Hems & Homicide by Elizabeth Penney

Author:Elizabeth Penney
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

CHAPTER 17

I squinted at the message, shook my head and read it again. It still said the same thing. I checked the sender. Not a number I recognized.

“What’s the matter?” Grammie asked. She set a mug of milk beside my elbow. “You get one of those sexts?”

Milk spewed from my mouth onto the counter. “Eww. No.” I used a napkin to wipe up the mess. “But I did get a strange message. Here, take a look.”

Pursing her lips, she studied the message. “Hmm. What are they talking about? The fact that Elliot is dead?”

I picked up the mug again and took another sip, gathering my thoughts. “Maybe. If it’s the same person, then it sounds like they blamed Elliot for Star’s death. Now he’s dead, so case closed.”

She tapped a finger on the countertop. “But in that case, they should have left it alone. Justice is done, period. This makes me wonder which dogs need to be woken up.”

Quincy was napping on the adjacent stool, and at the word dog, his head popped up. I rubbed his chin. “No dogs here, Quince.” To Grammie, I said, “That’s a good point. I suppose it could be a second mysterious messenger, in which case, maybe they thought Elliot should die for another reason. Like his nefarious business dealings.” I loved that word, nefarious. “Or getting involved with Charlotte. If he was.”

Grammie wrinkled her nose. “Eww, right back at you. I never understood why he acted like such a fool. Not only is Nancy brilliant and beautiful, she had all the money. The Parkers burned through theirs generations ago.”

“Yeah, he’d be dumb to mess that up.” Elliot might be descended from one of the town’s founding families, but he was basically a big idiot, as well as sleazy and no doubt crooked. Had been, I meant to say. I still wasn’t used to the fact that he was gone. Someone else would be collecting our rent from now on. If we opened the store.

Anxiety started to grind in my belly again, and I drank some hot milk to try and smother it. Milk was good for ulcers, right?

“Okay,” I said, taking back the phone. “I’m forwarding this text to Anton. Maybe their tech department can trace it to the sender.”

Grammie shook her head. “Doubt it. Probably one of those burner phones.” At my look of surprise, she added, “That’s what I’d do. Who would use their real phone?”

“Good point.” I put the phone aside. “After I finish my milk, I’m heading to bed. Busy day tomorrow.” Even though we couldn’t get into the building, I still had plenty on my to-do list. Going to see Ted. Painting the shelving. Following up on threatening messages with the police chief. Just an ordinary day in Blueberry Cove.

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