A Biscuit, a Casket by Liz Mugavero Read Free Book Online

she’d gotten home this morning. As she pulled the
     phone from the pocket, she swore she could still smell the crisp, fall, farm air clinging
     to her coat. It gave her the creeps thinking of that trench of mud behind the corn
     maze.
    Shaking it off, she glanced at the readout. Jake. “Hey,” she said. “What are you doing
     up so early?” He’d probably gone to bed later than her if he’d closed the bar.
    “How are you holding up?” Jake asked.
    “I’m fine. I’m going to stop by Em’s this morning.” She went to the fridge and pulled
     the dogs’ and cat’s food out. They were all still glued to their spots, watching her
     every move. “I feel so bad for her. What a nightmare.”
    “I know. But she’s a tough lady. She’ll get through it.”
    “I’m sure she will,” Stan said.
    Silence on Jake’s end of the phone. And no jokes. Odd. Stan popped the bowls of the
     animals’ chicken, rice, and cranberry dish into the microwave and reheated.
    “Will you be at the bar today?” he finally asked. Saturdays were usually when she
     and Brenna got together to discuss the upcoming week’s orders.
    “Yes. I’ll be over sometime midafternoon. Will you, uh, be around?”
    “I will,” he said. “Big night tonight. The step dancers are coming in.”
    Jake’s place was well known for the live Irish acts who came from all over the country
     to perform. Tonight, a national Irish step-dancing troupe would pack the place to
     the hilt.
    “I thought about canceling after last night, but the group had already traveled all
     the way here. And I think Hal, of all people, would’ve wanted the show to go on. He
     loved Irish music. You gonna stay to see them?” he asked.
    Stan thought about it. She probably would. She didn’t get out much these days, and
     it seemed like a fun way to spend the night. Being in the house alone, thinking about
     what had happened two doors down, wasn’t all that appealing. And she’d get to see
     Jake, a little voice reminded her. She stuffed a gag in the little voice’s mouth.
    “I think so,” she answered carefully, spooning the food into three bowls. “But we
     can talk about it later.”
    “Okay then,” Jake said. “I’ll see you in a bit. Dunc says bring treats.”
    “Duncan knows that’s a given,” Stan said.
    She hung up and fed her animals, watching them lick their plates clean. An evening
     with Jake, even though he would be working, was tempting. She had to figure out if
     she was ready to give in.
     
     
    “Someone killed the farmer? With a hook? Like a pirate hook?” Nikki Manning’s incredulous
     voice resonated over the phone, making Stan want to laugh, which she didn’t think
     was appropriate. Instead, she took a long swig of coffee before answering.
    “Someone killed the farmer. With a hooklike thing. I don’t know what you call the
     hook, but it looked horrible. Short, curved, wooden handle. Kind of like a miniversion
     of the Grim Reaper’s sword thingy.” Despite herself, she shuddered. “And only two
     houses down from me, might I add.” In addition to talking everything through with
     Nutty, Stan needed her best friend’s take on the recent events. Nutty hadn’t had much
     to say about the incident.
    “Sword thingy? It’s a scythe. Well, the Grim Reaper’s tool is a scythe. I think the
     smaller one is a sickle. Hold on, I’ll send you a picture.”
    Stan frowned. “How do you know so much about scythes and sickles?”
    Nikki laughed. “Don’t worry, I didn’t do it. Rhode Island has farming types, too,
     remember? My dad had lots of those tools around here. He did a lot of work outside,
     grew some stuff. Here it comes.”
    Seconds later Stan felt her phone vibrate in her hand as a text came over. She pulled
     it away to look at it. Nikki had sent her a picture of what looked remarkably like
     what had killed Hal. “A sickle,” Stan read. “Yep, that’s it. Who would’ve known? And
     who would’ve been carrying this