Waiting Beyond the Veil by Kathryn Meyer Griffith

Author:Kathryn Meyer Griffith
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kathryn Meyer Griffith
Published: 2023-06-09T00:00:00+00:00

ABIGAIL ARRIVED A SHORT while later.

“Sorry I’m late,” she apologized to Glinda as she entered the kitchen. “I had a flat tire and Frank came out, changed it for me. That delayed me some.” She was in the kitchen where Glinda was setting the table for lunch, Myrtle, and Harvey already around the table, and baby Amanda, in her carrier, was holding court in the middle. The baby was smiling and cooing at Harvey, and closely watching a kitten that was scampering around her carrier. The kitten, a tiny black and white fluffball of energy, rubbed up against the baby, and then, getting too close to the edge, fell off the table. Luckily, the furball seemed to be okay, and scurried off into another room.

“That’s okay. We were running late ourselves.” Glinda shoulders rose and fell slightly. “But you timed it perfectly. Lunch is ready now.”

Abigail went straight to the baby and began fussing over her. “She’s grown so much just since I’ve last seen her, Glinda.” The baby was quietly observing them, her eyes a sparkling green so like her mother’s.

Glinda glanced up, smiling. “She has grown a lot, hasn’t she. She’s a good baby, too. Sleeps all night. Doesn’t cry too much...unless she’s wet or hungry.”

“Like all babies.” Abigail could see how content Glinda was. She had this air of fulfillment about her these days, as if having Amanda had given her her fondest wish. Abigail settled down in a chair beside Harvey and started eating the soup in front of her. “That was some séance last week, wasn’t it? Two ghosts, and a murder revealed. So exciting. So...disturbing.”

“It sure was.” Myrtle let out a chuckle. Addressing Abigail, she solicited, “Has Frank found out anything about Bill’s murder, yet?”

“No,” Abigail admitted. “Not yet. It’s still early though. But he’s looking into it.”

“Does he need any help?” Myrtle’s eyes were eager. “I can help, you know. I have the touch.”

“I think he’s on top of it, Myrtle.” Abigail had to fight to keep from grinning. She didn’t want to hurt the old woman’s feelings. Yet the last thing Frank needed was the old sleuth trying to solve another murder. Frank liked to work alone; not put anyone else in the line of fire if things got dicey. Which sometimes they did.

“Darn! I was so ready to play Jessica Fletcher again.” The old lady sulked. Her halo of white hair fuzzy around her head; her blue eyes disappointed.

“Who?” Glinda blurted out.

“You know, Jessica Fletcher...she was in that weekly show Murder, She Wrote? Back in the day? Angela Lansbury played Jessica?”

“Before my time,” Glinda said, “I’m afraid.”

“Well,” Myrtle replied, “Jessica Fletcher, in the show anyway, could always untangle the mystery, solve the problem, and snag the murderer. She was some amateur old biddy detective. Same as with me, no one believed she could out cop the cops, but, by the end of the one-hour show, she always caught her man–or her woman. That Jessica, she was something all right.”

Glinda, also working on finishing her soup, promptly changed the subject, and Abigail was glad she did.

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