Appraisal for Murder by Elaine Orr Read Free Book Online Page B

must be one of the things you learn when you get to be her age. Corporal Johnson came up to us. “You can go now, Ms. Gentil.” She pronounced it correctly. “I know how to contact you if we have any more questions.”
    She walked away, and Aunt Madge looked upstairs. “I think we should wait for Michael,” she said.
    Harry and I looked at each other. “We could…” I began.
    Harry gently cut me off and spoke to Aunt Madge. “My sense was that he would call you if he needed to.”
    “I suppose you’re right. I just hate to think of him all alone,” she said.
    “He must have friends here,” I said, anxious to get home and give Jazz a good hug.
    “Not so many,” she said, as we turned to leave.
    AS SOON AS WE GOT HOME, I called the local garage and asked them to come put two tires on my car. I said I’d be down to pay them later, and that the car key would be under the driver’s side floor mat. There are such advantages to small towns.
    I didn’t realize how tired I was until I hung up the phone. Harry declined Aunt Madge’s offer of lunch. I, never known for declining a meal, said I wanted to take a short nap. Aunt Madge was certain it was because of the shock of finding Mrs. Riordan, while I attributed it to getting up at 6 a.m. Whatever the reason, I was asleep by 11:30 and didn’t wake up until almost 1:30. I might have slept longer, but Jazz was pawing on the door. She had had enough of this afternoon nap stuff.
    When I couldn’t deter her by saying “Here kitty, kitty,” I finally got up. I slung her over my shoulder and headed downstairs. I was trying to get her used to the dogs so she could have the run of Aunt Madge’s living area; so far, she would have none of them. She sat on top of the refrigerator (reached by jumping from floor to counter top to flour canister to fridge), and hissed at the dogs, who were most anxious to meet her.
    The dogs were outside and Aunt Madge was nowhere to be found. I stepped into the small backyard and spent the obligatory half-minute scratching the dogs before wandering back to the garage, where Aunt Madge kept Uncle Gordon’s small boat and her gardening tools. The garage was so small there was barely room to walk around the boat, a flat-bottomed dory that Uncle Gordon used to launch into the ocean from the surf. Aunt Madge often comments about how he loved to fish. I peered in, not really expecting to see Aunt Madge, and saw that the boat had a fairly fresh coat of paint. Since she never took it out, I was surprised.
    Turning to go back to the house I saw Aunt Madge’s car was in her small parking area, next to a guest’s, so I went back into the house. It was then that I noticed her half-empty tea mug on the oak table, with a piece of paper beside it. The small note said, “Be back in a couple hours.” Since I didn’t know when she left, I could not guess when she’d be back. It struck me as odd, since by now she would usually be working on her bread. I peered in a large bowl that was covered with a kitchen towel, and saw it had been rising too long and had deflated.
    The tire guy was still working on the flats, so I walked the short distance to the in-town grocery store. Aunt Madge’s guests would expect their afternoon snack, and I was fully familiar with the loaves of bread you could buy in the frozen food section. However, I could not remember how long it took to thaw or cook them. It turned out there would be just enough time to do both and have the small loaves ready by 4 p.m. No cheddar bread, but it would still be good.
    The dogs paced the kitchen as I put the preformed loaves on cookie sheets. This was not my usual job, and they seemed to want to supervise. I had just put the loaves in the oven and reached up to take Jazz off the fridge when the front door opened and I heard Aunt Madge’s deliberate footsteps approaching the kitchen. Thank goodness. I had no idea how to make small talk to guests I’d never met.
    The dogs raced to the kitchen