A Spoonful of Murder by Connie Archer Read Free Book Online Page B

He parked, blocking the alleyway, and trudged through the snow to reach them. The curious were already starting to gather around the police car.
    Nate stared at the frozen, seemingly disembodied head and then turned to Lucky and Sage. “This is just great,” he muttered sarcastically. “Anybody know who she is?”
    “She’s a tourist, that much I know,” Lucky volunteered. “I forget her name—Patricia something. It escapes me now. She comes in almost every day.”
    Nate shook his head. “This is bad. This is real bad. Was she staying up at the Lodge?”
    Lucky thought a moment. “The hotel at the Resort? No. Somebody mentioned it. Marjorie, maybe. I think she was staying in a house up on Bear Path Lane.”
    Nate turned to Sage. “You know her?”
    Sage shook his head. “No. Like Lucky said, she was a customer here a lot. Always ordered pretty much the same thing.” Lucky stared at Sage, remembering the way he had stopped in his tracks when he spotted the blonde in the restaurant. Was he lying? Did he know more that he wasn’t willing to tell?
    Janie and Meg flew out the back door to see what the commotion was about. Janie stared, clapped a hand over her mouth and rushed back inside. Meg was riveted by the sight. Nate turned to her. “You shouldn’t be out here, young lady. Go stay inside. I’ll talk to you later.” Meg nodded and retreated to join Janie.
    Nate scratched his head. “I’ll call Eleanor Jensen. If she rented the house to this woman, maybe she’ll know who the next of kin might be.” He glanced down the alleyway at his cruiser, debating whether to trudge back to his radio or use the phone at the Spoonful. “Can you two stay here for a minute? I’ll use your phone if that’s okay.”
    “Go right ahead. Use the one in the office,” Lucky replied.
    Nate was back in a short minute to stand watch over the body until his deputy and a van could arrive. “You don’t happen to know what kind of a car she drove, do you?”
    Lucky was at a loss. “No—no idea.”
    “Well, if she was living on Bear Path Lane and going up to the Resort, she’d have to have one. We’ll find it eventually. You two go inside. No point in all of us freezing.”
    Lucky and Sage headed back to the warmth of the Spoonful. She noticed that Jack had turned over the sign on the front door to read CLOSED , but he was nowhere in sight. Sage returned to the kitchen and stood staring at the pots warming on the stove. Finally, he turned the burners off and started to wipe down the counters. “Are we closed, boss?” he called out.
    “Yes,” she replied. “Probably best for now.”
    J ACK SAT ON a small step stool in the storage pantry, his arms raised protectively over his head, his shoulders hunched, his eyes squeezed shut. He heard the screams of the men, saw the telltale flow of red beneath the waves. He couldn’t get to them fast enough. If the torpedo hadn’t killed them, then the sharks already circling soon would, tearing off limbs and ending lives. It was one thing to put your life on the line to fight for your country, but to die like this, torn apart by an atavistic creature of the deep—no one had signed on for this. He hadn’t signed on for pulling mauled bodies out of the sea either, but it was something that had to be done.
    Jack whimpered and took deep breaths. He knew what was happening to him. He knew there was some fancy name for it now—some kind of initials—something they never talked about at the time. They were kids when they signed up. After, everyone just wanted to go home and do their best to heal. He took another deep breath, struggling by a sheer act of will to shut out the screams. He had to keep going—for Lucky. If he fell apart now, she wouldn’t stand a chance—and this place was all the poor girl had. No family now—only him, and he was a sad excuse for that. An old man, a widower, living alone in a cottage that had seen better days. It was that woman—seeing her and the