Memories Can Be Murder by Connie Shelton

Author:Connie Shelton
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: detective, mystery, cozy, New Mexico, women sleuths
ISBN: 9781453671948
Publisher: CreateSpace
Published: 2010-07-18T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

"Sweetpea? It's Apple Pie."

"Hannah? What is it?" I dragged myself from a deep sleep and rolled over to see my digital clock. Eight-thirty.

"Sweetpea, I think the story's breaking," Hannah continued.

"Why? What's happening?" I looked over to Drake's side of the bed but it was empty, the covers pulled smoothly up to the pillow. "Hannah? What story?"

"Well, I had a call from George Myers this morning," she whispered.

"Is he there? Or did he just call?"

"Oh, no, he called on the telephone. Guess I don't need to whisper then, do I?" She giggled.

"I don't think so," I told her. "What did he call about?"

"Well, it was real early, probably about seven because the children next door were waiting on the curb for the school bus and it's usually here by seven fifteen, and so I know it was before that."

"And what about George?" I prompted.

"Yes, well George called and asked if I remembered him, and of course I did, but I didn't tell him that I'd just talked to you a few days ago. So I got him to explain who he was and why he was calling. Don't you think that was clever? That way I didn't give away that I already knew why he was calling?"

"Yes, Hannah, that was clever," I worked to keep the sigh out of my voice.

"So anyway, he made out like he'd had the idea to look into that plane crash and he wondered if I had any old papers or documents or clippings or anything like that. Little skunk, he thought he'd take credit for finding them himself, I'll bet.

"Well, I didn't tell him anything. Didn't even admit that I'd kept the newspaper clippings about the crash. Let him go to the paper and find that stuff himself, I say."

"That was smart, Hannah. You just keep quiet and play like you don't know anything." I didn't want to tell her that her life probably depended on it. I hung up the phone feeling a heavy weight of responsibility.

I took a fast hot shower, brushed my hair into a ponytail, and pulled on jeans and a T-shirt before scouting around to locate Drake and Rusty. Padding through the house in my socks, I realized there seemed to be a bit of a commotion in the front yard.

A glance out the living room window showed a large truck backed into our driveway. Rusty raced around the lawn in circles and several neighbors stood in a clump on the sidewalk. I stuffed my feet into running shoes and pulled a denim jacket from the coat hook.

Drake greeted me as I emerged into the excitement. "Hey, hon," he said with a kiss for me. "Look—my truck is here!"

Sure enough, the truck driver was in the process of closing the back doors of his rig and Drake's shiny little pickup sat in the driveway.

"I moved your Jeep out to the curb so this guy'd have room to pull in," Drake told me, handing me my keys.

"Looks like this is the big news of the day," I smiled.

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