A Most Curious Murder by Elizabeth Kane Buzzelli Read Free Book Online

tangled among the branches of a broken lilac bush. Without understanding why, Jenny got up to move the hoe as if that lethal point, so close to his head, could do more damage.
    She touched the wooden handle, meaning to push the hoe off to one side. It seemed important to make things better. Caught in the broken bush, the hoe didn’t move when she pushed it. She pulled at the handle and then, when it caught, she pulled again. She put both hands on the metal end itself and pulled.
    When it wouldn’t budge, snagged too deeply in broken branches, she decided to leave it where it was and go for help. As she got up, she noticed that she’d left behind a shiny handprint on the stone where she’d been leaning.
    She turned her hand up to check it. Her palm and fingers were stained red. No cuts. Nothing hurt. She looked at her other hand. More dark red stains.
    Horror struck her hard when she glanced at the pointed head of the hoe. A single drop of viscous liquid dripped. The drop fell slowly to the dark stone beneath. On the stone, a puddle of coagulating blood spread out to blackened edges.

Chapter 8
    “You see?” Zoe said, in a hushed voice. “You still don’t smell the trouble all around us?”
    Jenny and Zoe stood over the body.
    Jenny held herself still. The dead man lay as if sleeping—except for the blood. She wondered if she was in shock. She didn’t feel that any of this was real.
    She’d run back to the house to get Zoe, dressed and ready for the Fida hunt. Zoe’d called the police and then they’d come out together to watch over Adam’s body. Something they had to do for the man, whether they liked him or not.
    Zoe’s hands covered her mouth. Her eyes were huge.
    “I can’t believe he died here,” she whispered from behind protective hands.
    “Somebody killed him.” Jenny pointed toward the hoe.
    Zoe shuddered and mumbled, “Do you think he took Fida?”
    “Why would he do that? And where did he put her?”
    “He could’ve killed her. Maybe buried her.”
    “Oh, Zoe. Don’t we have enough misery for one day without imagining more?”
    Ed Warner, head bobbing nervously, with a deputy trailing in his wake, finally arrived. The deputy herded them back up the lawn to Zoe’s house, leaving them there with the stricture to stay put. “I’ll be back to talk to you both as soon as I can.”
    “Could you check inside Adam’s house for me?” Zoe put a tentative hand on the deputy’s arm.
    The deputy frowned down at the hand. “What for? The man’s dead in your yard, Ms. Zola, not at his house.”
    “My dog is gone. I think he took her . . .”
    He leaned away from Zoe. “If I were you, I’d worry more about the man murdered in your yard than about your dog.”
    “Of course. It’s just that . . .” Her eyes blurred with tears.
    He saw the sheen in her eyes. “I’ll talk to the chief. Figure that dog’s pretty important to you.”
    The young deputy was gone before Zoe could thank him.
    They sat in Zoe’s living room and listened to the voices outside—in the garden and then between the houses. They didn’t say a word until Jenny’s cell rang.
    Dora was on the other end. “What on earth’s going on over there? I just got home and there are police cars everywhere. I thought something happened to one of you. Can’t be the dog. It isn’t, is it? Anything happen to Fida?”
    Jenny broke the news as easily as she could, saving some of the more lurid details for when she saw her face to face.
    “Oh no. Poor man,” Dora said. “That family’s cursed, Jenny. Someday I’ll tell you.”
    Dora wished them luck and hung up. Jenny tried to make small talk with Zoe to ease their tension, but nothing helped as they waited for one of the policemen to tell them what happened.
    From time to time, they talked about the shock of Adam’s death and then worried about Fida. After that, there was little to say. They sat on Zoe’s low, curved sofa and waited.
    ***
    Zoe’s house wasn’t at all