had a class to teach soon at her studio. As Sophie was shrugging on her coat, she said, "I had never thought of offering protein options for people who don't eat meat. I'm sure there will be people looking for meals who will appreciate it. One of my friends is vegetarian ninety-five percent of the time, but she will give in to her cravings and have a steak once in a while. Rori is on a different plane than most of us with her dietary convictions. I'm sure her views go beyond eating a plant-based diet just for good health. The world needs more people who are passionate about things they believe in."
Amy looked at the door that the yoga instructor had exited through. Rori's dedication to her earth-friendly lifestyle was admirable. But that zeal had gotten her on a list that was a very dangerous place to be. Shepler was a fair detective who would cross murder suspects off his list when he determined they weren't guilty of committing the crime. Until he got to that point, though, he methodically looked at all information both incriminating and exonerating. Since Amy hadn't spoken with the daddy-to-be recently, she had no idea which way his suspicion scales for Rori were tipping.
* * *
Amy had worn the red-hooded coat because she thought the color was cheerful, but now the clothing choice seemed to have plunked her in the middle of a fairy tale. Little Red Riding Hood driving her Mini through the forest on her way to see the widower Bates. A section of washboard-style bumps rattled her teeth and made the aluminum pans in the Styrofoam cooler sound as though they had come alive and were trying to claw their way out. The previous day, she had stopped by Buck's booth after she worked her shift to check on him. He admitted that he hadn't been eating much. So she decided delivering some of the bounty of freezer meals she had been producing was a good thing to do. Since she was running out of space in her and Carla's freezers, giving some meals to the widower was a good thing in more ways than one.
After calling the phone number on his business card several times and getting no answer, she set out to visit the address listed for his workshop. Maybe he was working with a saw or lathe and couldn't hear the phone ringing. As Amy bounced along the frozen dirt roads, she began to regret her decision. The houses were getting much farther apart. The forest was so thick some residences were only indicated by a mailbox and rutted driveway cutting through the brush then quickly disappearing in what appeared to be the movie set for a haunted forest.
Amy jumped when her phone's GPS app announced that her destination was on the right in one hundred feet. Mimi the Mini Cooper thumped around a rutted corner that the little car might not have made it down had the muddy grooves in the road not been frozen in place. A mailbox that looked like a red wood barn came into sight. She stopped and checked the white numbers painted on its side.
"Destination reached," announced the monotone voice from her phone.
The smooth gravel in the driveway crunched under her tires as she maneuvered along the winding lane that twisted between massive, old trees. Suddenly the forest opened up into an expansive yard. A brick ranch-style house sat in the middle of the rectangle of brown, dead grass. A wooden wishing well near the front door was crowned with a sign that said Esther Mae and Buck Bates . She was definitely at the right place.
An unattached garage sat close to the left side of the house. Behind that was a towering pole building with red metal siding—an almost exact match to the mailbox. A bow window filled with plants jutted out from the side of the house near the door closest to the driveway. There was a light on inside. Between the leaves, she could make out a white refrigerator. Maybe Buck had shut off the noisy equipment that had kept him from hearing his phone and stepped inside for lunch.
There was no doorbell button, so she knocked.
Amy looked at the door that the yoga instructor had exited through. Rori's dedication to her earth-friendly lifestyle was admirable. But that zeal had gotten her on a list that was a very dangerous place to be. Shepler was a fair detective who would cross murder suspects off his list when he determined they weren't guilty of committing the crime. Until he got to that point, though, he methodically looked at all information both incriminating and exonerating. Since Amy hadn't spoken with the daddy-to-be recently, she had no idea which way his suspicion scales for Rori were tipping.
* * *
Amy had worn the red-hooded coat because she thought the color was cheerful, but now the clothing choice seemed to have plunked her in the middle of a fairy tale. Little Red Riding Hood driving her Mini through the forest on her way to see the widower Bates. A section of washboard-style bumps rattled her teeth and made the aluminum pans in the Styrofoam cooler sound as though they had come alive and were trying to claw their way out. The previous day, she had stopped by Buck's booth after she worked her shift to check on him. He admitted that he hadn't been eating much. So she decided delivering some of the bounty of freezer meals she had been producing was a good thing to do. Since she was running out of space in her and Carla's freezers, giving some meals to the widower was a good thing in more ways than one.
After calling the phone number on his business card several times and getting no answer, she set out to visit the address listed for his workshop. Maybe he was working with a saw or lathe and couldn't hear the phone ringing. As Amy bounced along the frozen dirt roads, she began to regret her decision. The houses were getting much farther apart. The forest was so thick some residences were only indicated by a mailbox and rutted driveway cutting through the brush then quickly disappearing in what appeared to be the movie set for a haunted forest.
Amy jumped when her phone's GPS app announced that her destination was on the right in one hundred feet. Mimi the Mini Cooper thumped around a rutted corner that the little car might not have made it down had the muddy grooves in the road not been frozen in place. A mailbox that looked like a red wood barn came into sight. She stopped and checked the white numbers painted on its side.
"Destination reached," announced the monotone voice from her phone.
The smooth gravel in the driveway crunched under her tires as she maneuvered along the winding lane that twisted between massive, old trees. Suddenly the forest opened up into an expansive yard. A brick ranch-style house sat in the middle of the rectangle of brown, dead grass. A wooden wishing well near the front door was crowned with a sign that said Esther Mae and Buck Bates . She was definitely at the right place.
An unattached garage sat close to the left side of the house. Behind that was a towering pole building with red metal siding—an almost exact match to the mailbox. A bow window filled with plants jutted out from the side of the house near the door closest to the driveway. There was a light on inside. Between the leaves, she could make out a white refrigerator. Maybe Buck had shut off the noisy equipment that had kept him from hearing his phone and stepped inside for lunch.
There was no doorbell button, so she knocked.
Similar Books
