Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Ian fixed our tea while I cooked eggs and we were soon sitting down to breakfast.
He grinned when I uncovered a dish with fried tomatoes and mushrooms, a breakfast dish he grew up on in Scotland.
“I hope I cooked it right,” I said.
He scooped some up on his fork and popped it into his mouth and I waited, feeling like a kid about to receive a grade for a special project.
“Perfect,” he said and scooped a generous amount onto his plate. “Next you’ll be cooking me tattie scones.”
“Is that a hint?”
“A request,” he said. “I love tattie scones.”
“I have no idea what that is, but I’ll find a recipe.”
“I’ll email you one. It’s similar to a potato cake,” he said.
My cell rang when we finished.
“I decided to talk with my dad,” Amy said before I could get out hello.
“When?” I asked, intending to be there.
“Beau suggested a restaurant where he could sit close by, but I don’t think I could eat a bite. Besides, I really want you there.”
“Bring your dad here,” I said as if it was settled. “It’s safe ground.”
“You took a fall, remember?” Amy said.
“I’m good. Besides, I’d want to be a fly on the wall so I could hear what your dad had to say. This way, I don’t have to transform into a fly.”
Amy laughed. “Too bad you didn’t do that when flying out that window.”
I cringed, recalling the fall. “My superpowers failed me.”
“Are you sure about this?” Amy asked.
“Most definitely,” I assured her.
“Thanks, Pepper, you’re the best friend ever and I really appreciate it.”
“Don’t get all sloppy sentimental on me or you’ll have me crying and that will only hurt my bruised eyes.”
Amy laughed this time. “Tears won’t bother your bruises. How are they anyway?”
“Ian says they’re not as purple. So, when do you want to do this?” I asked.
“I need to gather more courage. How about Thursday?”
“How about Tuesday?” I countered.
“That’s tomorrow.”
“Someone once told me that it’s easier to rip the bandage off quick before she yanked it off my knee,” I reminded.
“I knew you’d get me for that someday.” Amy laughed again and I was glad to hear it. “I’ll let Beau know and we’ll bring wine.”
“Which you will have only one glass until after you finish talking with him,” I instructed.
“Yes, ma’am,” Amy said. “I’ve got to go, work calls. I’ll talk with you later.”
“I’ll clean up here. You go do what you need to do, then we can sit and see about connecting the dots in this murder,” Ian said.
I went to kiss him and hit my nose with his and cringed. He did as well, for me, not for himself.
“You’ve got to be careful, Pep. I don’t want to see you in any more pain,” he said and gently kissed me.
“Real pain is not having you around,” I said, and hearing myself, shook my head. “That sounds like a line in a romance novel.”
“Or,” Ian said with a smile that would melt any woman’s heart, “it sounds like something someone would say to the person they love.”
“I’m getting better at this romance stuff,” I said proudly and strutted off to my office.
11
Ian and I sat at the kitchen island looking at the timeline we had put together from newspaper articles, my dad’s notes, and talks I had with my dad about the case through the years.
“Rita’s body was found just beyond the border of Willow Lake Lodge’s property, yet Travis and the unknown woman he was buried with were found deeper into the woods of the lodge’s property.” Ian scratched his head. “Why? And how busy was the lodge at that time?”
“My guess would be that the murderer wanted Rita’s death blamed on Travis to deflect any chance he could be blamed for it,” I said. “That’s a good question about the lodge. We’ll see if we can find any records your uncle might have kept from that time.”
“If someone wanted the murder blamed on Travis, then there’s a chance the murderer could be a local, someone known to many, someone who had to see the murder blamed on someone else if he wanted to continue to live in Willow Lake,” Ian said.
“It would seem probable. But what about the woman found beneath Travis? Who is she and how does she connect to this?”
Ian pointed to a name on the computer screen. “I think we should focus on the day of the murder. Find out everyone’s movements and see if it reveals anything.”
I brought up my dad’s notes, Amy had put them into an easy-to-read file on the computer. Not only had she arranged them by dates, but she had also made separate files for specific people. I started with the one marked Rita.
Ian read me things about Rita from the newspaper articles and I added them to Rita’s file.