Murder With a Side of Bacon: An Ivy Clark Mystery (Ivy Clark Mysteries Book 1) by Kristy T Dixon

Author:Kristy T Dixon [Dixon, Kristy T]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Meegore Publishing LLC
Published: 2024-09-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

During a lull the following morning, I slipped out of the diner to go talk to Sally. I got in Rob’s car and drove out of town. I really liked this car. With the push of a button, I could ask it where things were, and it would tell me. Internet was spotty around town, but it was still nice. I’d had to google how to open the gas cap, but thankfully, no one was around to see that.

Tania’s phone password was beyond me. I’d tried to break into it after my shower this morning, but I didn’t know where to start. After a few failed attempts, it had locked me out.

I pulled up to the first house after Rob’s. It reminded me of a cottage from a storybook. It was bright yellow with white trim. The yard was full of rose bushes and lilac trees. I hopped out of the car and walked up the curvy brick walkway. I pushed down my nerves and knocked firmly on the door.

A woman with a messy brown braid peeked out. “Yes?”

I tried to give her a friendly smile. “Hello. I’m here to see Sally Peterson.”

The woman narrowed her eyes. “Who are you?”

“Are you Sally Peterson?”

“No.”

I kept my smile. “Then I’m not here to see you.” I was sure it sounded rude, but I didn’t want to explain myself to everyone. I was nervous enough as it was.

The woman’s blue eyes flashed with anger, but she just turned and said, “Mother, there is someone to see you.”

“Well, send them in,” a woman called back.

The daughter held open the door and motioned for me to enter. I went in and followed her into a sitting room. Sally Peterson sat in a rocking chair. Her appearance surprised me. From what I’d been told, she was probably around my mother’s age, but she looked a good twenty years older. Her hair was almost completely white and a little greasy, hanging to her shoulders. A girl about eight sat on a loveseat holding an iPad and twisting a piece of long brown hair around her finger. She had neon-green glasses, and she was frowning at me.

“Well, sit down and tell me who you are,” Sally said, pointing at a sofa. I sat down, and Sally’s daughter sat by the little girl.

I cleared my throat, and the little girl made a disgusted face. “Gross, Mom. She’s spreading her germs.” Her mom just stared at me.

“I’m not sick. I was clearing my throat,” I said lamely. The girl turned up her nose and moved her legs so they were angled away from me.

“What do you want?” Sally asked.

“I’m Ivy Clark. Rob was my uncle.”

Sally’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you at my house? I don’t want any of Rob’s ridiculous relatives here.”

“I heard you came to help after Linda’s accident,” the daughter said.

“Shush, Darcy,” Sally said. “No one is talking to you.”

Darcy put her arm over her daughter’s shoulders and slumped back. Darcy didn’t look a lot older than me, but she looked worn down.

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