Murder by the Spoonful: An Antique Hunters Mystery by Vicki Vass

Author:Vicki Vass [Vass, Vicki]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Cozy Cat Press
Published: 2015-07-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Six

After a good night’s sleep, they walked over to the adjoining coffee shop, The Moreland Grind. Anne had changed into the flowered pants. “Did you bring any other clothes or is this your new thing?” CC asked.

“These pants are so comfortable.”

The two walked into the coffee shop where they were greeted by MaryAnne, the waitress, a woman in her 60s who apparently ate a lot of free pie. She was holding a pot of coffee and some napkins. “Morning, ladies, would you like a table or a booth?”

“Booth is fine,” Anne said.

“I like your pants,” MaryAnne said, brushing past them, heading towards a booth.

“Hmmp,” CC said as they walked over to the booth and settled in.

MaryAnne fluttered around the tables. For a large woman, she was quite graceful, CC thought. “I think our first stop should be public records or the courthouse so we can track down Jared Whitmore,” CC said. “We can look at public tax records. Maybe stop at the local newspaper and see if there are any articles. Here, I’ve made up a list.” CC pulled a reporter’s notebook out of her purse.

MaryAnne came up to the table as CC was continuing. “I have another idea,” Anne said, turning to MaryAnne. “MaryAnne, we’re looking for Jared Whitmore.”

“Are you friends or family?” MaryAnne said.

“We knew his uncle.”

“What a shame. You know, Tim grew up here. I actually went to high school with him,” MaryAnne said. “He was kind of goofy but nice. You know, once he moved to Chicago we didn’t see him much. He was never quite the same after winning the Powerball.” She paused. “Jared has a place about six miles south of town off of 19.”

“Great, MaryAnne, thank you.”

“Would you like to order now?” MaryAnne said.

After their breakfast arrived, CC pulled a tiny glass jar out of her purse. She sprinkled the hot peppery mix on her scrambled eggs. Noticing Anne’s look, CC said, “It makes everything better.”

“I don’t know how you can eat that,” Anne said. “My eyes are watering over here just smelling it.”

While CC finished her coffee, Anne looked through the classifieds in the local paper. “CC, there’s not much going on here, but there is one thing that sounds interesting.”

“Anne, let’s keep to the plan.” CC finished her coffee, and they headed down 19, a two-lane highway. As they were driving, they spotted a mailbox on the side of a gravel road. Sticking her head out the window, Anne made out the name Whitmore on the mailbox. CC turned down the gravel road that disappeared into the woods. It was a much less pleasant winding road than the one they’d driven to the other Whitmore house. CC had a feeling that Jared Whitmore’s house wasn’t as pleasant either.

The first Do Not Enter sign popped up as they turned a corner. It was full of bullet holes. “Anne, I think this might not be a good idea,” CC said, looking at Anne, who was staring out the window.

The second Do Not Enter sign was crudely made and larger than the first.

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