An Angel for Dry Creek by Janet Tronstad

Author:Janet Tronstad
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Steeple Hill
Published: 1999-10-12T04:00:00+00:00

It was midmorning before Glory relaxed her fingers. She was holding her sketch pencil too tight, as though she could force some memory out through her fingers. At first her fingers had been too cold to sketch, but Matthew had taken a pair of women’s knit gloves off the shelf and cut the fingers out of them. That kept her hands warm while letting her fingers be free.

“You remember the clock?” Elmer had walked over to where she sat with her sketch pad.

“I remember everything,” Glory said as she set her fifth sketch aside. Matthew had fixed up a table for her to work at. By now it was covered with sketches.

“Not quite everything,” Elmer said as he looked closely at the sketch she had made of the manager lying on the floor, a bullet through his stomach and the things in his hands scattered. The time card was halfway out of the dead man’s pocket. The package of steaks was near his left shoulder.

“What do you mean?”

“That.” Elmer pointed at the sketch. “On that package of steaks. That isn’t packed right. A T-bone and a cube together. Who’d do that?”

Glory looked at the sketch. She must have made a mistake. Odd, though.

A harsh scraping sound from the storeroom distracted them.

“Matthew.” Glory had told Matthew she would help him move any stock he needed to relocate. Elmer had told him the same thing. Even Jacob had appeared eager to pitch in and help. “Stubborn man.”

“Found the garland,” Matthew announced triumphantly as he hobbled into the main part of the store. A trail of gold-and-white garland followed him and he had a cape of garland wrapped around his shoulders.

“You risked falling to get some garland?”

Matthew grinned. “I didn’t know you cared if I fell.”

“Of course I care if you fall,” Glory said softly. The fool man. “I’m the one that has to pick you up and get you to the clinic.”

Matthew’s grin disappeared. “Did I ever thank you for that?”

The bell over the door rang. Glory looked up in time to see the deputy sheriff, Carl Wall, walk into the store.

Glory bit back her groan.

“Expected everyone to be out working on the pageant,” the deputy said. He looked slowly around the store and his eyes rested on Glory’s worktable. He walked over and picked up one of her sketches of the victim after the shooting. “Hmm, not exactly scenery.” He looked at Glory.

Glory was leaning against the counter. “I told you I worked for the police.”

The deputy grunted. “Maybe you do, at that.”

“Want some coffee?” Matthew offered. “You public officials never seem to take time for breaks.”

“Some folks say all we do is sit around drinking coffee and eating doughnuts.”

“Well, I’m not one of them,” Matthew said staunchly. “You have a lot to do making sure there are no undesirables coming into town.”

Carl Wall looked puzzled. “I thought you were on the side of the angel.”

“The angel—no, no, I don’t mean her. I mean any undesirables asking about her.”

“Who’d be asking about her?”

“I don’t know.

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