A Dear Abby Cozy Mystery Collection Books 1 - 3: End of the Lane, Be Still My Heart and The Last Ride by Sonia Parin

A Dear Abby Cozy Mystery Collection Books 1 - 3: End of the Lane, Be Still My Heart and The Last Ride by Sonia Parin

Author:Sonia Parin [Parin, Sonia]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2018-10-22T16:00:00+00:00


“What do you think? Did we just witness the best performance ever? I’m sure I saw the edge of Kitty’s lip kick up.” At least now she knew Joshua had stepped up his investigation. Who would he interview next? He’d already had a chat with Miranda’s husband and cousin. “So who could be next on his person of interest list?” she asked as she strode into the Gazette.

Faith looked up and shook her head. “Have you picked up a new habit of talking to yourself in public?”

“People don’t seem to notice.” Abby picked up the mail.

Faith laughed. “Wait until you’re older with gray hair and stooped shoulders. They’ll notice then and call your behavior odd.”

“By then it won’t matter because I’ll be too senile to care.” Abby set down the mail and looked up. “Actually, now that I sort of think about it, I’ve always looked up to my elders, but there were a few I tended to steer clear of. Mrs. Hattie comes to mind. She was a neighbor who lived across the street from us. She’d invite people over for afternoon tea and then refuse to let them in. People were too polite to turn her down, so every week we’d see them trudging up to her front door. Some brought cake and cookies and left them on the front porch. And now that I really think about it, maybe Mrs. Hattie just wanted to get free cake and cookies.”

Faith frowned at her. “What is your point?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe I’m trying to say that whatever I do, I’ll end up old and gray haired with an abundant supply of cookies. So it doesn’t really matter.” Abby frowned at the mail. “Do you always get so much mail?”

“Oh!” Faith jumped to her feet and rounded her desk. “I nearly forgot. You’ve got mail.” She handed Abby a stack of envelopes. “I went ahead and opened them.”

Abby picked one up and read, “Dear Abby?”

“Yes. I can understand getting one, but there are at least a dozen all addressed to Dear Abby.”

“How? Why?”

“Who knows? But I think we can work that into the next issue. You could do a Dear Abby column.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s an obvious demand for it. I think it has to do with you solving Dermot’s death. People see you as the go to person. You know, like the Godfather. What should I take on vacation? Leave the gun, take the cannoli. What day of the week is it? Monday, Tuesday—”

“Yes, yes. I get it, but… Why? Getting it right one time isn’t enough to establish me as the new oracle in town.”

“There’s an idea. Instead of a Dear Abby column, you could do ‘Ask the Oracle.’ Everyone could come to you for all their problems and you could solve them.”

Abby sunk down on her chair. “And why would I do that?”

“Think of it as doing a community service. This isn’t the city where people have access to a large network. There are people living out in isolated



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