Haunting Danielle 27 The Ghost and the Mountain Man Bobbi Holmes (best pdf ebook reader for android .TXT) 📖

a moment, absently chewing his lower lip when he asked, “Um, have you seen my uncle?”

“Yeah, I had breakfast with him. Why?”

“Um, I was looking for him,” Cory lied.

“Isn’t he answering his phone?” Adam asked. “Maybe he’s in the middle of a job and can’t answer. He said something about replacing shingles on one of the rentals.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s it,” Cory said, walking all the way into the office.

Adam frowned at Cory. “Is there something else?”

“Are you friends with the Marlows?”

“Yeah, why?” Adam asked.

“I saw them drive off. I just think they have a really cool car. That thing must be worth a fortune.”

“From what I understand, it used to belong to the original Walt Marlow. It ended up with Ben Smith’s father. Remember Ben?”

Cory shrugged. “Yeah. Old dude who used to work at the museum.”

Adam nodded. “When he died, he left it to Danielle. That girl is always falling into money.”

Thirty-Five

A woman should be able to feel safe in her own home, Pearl Huckabee told herself as she parked her car in the driveway behind her house. But how is one to do that with homicidal neighbors? she asked herself. Pearl turned off the ignition, but instead of getting out of the vehicle, she looked over at Heather Donovan’s house and glared.

This afternoon at her quilting group, the women had been talking about how her neighbor had attacked a woman at the museum. From what they said, Heather had gone berserk and left the place in shambles. No charges were filed, probably because Heather’s boss paid for all the damages with a little something extra to keep Heather out of jail. According to the women in the group, those two had a thing going on.

The next minute headlights pulled up the alley and turned into Heather’s driveway. A back porch light turned on a moment later, enabling Pearl to see the vehicle. It belonged to Officer Henderson. He got out of his car and headed toward the house, not looking Pearl’s way.

“That’s one busy girl,” Pearl muttered. “And dangerous.”

Heather held the door open for Brian as he walked in her back door carrying a paper sack, its contents jingled.

“Thanks for turning the light on for me,” Brian said as Heather shut the door behind him and turned off the outside light.

“Did you say hi to Pearl?” Heather smirked.

“Pearl?” Brian frowned, following Heather into the kitchen.

“Yeah, she pulled into her driveway a few minutes before you got here. She’s just sitting there. I was watching for you so I could turn on the light. Saw her still sitting in her car when you pulled up.”

“Really? I didn’t notice.” Brian handed Heather the sack he had been holding. It jingled again.

“Oh, thanks,” Heather muttered, taking the sack and looking inside. Glass jars—empty pickle jars, jelly jars and mayonnaise jars once destined for the recycle bin filled the sack.

“What do you need all those for?” Brian asked. Before Heather could answer the question, he looked over to the kitchen counter and noticed more than a dozen jars lined up, each filled with something that looked like paste.

“What are you doing?” Brian asked, walking over to the jars.

“Um… well… it’s my sourdough starter,” Heather said, sounding slightly embarrassed.

He counted the jars. “Sixteen? You need sixteen jars of starter? What are you going to do, open a bakery?”

“Yeah, I know it’s lame. But I just thought it was so wasteful to throw half away, like Lily told me to do. So I just figured I would move the discard into another jar, feed it, and then I’d have another jar of starter.”

“That’s why you needed the jars?” Brian asked, glancing at the sack he had handed her.

“Yeah, well,” Heather stammered, looking into the bag. Dejected, she set the sack on the kitchen table and groaned. “I am such an idiot.”

“I wouldn’t say idiot, exactly,” Brian said.

“Do you know how much flour I’ve used, and I haven’t even baked any bread yet?”

“No, how much?”

“I’ve gone through a five-pound bag already and have a second bag opened. And if I feed all the starter I have, I’m going to need more flour.” She groaned again.

Brian laughed and said, “I don’t think this is how it’s done.”

On Sunday morning Pearl hurried down her walkway toward her car, on her way to church. She had forgotten to set her alarm clock the night before and was running late. While unlocking her car, she looked over to Heather’s house and noticed Brian Henderson’s car still parked behind Heather’s house.

She shook her head at the sight and then unlocked her car door when a van came down the alley and turned into Heather’s driveway, parking behind Brian Henderson’s car. When the driver got out of the vehicle, she recognized him. It was Chris Johnson. Pearl paused a minute, looking for Hunny. Yet the pit bull was not with Chris.

“Good morning, Pearl,” Chris called out cheerfully as he made his way up to Heather’s house.

“Hey, Brian, you’re here already,” Chris said after Heather let him in the house and showed him to the kitchen. Brian sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll from Old Salts Bakery.

“Morning, Chris,” Brian said.

“He got here early,” Heather explained. “Want some coffee?”

“Sure. You have an extra cinnamon roll?” Chris asked.

“Of course,” Heather said as she went to get him a cup of coffee. “Where’s Hunny?”

“She’s staying with Ian and Lily while we’re gone today.” Chris glanced over to the counter and noticed all the jars. “Hey, what’s with all the jars?”

“Don’t ask.” Brian chuckled.

“Oh, shut up,” Heather grumbled, bringing Chris a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll.

Cory parked in the alley a few doors down behind Marlow House, hoping to stay inconspicuous and then follow the Marlows from a safe distance when they left for the mountains. But so far it was like Grand Central Station around here, he thought. Some old lady just