Murder on Old Main Street (Kate Lawrence Mysteries) by Ivie Judith

Author:Ivie, Judith [Ivie, Judith]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Mainly Murder Press, LLC
Published: 2010-09-01T05:00:00+00:00

Eight

At 10:30 sharp, I drove up in front of Will and Janet Copeland’s house, which stood next to the old Wheeler residence on Wolcott Hill Road. The street was an interesting one to a realtor and probably to anyone else who had occasion to view its entire length. It extended south from the Hartford border to its terminus at Prospect Street, which fairly accurately bisected Wethersfield from east to west. One of the main thoroughfares in the older part of town, it had evolved over the years into a pleasing microcosm of the evolution of the town itself. Victorians, such as the Wheeler house, sat next to post-World War II frame residences, such as the Copelands’, which in turn enjoyed a ‘60s bungalow as its neighbor on the other side.

The pleasant jumble of building periods and styles was knit together by well-tended lawns and gardens of every shape and size, which spilled over with spider mums, kale, ornamental cabbages, and asters. Their vivid colors were set off by backdrops of thistle and decorative grasses. In this part of town, driveways were edged, and even the foundation plantings were weeded regularly. It all looked perfectly lovely, hardly what one would expect of a murder scene. But then, it wasn’t a murder scene, as far as we knew. It was merely the former home of a murder victim.

I enjoyed the morning as I waited for Margo to join me, knowing that a hard frost or two would put an end to the blooms, for the most part. Many of the perennials in the borders had already been cut back and mulched for the winter, and although the chrysanthemums made a brave display, they weren’t nearly as hardy as most people thought. It wouldn’t be long before we were compelled to settle into the drabness of November, to be followed by the white winter. Each season had a charm of its own, to be sure, but autumn was my favorite. At least it had been until this whole business with Prudy had cast suspicion on friends, colleagues, and even my own daughter.

Impatiently, I checked my watch again. The sooner we found those diaries, the better, so where in blazes was Margo?

Right on cue, Margo slid the BMW in behind me at the curb and climbed out, yawning widely. She carried a cardboard tray with two super-sized Dunkin Donuts coffees in it. Though dressed casually, for her, in denim capris and a navy big shirt with a white tank top underneath, she was as immaculately groomed as always. I wondered yet again how she always managed to look pulled together. My own jeans pouched badly at the knees, and I had barely taken the time to swipe on lipstick and mascara.

“Sorry I was late, Sugar, but I had to drop Rhett off at his pen behind the office and pick us up some caffeine, if I’m goin’ to be of any use at all today.”

She yawned again, and I noticed the dark smudges beneath her eyes.

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