Eine Kleine Murder by Kaye George Page A

their embracing welcome was as warm as their small kitchen.
    The meal was ready to dish up, so we started in as soon as I arrived. Grace served the catfish Al had caught that morning. Grace knew exactly how to bread and fry them: a little light cornmeal, a sprinkle of oregano and thyme from her herb garden, she told me, then quickly sear in the flavor. We also had delicious sunfish in an onion and garlic sauce, plus corn on the cob, dripping with butter.
    â€œI’m grateful you were Gram’s friends,” I told them both as our flatware clanked merrily on pretty china plates.
    â€œWell, gracious, she was our friend, too,” said Grace.
    â€œShe never really wrote about anyone except you two. Do you know who lives next door to me?” I recalled the two children, one with a bruised cheek, slipping through the door. “Do two little girls live there?”
    Al gave me a blank look. “Little girls? No, they don’t live next door to you. They live in the next house.” That was the one with the blue shutters that Mr. Toombs had come out of.
    â€œEve lives next door to you,” said Grace. “She’s at least our age, no little girls.”
    â€œAnd she’s not good with children,” Al broke in. His voice lowered and his face reddened. Grace turned to me and changed the subject.
    â€œYou’ll have to see my herb bed another day,” offered Grace. “I’d show it to you tonight, but it’s too dark. You’ll have to come back and see it in daylight.”
    Al glowered and lowered his head.
    â€œMaybe tomorrow.” The tension between them puzzled me. It was the mention of Eve that set him off. I wondered why.
    Grace nodded, smiling. “I hope you’ll be able to enjoy at least some of your time here. We love it. And our grandkids do, too. We have twin boys, one in Wisconsin and one in Minnesota, but they always send our grandsons to visit in August.”
    â€œI wonder,” said Al, “if any of them will ever want our cabin, since they didn’t grow up around here. If Grace and I should ever leave …”
    â€œLeave? Are you moving?” He sounded sad. Was he going to get upset again?
    â€œThere’s a chance. If my condition—”
    â€œAl,” interrupted Grace. “Remember?” She gave him a cautionary look over the top of her wire-rimmed glasses.
    He nodded and returned to his meal. That condition was taking a beating. The storm had passed again, gone as quickly as it flared up. I didn’t dare mention the little girls again.

Chapter 10
    Crescendo: Swelling, increasing in loudness (Ital.)
    Fat, lazy June bugs, drawn by the yellow light washing into the yard, crashed against the screen door in their silly spring ritual. I hated to ruin the mood, but I had to ask some more questions about Gram’s death, so I swallowed my last bite of catfish and dived in.
    â€œYou were my grandmother’s swimming buddy, weren’t you, Grace?”
    â€œUsually. We’d been in together the night before she drowned.”
    â€œAre there any undercurrents in the water?”
    â€œNo, just underground springs. They keep the lake from freezing completely in the winter. The springs aren’t very warm, not warm enough for me. I can’t swim in the winter.” She shivered thinking about it. “But Ida would swim sometimes when it was too cold for me. She was so stubborn about things. I used to call her pig-headed to her face. She had the idea swimming in cold water is good for you.” I knew about that. “Really, she could swim in anything. She was such a strong swimmer, but, well, we all get older.” Grace shook her head. “I sure wish I’d been home …”
    She set her empty ear of corn on her plate and wiped the butter and salt off her hands. “I feel so guilty about her death. Not being there. Maybe if I had been …” Grace snatched her glasses off and swiped