Death Over the Dam (A Hunter Jones Mystery Book 2) by Charlotte Moore

her dad and I’d sure like to ask her how to catch up with him. He has some old cameras you wouldn’t believe, and he wanted to sell this old Hasselblad…”
    “No. I really don’t. I’m sorry,” Hunter said.
    She considered telling him where to find Sharon Bennett, and reconsidered. Sharon might be more cooperative with a man, but that was just the point. Ned might be willing to ask other writers for information, but he’d be naturally cagey about his own plans, and if anybody was going to do the first story about Deirdre Dee Dee Donagan Bennett moving to the boondocks, it was going to be Hunter Jones, not Ned Thigpen.
    She did tell him how to get to Cathay, though, and she began to wonder as she wound up drawing a map, explaining and re-explaining, how the man had even found his way to Merchantsville.
    “You ought to get a GPS,” she said.
    “People keep telling me that,” he said, “but I’m just not into all this technology stuff. I’m still using film in my camera, too. Probably the last one left in Georgia besides Mike Donagan. He’s still using film, or he was last I talked to him. Said he wouldn’t ever change, and he’s into all the other computer stuff big time. He just likes doing his own developing.”
    Hunter finally got him out the door, and then he popped back in again
    “How’s that restaurant on the other side of the courthouse?” he said, “I’m going to need some supper. I’ll treat if you want to join me.”
    “It’s good,” Hunter said, “and thank you, but I’ve got a meeting.”
    Ned Thigpen waved goodbye.
    “Who was that?” Tyler said, coming out of his office.
    “You ever heard of Ned Thigpen?”
    “Oh, yeah. Freelancer, lots of folksy stuff with pretty good pictures.”
    “That’s the one,” Hunter said, “He’s way out of his territory. I did tell him how to get to Cathay, but I don’t know if he’s even going to find the bridge.”
    She was about to tell Tyler that Ned Thigpen had known about the artist who did her new paintings, but Novena came through the door triumphant over her ad sales and when the celebrating was over, everybody settled back down to work.
    Meanwhile on the other side of the flooded river, in the office of The Good Shepherd Church, Arnette Rayburn was having a comfortable talk with her husband, Pastor Jimmy Rayburn, going over plans for the week, talking about the flock, members and non-members, they considered their responsibility.
    “I went over this morning and took Dee Dee Bennett a casserole from the freezer,” Arnette said, “and you won’t believe what she asked me.”
    “Yes I will,” said Pastor Jimmy, who tended to be literal. “Of course I’ll believe you.”
    “She asked me what heaven looked like,” Arnette said.
    “And what did you tell her?” her husband asked.
    “Well I tried to remember everything I could from the Bible. I told her it would have streets paved with gold and there would angels singing to God, and that there would be a crystal lake and all kinds of precious jewels and light everywhere..”
    “Why do you suppose she wanted to know that?” Pastor Jimmy asked.
    “It turned out she wanted to do a painting of it,” Arnette said. “She said she wanted to do a painting with this world down below and Heaven on top of the clouds, and she wasn’t sure she could get all of that many things in. I told her I thought that would be real sweet however she did it, and not to worry too much about getting it exactly right, because if her heart was in the right place, Jesus would guide her hand.”
    Pastor Jimmy considered this carefully and said, “I’d like to see that painting. Maybe we could buy it for the children’s Sunday school room.
    “Or maybe I could talk her into painting a mural on the wall in there,” Arnette said. “She needs to get out more.”

CHAPTER 9
    T UESDAY WAS A SCORCHER, BUT IT was good day for business in Merchantsville, as volunteers poured in to help with the disaster in