Going Through the Notions (A Deadly Notions Mystery) by Price Cate

Author:Price, Cate [Price, Cate]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2013-09-02T16:00:00+00:00

“On the way home, I decided to stop at the Perkins Feed Supply Store. Sarah was already pissed off at having to watch Sometimes a Great Notion. What difference would another half an hour make?

The business was right on Sheepville Pike, which was zoned commercial. Down a long driveway behind it was their house and surrounding farmland.

I’d heard Patsy’s dire warnings about the Perkins boys, but this was a retail business on a main thoroughfare where they served the public. I’d be perfectly safe. Hey, I’d faced up to Fiona Adams today and survived. Besides, I needed to check them out for myself.

But what excuse would I give for being here? I know, I could say I’d come to buy dog food for Jasper. In addition to cattle feed, a sign outside said they also sold bags of dog, cat, and rabbit food.

When I got out of the car, the oppressive heat was like a hand shoving me in the chest.

God, it was hot today.

The store was deserted except for one bored-looking girl at the register, who didn’t look up when I opened the glass and chrome door. The place smelled of fertilizer and sawdust inside. I stepped out into the heat again and wandered around to the back parking lot, past a forklift truck, and over to a huge shed.

I peeked into the shadowed interior. A young man stripped to the waist was perched atop a pile of feed sacks, throwing them up onto a shelf near the rafters. They must have weighed at least fifty pounds each, but he tossed them around like packets of potato chips.

He gave no sign of noticing me in the doorway. His tanned back gleamed with sweat, and I stood transfixed for a moment, watching the smooth muscles work together in perfect unison.

Another man sauntered across the lot toward me, holding a plastic cup. He looked to be slightly older than the first one by a couple of years. He was also bare-chested, furry-chested actually, with a pelt that narrowed to a dark brown line that disappeared under the edge of his belt. Like his sibling, he was all finely toned flesh, the ridged stomach evidence of a life spent outside doing physical labor.

“Can we help you, Mrs. Buchanan?”

“Oh!” My laugh sounded nervous, even to me. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

He didn’t answer, but tipped the cup up to his lips, took a mouthful of whatever was inside, and chewed. His dark eyes regarded me, sullen and angry. If he’d been a dog, he wasn’t wagging his tail.

The younger, blonder brother slid down off the pallet of feed sacks and came over to us. “I’m Bobby Perkins and this here’s Tom. What can we do for you?”

“Well, the reason I’m here is—”

Tom Perkins spat a few hulls onto the ground, one by one. Sunflower seeds. “You’re the lady who’s friends with Angus Backstead, right?”

I nodded, wary.

“He’s the bastard who bought our grandmother’s estate.

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