A Load of Trouble: Washy Time Laundromat Cozy Mystery by Kathryn Mykel

Author:Kathryn Mykel [Mykel, Kathryn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-09-28T16:00:00+00:00

After striking out at the two local thrift shops, Reruns and Vintage Advantage, Matty pulled into the parking lot of the historical society. She picked up her notepad and clipped the pen inside the metal rings. Stepping out of the car, she was hit with the distinctive scent of iris that made her think of a funeral. Yuck, I hate that smell—funerals and hospitals.

Walking up the long ramp to the front door of the cape-style house built in 1778—per the placard—she noticed they had redone the ramp since last she was there. The new pressure-treated wood was a statement of obvious contradiction to the aesthetic of the ancient building. How do they get away with having this? No other historical homeowner could add such a modern feature to their home, not if Posey had anything to say about it. Her thoughts ran away from her as she reached for the door, stepping inside the building and into a quaint parlor.

“May I help you?” A young lady greeted Matty at an old-fashioned desk.

“Yes, I’d like to see Posey Thompson. Is she here today?”

Probably high school age, the girl in a ponytail asked, “Do you have an appointment?” Her braces glinted off the exposed overhead lighting.

“No. I’m Matty Bond. She knows my great-aunt, Rhoda Pearl.”

“Let me check and see if Mrs. Thompson is available.”

Wow, Posey Thompson must think she’s the bee’s knees.

The girl picked up the phone receiver and pressed a single button before saying, “Matty Bond is here to see you. Should I send her in?” With a perturbed expression, she ran her hand down the length of her ebony ponytail, twisting it around her finger, and hung up the phone. “Mrs. Thompson will see you now.” She flashed a tight smile and waved her hand toward an open door.

Maybe I should have let Rhoda Pearl handle this after all. Matty entered the office, peering around at stacks of blueprints, piles of drawings, and decorating samples.

Mrs. Thompson rose gracefully from an antique armchair, her short, silver hair neatly coiffed. She wore a floral dress that matched the timeless decor of the room. The soft glow from a fancy lamp illuminated the surroundings.

“Thank you for meeting with me, Mrs. Thompson,” Matty said.

“Please call me Posey. What can I do for you?” Her eyes darted to Matty’s notepad and pen.

“Well, I came here to invite you personally to Aunt Pearl’s 85th birthday party this Sunday.” Matty mentally patted herself on the back for her clever ruse—pretending to extend a social invitation, while her true motive was to extract information.

Posey’s eyes brightened, and she put down her pen. “Oh, how lovely. I appreciate the invitation. Yes, yes, of course.”

She’s genuinely kind. Not at all the husband-stealing, price-raising murderer we made her out to be.

Matty cleared her throat and shifted gears, “Mrs. Thompson, I mean Posey, have you heard anything about the ongoing investigation into Fred’s murder?”

The woman’s brow knitted, and a flicker of sadness crossed her face. “It’s truly devastating. Poor Fred. He was such a kind and generous man.

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