Murder on Holiday Lane by London Lovett

Author:London Lovett [Lovett, London]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wild Fox Press

Chapter Eighteen

"Today of all days, it decided to be winter." I pulled my wool coat shut tighter around me and double checked that my bucket hat was secure and low enough to keep my ears warm.

"At least it's not raining." Kellan had to speak loudly over the rumble of the motor and the wind blowing around the open car. He lifted his hand from its grip on the steering wheel just long enough to point ahead. "Looks like it's bright and sunny at the beach, even if it is a little nippy." He was dressed in his old coat. The fabric was worn thin in spots and both elbows had been patched. I had considered buying him a new coat for Christmas but then worried he might take offense. He seemed to love his old coat, like it was an old reliable friend. I'd opted for a nice wool scarf and driving gloves instead. They had set me back a pretty penny. Now that he was doing me such a huge favor, driving me first to the studio and this morning to the beach, I was glad I put aside extra for his gift.

My fingers were wrapped in gloves, but they were still cold from holding together my coat. "You really should get the top fixed on this car. Eventually, it will rain, and you won't be able to drive it."

"That's occurred to me, but I've got rain gear that I use at the service station. I can just wrap myself up in my rubber coat and hat. It'll be fine. I checked out a price on a new top. It'll cost more than the whole car."

"Then I guess it's a good thing you live in sunny California."

He pressed his fedora lower on his head. "Sure is. I've shoveled snow off the walkway but never out of a car. Can't be easy."

I laughed. "We could build a snowman right here on the front seat. He could be your passenger." I turned my head toward him, taking care not to let my hat fly off. "I so want to build a snowman and make a snow angel and throw a snow ball and—"

"And shovel walkways, slip on icy roadways, turn your fingers and toes into blue ice cubes . . ."

"See, you make it all sound so romantic," I said wryly. "Speaking of romantic, I packed up some of Mrs. Dewberry's snickerdoodles for our picnic. They are superb."

Kellan rubbed his stomach. "I could eat that picnic soon."

I squinted ahead. "That sign says Pacific Highway. Turn right. According to Wyatt, the house is on the beach side just a few miles after the turn."

The car slowed suddenly as if it was dragging a load of bricks. Kellan bit his lip with concern. He leaned his head to the side as if listening for something. "I don't hear anything rattling that shouldn't be rattling. Might just be a little overheated. I haven't taken it on such a long drive before."

"I didn't realize. Do you think it'll be all right? We still have a long way to go back home.

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