baked goodies tickled my good intentions and before I knew it, I’d ordered a half-dozen assorted cupcakes with my cappuccino and Jenna’s skinny latte.
“Is it true you’ve bought Hollow House from George Hollow?” Lily called out loudly to be heard above the hissing machine. “Will you keep it as an inn, or make it your primary residence?”
My lips twitched. Primary residence? As opposed to what? All the other residences I’d accumulated on my road to fame? “You do know I ran off to Broadway, not Hollywood, right?”
She threw me a ‘so what?’ look over her shoulder.
The money side of Broadway sucked, that was what. Well, unless you were some rich and famous big screen star slumming it in the name of art. I guessed they did okay.
I would have enlightened her on the economic inequalities of my chosen profession, but I had a rumor to nip in the bud.
“Actually,” I told Lily, “you were right the first time, I’m just visiting. And I only invested a tiny amount in Hollow House, a couple of shares, that kind of thing. Mr Hollow still owns the place lock, stock and—” sinking “—barrel.”
Lily placed the two take-out coffees on the counter and leaned across, her voice dropping to a whisper as her eyes widened on me. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but it’s awful about Ms Daggon, isn’t it?”
I wasn’t surprised she’d already heard. Bad news traveled faster than the sound of thunder in Silver Firs. I was worried she hadn’t listened carefully enough to my detailed explanation. “Absolutely awful, but about Hollow House, you should know I didn’t buy—”
“Yes, you said, but did you really find her in the kitchen when you came down this morning?” Lily grabbed a flat-pack container and boxed it for the selection of cupcakes. “What a horrible thing to wake up to, even if it was Ms Daggon. What was she doing when you found her?”
I scratched the corner of my eye. “Um, she was, you know…?”
Lily’s brows perked expectantly.
“Dead,” I spelled out.
“Oh, yes, but I mean before,” she said as she filled the box with pieces of frosted and sprinkled heaven. “I read once about a woman who tripped while emptying the dishwasher and skewered herself on a carving knife, can you believe it?”
She shuddered and slid the cupcake box next to the coffees.
I reached into my back pocket for cash while Lily rang it up, only she didn’t. She folded her arms on the counter, looking at me, waiting.
Oh.
“What was Ms Daggon doing?” I frowned quizzically, my best impression of thinking real hard, and reached back again for my phone and held it up apologetically. “Sorry, I should probably get this.”
“Did it go off?”
“Buzzed, the volume’s turned down,” I assured her, deftly turning the phone on.
Born and raised in Silver Firs, I could gossip with the best of them, and I didn’t know why this felt wrong, only that it did. I disliked the woman intensely, but I didn’t want to pick apart Ms Daggon’s last minutes either.
Maybe it was all that venting I’d done this morning before her corpse was even cold. What was the matter with me? I was no angel, but I believed in reserving a little respect for the dead whether they deserved it or not.
Lily was still watching me with those rounded blue eyes, so I put the phone to my ear and engaged in a vivid catch-up with my city friend Patricia whose basset hound was littering pups even as we spoke.
Did I know any Patricia?
Of course not, that’s just how good I was and a minute later I was walking down Main Road, phone hooked between my ear and shoulder, coffees balanced precariously on the lid of the cupcake box.
I cut through the small playground on the corner of Birch and Main and crossed the road to The Vine, where I had to butt-bump my way through the gnarled wood door. The Vine took its name seriously when it came to the décor. Knotted branches framed the windows and wound along the glass display counters
“Is it true you’ve bought Hollow House from George Hollow?” Lily called out loudly to be heard above the hissing machine. “Will you keep it as an inn, or make it your primary residence?”
My lips twitched. Primary residence? As opposed to what? All the other residences I’d accumulated on my road to fame? “You do know I ran off to Broadway, not Hollywood, right?”
She threw me a ‘so what?’ look over her shoulder.
The money side of Broadway sucked, that was what. Well, unless you were some rich and famous big screen star slumming it in the name of art. I guessed they did okay.
I would have enlightened her on the economic inequalities of my chosen profession, but I had a rumor to nip in the bud.
“Actually,” I told Lily, “you were right the first time, I’m just visiting. And I only invested a tiny amount in Hollow House, a couple of shares, that kind of thing. Mr Hollow still owns the place lock, stock and—” sinking “—barrel.”
Lily placed the two take-out coffees on the counter and leaned across, her voice dropping to a whisper as her eyes widened on me. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but it’s awful about Ms Daggon, isn’t it?”
I wasn’t surprised she’d already heard. Bad news traveled faster than the sound of thunder in Silver Firs. I was worried she hadn’t listened carefully enough to my detailed explanation. “Absolutely awful, but about Hollow House, you should know I didn’t buy—”
“Yes, you said, but did you really find her in the kitchen when you came down this morning?” Lily grabbed a flat-pack container and boxed it for the selection of cupcakes. “What a horrible thing to wake up to, even if it was Ms Daggon. What was she doing when you found her?”
I scratched the corner of my eye. “Um, she was, you know…?”
Lily’s brows perked expectantly.
“Dead,” I spelled out.
“Oh, yes, but I mean before,” she said as she filled the box with pieces of frosted and sprinkled heaven. “I read once about a woman who tripped while emptying the dishwasher and skewered herself on a carving knife, can you believe it?”
She shuddered and slid the cupcake box next to the coffees.
I reached into my back pocket for cash while Lily rang it up, only she didn’t. She folded her arms on the counter, looking at me, waiting.
Oh.
“What was Ms Daggon doing?” I frowned quizzically, my best impression of thinking real hard, and reached back again for my phone and held it up apologetically. “Sorry, I should probably get this.”
“Did it go off?”
“Buzzed, the volume’s turned down,” I assured her, deftly turning the phone on.
Born and raised in Silver Firs, I could gossip with the best of them, and I didn’t know why this felt wrong, only that it did. I disliked the woman intensely, but I didn’t want to pick apart Ms Daggon’s last minutes either.
Maybe it was all that venting I’d done this morning before her corpse was even cold. What was the matter with me? I was no angel, but I believed in reserving a little respect for the dead whether they deserved it or not.
Lily was still watching me with those rounded blue eyes, so I put the phone to my ear and engaged in a vivid catch-up with my city friend Patricia whose basset hound was littering pups even as we spoke.
Did I know any Patricia?
Of course not, that’s just how good I was and a minute later I was walking down Main Road, phone hooked between my ear and shoulder, coffees balanced precariously on the lid of the cupcake box.
I cut through the small playground on the corner of Birch and Main and crossed the road to The Vine, where I had to butt-bump my way through the gnarled wood door. The Vine took its name seriously when it came to the décor. Knotted branches framed the windows and wound along the glass display counters
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