on our stools at the counter, we’d had so many heart-to-hearts over the years. “I brought you a muffin.”
Our standard “comfort” food. “Thanks. Whatever would I do without you and your muffins?”
“I don’t know, but since I bake when I’m upset, I’d weigh two hundred pounds if I didn’t have you to eat them.”
I chuckled a little, my humor returning. “You know, when the doorbell rang this morning, my first thought was that it’d be Stephanie, wanting to know who I thought—”
The doorbell rang, again instantly augmented by my dog’s barks. Lauren and I exchanged glances.
“Couldn’t be,” I said. My parents were currently in Florida, so there was no way that this could be my mother. Reaching for an alternate explanation, I called over my shoulder, “Isn’t this Girl Scout Cookie season?” as I went to the door.
It was indeed Stephanie. The sight of her on my doorstep made me want to join BC at barking. Stephanie was wearing a powder-blue tailored pants suit, her hair wrapped up in a scarf, turban style. I stared at her, speechless. She must really be in quite a
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