Little Treasures by Ladies' Killing Circle

Author:Ladies' Killing Circle
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: crime, suspense, mystery, anthology, short stories, thrillers, cozies, ladies killing circle
Publisher: Ladies' Killing Circle

Vicki Cameron writes short stories [Clue Mysteries, More Clue Mysteries, Ladies’ Killing Circle, Storyteller Magazine], young adult novels [Shillings, That Kind of Money], and ESL picture books [Mary and her Bucket]. Her stories have been nominated for the Edgar and the Arthur Ellis. Follow Vicki’s adventures on 40for40years.wordpress

Or at her Facebook page.

THERE GOES THE NEIGHBOURHOOD

by

Linda Wiken

She just appeared one day, out of nowhere, or so it seemed.

"Hi, I'm your new neighbour. Christa Morgan."

I gave the topsoil around the newly planted azalea a final firm pat and looked up at the visitor, shading my eyes from the glare of the sun.

Her legs seemed to go on forever. Not an auspicious introduction to my 5-foot-2 frame.

"Hi, I'm Carolyn Brooks," I acknowledged, managing to stand up without the usual cracking of bones.

I still had to look up for a view of her face. Deep, blue eyes obviously enhanced by contacts. Flawless skin, probably coaxed by daily Estee Lauder routines. Thick, long auburn hair, which had to have help to reach that shade. I'd keep an eye on the roots over the next while, to be sure.

"Welcome to Lake McGregor," I managed to get out. "When did you move in?"

"On the weekend."

That explained my missing the action. We'd been visiting friends in Oakville through Sunday.

"Sorry, to interrupt your gardening," she went on, "but I thought it might be a good time to introduce myself."

"That's okay. This is my only effort at outdoor work and I've just finished. The bush was a birthday present from my husband."

"Oh. Happy birthday. Azalea, isn't it? He must be quite a romantic."

I hadn't thought of Doug as such, but she could be right. I invited her for a glass of iced tea, hoping to pump her for her life story, but she had to get back. She did say she painted for a hobby and had been letting the wash on the canvas dry. Time to move to phase two. I watched her svelte body weave through the overgrown path between our two places and vowed to resume my abandoned race-walking program that very day.

***

I quizzed Doug about her that evening as we sat with our tea on the back deck.

"Really, the only thing I heard from the agent was she's single, has a government job in town, and likes solitude."

"So, why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged. "I guess it slipped my mind. You know there's only one person around this lake who draws my attention." He reached over and squeezed my hand.

A romantic, indeed.

I filled him in on our short encounter and wondered aloud why an attractive, single 43-year-old woman would buy a house on a lake by herself? Why would she choose to make the 40-odd-minute drive, twice a day, into Ottawa to her job and back? Especially during the sometimes treacherous winter days that lay ahead.

Maybe it was none of my business, Doug suggested. Ah, but the writer in me couldn't leave it alone. I felt a plot coming on.

I knew our reasons for choosing Lake McGregor well enough.

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