The Murder of Sleepy Hollow by Michele PW (Pariza Wacek)

Author:Michele PW (Pariza Wacek) [PW (Pariza Wacek), Michele]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Love-Based Publishing
Published: 2022-10-27T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

“Have you seen the paper today?” Pat asked the moment I picked up the phone.

“Not yet,” I yawned. I had overslept and was still groggy. Finally, I had gotten a decent night’s sleep. I tucked the phone between my ear and shoulder as I turned on the stove and moved the tea kettle over. Midnight wound himself around my ankles, reminding me that along with being late with my tea, I was late with his breakfast.

“What, did I wake you?”

“No, I was up,” I said. “Barely, but I was up.”

Pat’s question was ping-ponging in my brain. Whatever she was referring to in the paper should be important, but my brain was too fuzzy and thick with sleep to figure it out.

“Do you have tea?”

“Getting there.” I opened one of the cabinets to fish out my teapot. “Are you angling for an invitation?”

“Once you see what’s in the paper, you’ll want me there,” Pat said. “I’ll be right over.”

I hung up the phone and went to check on the bakery goods I had on hand. I knew I still had muffins for sure, and I thought there might be some banana bread, as well …

I froze. Have you seen the paper today?

Oh no. Tad. He had called me for a quote. I had just about forgotten about him, having been so consumed with David and Louise.

He must have printed something dreadful. Crap. I figured I’d better go see.

I hurried out of the kitchen, ignoring Midnight’s surprised and none-too-happy meow, and over to the front door. I shoved my feet into a pair of tennis shoes, although I didn’t bother to tie them, and headed out to fetch the paper.

There was a bite to the air that cut through the thin sweatshirt I had tossed over my sleeping outfit. I crossed my arms across my chest and half-jogged to the bottom of the driveway. At least the cold air helped clear the fog out of my brain. I had a feeling I was going to need a clear head.

It was too cold to unroll the paper outside, and by the time I got inside, the tea kettle was singing, and Midnight was sitting impatiently at the kitchen door, his tail twitching as his emerald-green eyes bored into me.

By the time I got the tea brewing and Midnight fed, I figured Pat would be by in a minute or two, so I might as well put out the muffins, the last couple of pieces of banana bread, and a plate of homemade dog biscuits for Tiki. I had the table set when I heard the front door open.

“In the kitchen,” I called out.

“I wouldn’t imagine you were anywhere else,” Pat said as Tiki came running in to greet me, nails clicking on the tile floor. “No jack-o’-lantern, I see. Or did you throw it away?”

“No, not today, at least,” I said, realizing I had been so preoccupied with whatever lies Tad likely printed about me that I had forgotten about the jack-o’-lanterns.

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