Berry the Hatchet by Peg Cochran Read Free Book Online Page A

What’s his name?”
    Monica felt herself tensing from head to toe. Maybe if she created a distraction she could stop this conversationin its tracks. But what to do? Douse them both in calming lavender essential oil? Sweep all the glass bottles off the counter? Set off the smoke alarm? Panic was making her think like a crazy person.
    â€œYou probably
do
know him.” Nancy gave that coy smile again. “I’m sure everyone does.”
    â€œDon’t keep us in suspense.” Gina leaned her arms on the counter, her eyes on Nancy.
    Nooooo
, Monica was screaming inside her head,
don’t say it.
For a moment she was afraid she might have actually spoken out loud.
    â€œIf you must know,” Nancy said, giving a slight giggle, “it’s Preston Crowley, mayor of Cranberry Cove and owner of the Cranberry Cove Inn.”
    Gina became so still that for a moment she reminded Monica of an ice sculpture. Gina’s only movement was a slight trembling of her hands that slowly increased until they jerked wildly, scattering the glass bottles of essential oils all over the display counter.
    â€œPreston Crowley?” Gina said, the words coming out in a croak.
    Nancy looked half amused and half annoyed by Gina’s reaction. “Yes. Do you know him?”
    â€œAs a matter of fact, I do,” Gina said in a quiet voice with a menacing edge that made the hairs on the back of Monica’s neck stand on edge.
    Oh no, here it comes.
Monica was tempted to duck for cover.
    â€œIs something the matter?” Nancy bristled and arched an eyebrow.
    Gina began righting the toppled bottles. “You could saythat,” she said. She looked up at Nancy. “I’ve been seeing Preston Crowley as well.”
    â€œPreston?” Nancy looked confused. “Do you mean seeing as in . . . ?”
    Gina nodded curtly.
    Nancy’s face went white and her lips tightened. She gave a mirthless laugh. “I don’t suppose there could be two Preston Crowleys . . . cousins or something?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œThe dog!” Nancy spat out.
    â€œI’m afraid none of that really matters now,” Monica said.
    â€œWhat do you mean?” Nancy turned toward her daughter.
    â€œPreston’s dead.”
    â€œWhat?” Gina and Nancy said at the same time.

Chapter 6

    Monica hurried down Beach Hollow Road toward Gumdrops and her abandoned farm stall. By the time she’d left Gina’s shop, Gina had retrieved a bottle of wine from the refrigerator in her back room, and she and Nancy were drowning their sorrows in large glasses of sauvignon blanc.
    Monica found people still milling idly along the sidewalks, as if they didn’t know what to do with themselves. Some of the shops, like Bart’s, had already closed up. Others, like Danielle’s and the Purple Grape, were still doing business as if nothing had happened. Monica glanced across the street—the lights were even on at Bijou. The shop had taken over the space vacated by a camera store that had been made obsolete now that everyone took pictures with their smartphones and looked at them on their computers.
    The sleigh was still in the center of the road, with two policemen standing guard, although Preston’s body hadmercifully been removed. The yellow-and-black police tape snapped in the brisk wind.
    Monica found everything at the farm stand to be in order. She’d pack up the unsold baked goods and take them to the farm store tomorrow morning. The Winter Walk—with all the shops open until eight o’clock in the evening for the event—was meant to run for another four nights. Monica had no idea whether they would have to cancel the rest of the event or not, but she supposed Jeff could always come and collect their stall in the morning if need be.
    Monica didn’t relish the idea of being back there in the morning. A sense of sadness enveloped her—the peace, comfort