Her entire body shivered with excitement at the chance that they’d find out who committed the crime. This might be exactly what they needed.
Charlotte was relieved that there was hope. “I hope they move quickly. You’ve been under enough stress with this mess. Did he say anything else?”
“No,” she said, then casually mentioned, “unless you count his usual finishing clause, ‘stay out of trouble’. He doesn’t seem to get that my life is on the line. How can I not get involved?”
“Uh oh, what are you thinking? Sweetie, maybe it’s time to let the police do their job.” Charlotte sensed Annie’s mind clicking.
“Char, what if they don’t? What if the person they question has some lame excuse? And who was it?” Annie knew she wouldn’t rest until the case was solved.
“You should ask Officer Rossi on a date and quiz him,” she rationalized.
“Oh sure, our local hot police officer would love to go out on a date with a murder suspect. Let’s think of something that might actually work,” Annie said, feeling stress slide from her shoulders. Maybe there was hope after all.
“It was worth a shot. You two would make a cute couple.” Charlotte couldn’t help mentioning that part.
“Stop trying to set me up,” Annie laughed. “Yes, he’s adorable, handsome, sexy, but I’m not interested in dating at this time. Maybe some other time when I’m not implicated in some horrendous crime.”
Charlotte changed the topic. “So, my daughter called last night. She wants to send me brochures. She said she found a lovely facility, and don’t worry Mom, there are seniors of all ages there living an active lifestyle.”
“Not again,” Annie groaned.
“I finally stopped telling her to leave me alone. ‘Sure, send them over,’ I said, trying to get her to shut up over the entire thing. I have no intention of reading them, but if she wants to waste her time sending them to me, so be it. Maybe if she thinks I’ll consider it, she’ll get off my back. Doesn’t she have enough to keep her busy out there? She’s always hovering over me like I’m some frail bird.”
“She loves you. She just happens to live across the country and this is her way of getting you closer,” Annie suggested.
“Closer? Invite me to your home, not some feeble-assisted living place for people who can’t feed themselves. Fine, fine, maybe there are some active people, but when you start getting older, being around a lot of old people can be depressing. All they talk about is their latest doctor’s appointment or what new medicine they’re taking. Ah yes, and reminiscing about the past, as if the present is gone.” Charlotte growled, “I’m a vibrant woman still, stop trying to push me into a box!”
“Tell us how you really feel,” Annie teased. “No sense in holding back.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to go off. I mean, my problems are small compared to what you’re going through, but they simply will not drop the topic. Let’s get back to your stuff. Who do you think the glove belonged to?”
“I’m not sure, but Trish and Greg were acting weird. I think they’re hiding more information than they are letting on. If they aren’t the ones who did it, they know who did. The question is, how to get them to confess? Of course, I could be barking up the wrong tree completely. The other person who keeps popping up is Mrs. Bushmiller. Who wanted Patsy dead , and why?”
Charlotte noodled on the information. “Okay, so let’s put the three of them at the top of the list. What else do we know about Mrs. Bushmiller? You said she keeps showing up.”
“Not much. She’s a year-round islander. All I know about her is she’s sort of like her own dedicated neighborhood watch. She’s always peeping out that window, and she mentioned her dog barking in the middle of the night. That was right before I found the glove. So maybe she knows more and isn’t saying anything, or maybe she planted that piece of
Charlotte was relieved that there was hope. “I hope they move quickly. You’ve been under enough stress with this mess. Did he say anything else?”
“No,” she said, then casually mentioned, “unless you count his usual finishing clause, ‘stay out of trouble’. He doesn’t seem to get that my life is on the line. How can I not get involved?”
“Uh oh, what are you thinking? Sweetie, maybe it’s time to let the police do their job.” Charlotte sensed Annie’s mind clicking.
“Char, what if they don’t? What if the person they question has some lame excuse? And who was it?” Annie knew she wouldn’t rest until the case was solved.
“You should ask Officer Rossi on a date and quiz him,” she rationalized.
“Oh sure, our local hot police officer would love to go out on a date with a murder suspect. Let’s think of something that might actually work,” Annie said, feeling stress slide from her shoulders. Maybe there was hope after all.
“It was worth a shot. You two would make a cute couple.” Charlotte couldn’t help mentioning that part.
“Stop trying to set me up,” Annie laughed. “Yes, he’s adorable, handsome, sexy, but I’m not interested in dating at this time. Maybe some other time when I’m not implicated in some horrendous crime.”
Charlotte changed the topic. “So, my daughter called last night. She wants to send me brochures. She said she found a lovely facility, and don’t worry Mom, there are seniors of all ages there living an active lifestyle.”
“Not again,” Annie groaned.
“I finally stopped telling her to leave me alone. ‘Sure, send them over,’ I said, trying to get her to shut up over the entire thing. I have no intention of reading them, but if she wants to waste her time sending them to me, so be it. Maybe if she thinks I’ll consider it, she’ll get off my back. Doesn’t she have enough to keep her busy out there? She’s always hovering over me like I’m some frail bird.”
“She loves you. She just happens to live across the country and this is her way of getting you closer,” Annie suggested.
“Closer? Invite me to your home, not some feeble-assisted living place for people who can’t feed themselves. Fine, fine, maybe there are some active people, but when you start getting older, being around a lot of old people can be depressing. All they talk about is their latest doctor’s appointment or what new medicine they’re taking. Ah yes, and reminiscing about the past, as if the present is gone.” Charlotte growled, “I’m a vibrant woman still, stop trying to push me into a box!”
“Tell us how you really feel,” Annie teased. “No sense in holding back.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to go off. I mean, my problems are small compared to what you’re going through, but they simply will not drop the topic. Let’s get back to your stuff. Who do you think the glove belonged to?”
“I’m not sure, but Trish and Greg were acting weird. I think they’re hiding more information than they are letting on. If they aren’t the ones who did it, they know who did. The question is, how to get them to confess? Of course, I could be barking up the wrong tree completely. The other person who keeps popping up is Mrs. Bushmiller. Who wanted Patsy dead , and why?”
Charlotte noodled on the information. “Okay, so let’s put the three of them at the top of the list. What else do we know about Mrs. Bushmiller? You said she keeps showing up.”
“Not much. She’s a year-round islander. All I know about her is she’s sort of like her own dedicated neighborhood watch. She’s always peeping out that window, and she mentioned her dog barking in the middle of the night. That was right before I found the glove. So maybe she knows more and isn’t saying anything, or maybe she planted that piece of
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