my retirement other than after a day of crazy callers at my radio job and I wanted to quit. "Can I do anything to help?"
She jerked her hand free and shoved the napkin scraps into her empty mug. "Don't tell me. Let me guess. You want to give him a job here like the rest of us strays?"
"First of all, you aren't strays and second if you think he'd like to work here—"
"Ha!" She swatted her hand at me. "You are a hopeless bleeding heart. Don't know how we keep this place in the black with all your charity work. But no thanks. I'd rather have a root canal than work next to Zeke."
"Okay, fine. So I won't give him a job. Maybe he can find something at Pacific Pickles."
"You know I don't like that place. Gary Buzzy gettin' killed just proves the place is cursed."
"We don't know Gary 's death had anything to do with the factory. At least not yet."
"What do you mean not yet? You planning on looking into this?"
I couldn't lie to her, but I also couldn't admit I was checking into Gary 's murder until after I told Adam. I averted my gaze and stood. "Let me know if I can do anything to help Zeke find a job. You know I'll be praying for him."
"Nice one, Paige. Telling me you'll pray for him so I stop asking about what you plan to do."
I gave her an innocent smile and walked to the hallway.
"That's it," she called out. "Force the news oughta me and then run away when I turn the tables on you."
Chuckling at the return of her feisty attitude, I went to my office to drop off the coffee mug then headed for the alley. I pushed open the heavy metal door and the sun hit me square in the face. With as much force as a hurricane, I let out a honking sun sneeze.
"Paige? That you Paige?" Verna Meyer, owner of the Scrapbook Emporium called from down the alley.
I stepped around my truck and gave her a friendly wave. "Hi, Verna."
She stuck her cane into the gravel and started my way. Before making her cross over to me, stressing her arthritic joints, I rushed to her. She kept plodding my way, her elephant leg pants swishing in the breeze. The purple gauzy pants were topped with a gold and violet swirly patterned tunic that I was certain was a sixties holdover.
"Can I help you with something, Verna?" I asked when I reached her.
She grabbed my sleeve with a gnarled hand and pulled me close. "Please tell me you didn't really find Gary Buzzy's body."
News traveled so fast in this town, I was surprised people didn't know what I did before I even thought about doing it. "Daisy was the one who found him. Then she called me to come help her." I eased back forcing Verna out of my personal space so I didn't have to inhale the minty but obnoxious scent of ointment she'd rubbed on her joints.
"That girl doesn't know how lucky she is to have a good friend like you. Giving her a job when she's down on her luck. Then keeping her on even when she's about as handy to have around as a bent screwdriver."
Ooh, slam. I could comment on my quirky employee all I wanted, but that didn't mean I'd let others bad mouth her. I opened my mouth to defend Daisy, but let it close when I saw Verna's eyes cloud with worry.
"What's happening around here, Paige? Two murders in a little over a month. I don't even feel safe anymore." She adjusted her stance, shifting the weight off one leg and settling on the other.
"I don't think you have to worry. This wasn't some random crime. Gary was most likely killed by someone close to him."
"Does the chief already have a suspect?"
"No, not yet. But I'm sure it won't be long before he arrests someone." Especially if I, super sleuth, get to work and turn the killer over to him.
"Someone like his wife, maybe?"
Karen? Did Verna know something I didn't know? Her smug smile said yes, but her evasive eyes said no.
"You have a reason to think Karen might have done it?" I locked eyes with her.
She quickly averted her eyes. "No, I guess not."
Yes, you do. I stepped into her line of sight. "You know something, Verna. What is
She jerked her hand free and shoved the napkin scraps into her empty mug. "Don't tell me. Let me guess. You want to give him a job here like the rest of us strays?"
"First of all, you aren't strays and second if you think he'd like to work here—"
"Ha!" She swatted her hand at me. "You are a hopeless bleeding heart. Don't know how we keep this place in the black with all your charity work. But no thanks. I'd rather have a root canal than work next to Zeke."
"Okay, fine. So I won't give him a job. Maybe he can find something at Pacific Pickles."
"You know I don't like that place. Gary Buzzy gettin' killed just proves the place is cursed."
"We don't know Gary 's death had anything to do with the factory. At least not yet."
"What do you mean not yet? You planning on looking into this?"
I couldn't lie to her, but I also couldn't admit I was checking into Gary 's murder until after I told Adam. I averted my gaze and stood. "Let me know if I can do anything to help Zeke find a job. You know I'll be praying for him."
"Nice one, Paige. Telling me you'll pray for him so I stop asking about what you plan to do."
I gave her an innocent smile and walked to the hallway.
"That's it," she called out. "Force the news oughta me and then run away when I turn the tables on you."
Chuckling at the return of her feisty attitude, I went to my office to drop off the coffee mug then headed for the alley. I pushed open the heavy metal door and the sun hit me square in the face. With as much force as a hurricane, I let out a honking sun sneeze.
"Paige? That you Paige?" Verna Meyer, owner of the Scrapbook Emporium called from down the alley.
I stepped around my truck and gave her a friendly wave. "Hi, Verna."
She stuck her cane into the gravel and started my way. Before making her cross over to me, stressing her arthritic joints, I rushed to her. She kept plodding my way, her elephant leg pants swishing in the breeze. The purple gauzy pants were topped with a gold and violet swirly patterned tunic that I was certain was a sixties holdover.
"Can I help you with something, Verna?" I asked when I reached her.
She grabbed my sleeve with a gnarled hand and pulled me close. "Please tell me you didn't really find Gary Buzzy's body."
News traveled so fast in this town, I was surprised people didn't know what I did before I even thought about doing it. "Daisy was the one who found him. Then she called me to come help her." I eased back forcing Verna out of my personal space so I didn't have to inhale the minty but obnoxious scent of ointment she'd rubbed on her joints.
"That girl doesn't know how lucky she is to have a good friend like you. Giving her a job when she's down on her luck. Then keeping her on even when she's about as handy to have around as a bent screwdriver."
Ooh, slam. I could comment on my quirky employee all I wanted, but that didn't mean I'd let others bad mouth her. I opened my mouth to defend Daisy, but let it close when I saw Verna's eyes cloud with worry.
"What's happening around here, Paige? Two murders in a little over a month. I don't even feel safe anymore." She adjusted her stance, shifting the weight off one leg and settling on the other.
"I don't think you have to worry. This wasn't some random crime. Gary was most likely killed by someone close to him."
"Does the chief already have a suspect?"
"No, not yet. But I'm sure it won't be long before he arrests someone." Especially if I, super sleuth, get to work and turn the killer over to him.
"Someone like his wife, maybe?"
Karen? Did Verna know something I didn't know? Her smug smile said yes, but her evasive eyes said no.
"You have a reason to think Karen might have done it?" I locked eyes with her.
She quickly averted her eyes. "No, I guess not."
Yes, you do. I stepped into her line of sight. "You know something, Verna. What is
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