Stranded by Lorena McCourtney

Author:Lorena McCourtney
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Revell
Published: 2006-09-30T16:00:00+00:00

A big storm blew in on Saturday, and the ladies at the Historical Society decided to close at noon. Heavy white flakes were coming down like an overturned bucket of snow cones by then, but in spite of the weather I was surprised when Doris Hammerstone offered me a ride home. She’d never shown any sign of helpfulness before.

“Why, thank you. I’d appreciate that very much.”

I helped Doris with her coat and steadied her going down the front steps, where three inches of snow had already accumulated. But once we were in her car, the situation changed. Doris might be tiny and bent over, and the streets might be slippery with snow, but she wheeled that big old Lincoln around as if we were in tryouts for the Indy 500. I gulped and clutched the seat belt as we squirreled around corners, barreled up the hill, and finally skidded into the driveway at the McLeod house.

Doris seemed unruffled by the fact that we’d barely missed the hedge around the yard. “I do like a car with power,” she said, her tone complacent.

I hastily gathered my gloves and purse and wits, relieved to be home in one piece. I put my hand on the door handle, but she seemed in no hurry to rush off. She leaned forward and peered up at the third floor of the tower, where the raw blotch of plywood was faintly visible through the wind-driven blur of snow.

“That’s where Hiram fell?”

“Yes. He landed on the brick walkway below. No one seems to know why he and whoever killed him were up there.” I wanted to hear her thoughts on this, but I didn’t want to let on that I knew she and Hiram had once been married, in case that was a touchy subject. So, in what I hoped was a discreet way, I added, “Have you ever been up there?” as if I thought she may have been a guest there sometime.

She skidded around my tactfulness the same way she’d skidded around street corners. “You mean up there to push Hiram out the window?” she snapped.

“Well, uh . . .”

“Or up there back when he and I were married? Because someone told you we were married, didn’t they? Who was it? Lucinda?”

I dodged the question, not about to admit she was correct about Lucinda. “I’m sure no one thinks that you—”

“You don’t have to murder someone personally, you know. You can hire a killer. I could have done that.”

I had to make an effort to keep my mouth from dropping open at this surprise suggestion. But I managed to say, “Did you?”

“No, I didn’t kill him, either personally or hired.” She sounded a little cross about it. “Though, if I’d thought of it, I might have back when Hiram and I were married. I certainly had reason enough.” She leaned back, her momentary flash of spirit seeming to fizzle. The car was cooling rapidly, our breaths already clouding the windows.

I waited, hoping she’d elaborate, but

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