It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Homicide by Leighann Dobbs

Author:Leighann Dobbs
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Leighann Dobbs

CHAPTER 14

I loaded the ledgers and permit forms into my truck and headed to the town hall. Could those ripped-up-check pieces have been from Benjamin Thornton?

He’d been persistent in trying to get Ivy to sell. I chuckled, picturing Aunt Ivy ripping up his check and throwing the pieces at him. My laughter was cut off as another image flashed in my mind—Benjamin Thornton, red-faced with fury, hurling Aunt Ivy down the stairs. But wait—Eliot had said he’d seen them in the kitchen. Why would Thornton have gone upstairs with Ivy?

I arrived at the town hall and dragged the ledgers out of my car. I barely noticed the festive decor in the grand entrance and quickly followed the maze of hallways to the permitting offices.

Simon’s door was firmly closed. A helpful lady at a neighboring desk, wearing a smile as bright as her flowery blouse, looked up as I approached.

“Can I assist you, dear?” she chirped.

“I filled out some permitting forms for the Yule Drop Inn. I was going to return them to Simon.” I glanced at his door.

“Oh, he’s taken a few days off, but I can help you.”

I handed over the forms. “And the mouse problem is taken care of, so you can remove that from your database.”

“Mice?” The lady behind the desk peered at her screen, her glasses perched precariously on her nose. “There’s nothing about rodents here.”

My mind raced. Simon had mentioned contamination of the four-footed variety. Mice? No, wait—could he have meant Prancer? But Aunt Ivy was keeping him a secret to surprise Agnes, Doris, and Betty. Only a few people knew about Prancer, including… the killer.

If there was nothing about rodents in the database, then I certainly didn’t want something added.

“Did I say mice? I must have gotten confused. There are no mice.” I crossed my fingers behind my back. Technically, I didn’t have mice anymore, anyway.

She looked at me, perplexed but amused.

My mind was racing with images of Simon pushing Ivy down the stairs and writing those ominous notes. If only I could get a look at his handwriting. Maybe he signed some of the forms.

“How long until I can open? Is there a procedure or something? Will I get a copy of the signed forms?”

“We’ll need a check, of course,” she replied, typing away.

“Of course,” I echoed, my mind still racing with possibilities.

“And then I would say, in a couple of days, you’ll be good to go. Everything is set up from your aunt, so there’s just a lot of name changing and so forth.” She looked up at me with genuine sympathy. “I’m very sorry for your loss. Ivy was a good old gal.”

I smiled and nodded, touched by her kindness. “Thanks. You’ll let me know when I can open?”

“Let me just make sure I have your number,” she said, reaching for a pen.

I gave her my phone number, my mind still reeling from the new clue as I tried to get a better look at the forms on her desk to see if I could see Simon’s signature.

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