Bones & Boxes: a Hetty Fox Cozy Mystery (Hetty Fox Cozy Mysteries Book 1) by Anna Drake Read Free Book Online

probably being followed up by them.”
    “That’s an interesting thought. Anyway, I’m going to the funeral with you.”
    I gasped. “You can’t. What if someone sees you? How would I explain that?”
    “Relax. As I’ve told you, you’re the only person I let see me.”
    I rubbed my forehead. Probably because he wasn’t real.
    Unexpectedly, I felt a bitter pang of disappointment. It nearly floored me. Was I beginning to grow comfortable with this ghost’s presence in my life?
     
     
     
     

SEVEN
     
    T he funeral was scheduled for the First Presbyterian Church in Weaverton. Hendricksville apparently wasn’t large enough to have one of its own. So people of that faith had to drive to Weaverton to worship.
    Built of red brick, the church I faced that day was an imposing structure. A tall spire anchored one end. Beautiful stained glass windows decorated both the east and west sides. Ancient evergreens reached skyward to the south.
    It was said to be the largest church in Weaverton, and on this day its interior held what I considered was a decent turnout for an elderly woman without a family of her own.
    Rose sat up front beside Jennifer and the nephews. They huddled to themselves, looking suitably somber. Then my thoughts turned to killers, and I scanned the chapel, looking for likely suspects. 
    Oberton was on hand. He sat two rows ahead of me, his back straight, his head unbowed. And he, like me, was scanning the room.
    Leaning back in my seat, I wondered what else he’d learned about Carrie and her death. Did he really expect the killer to show up here?
    For one mad moment, I thought I saw Andrew floating down the center aisle, but it turned out to be a  young man rushing in late who looked very much like my ghost. I plastered my hand to my chest to still my thundering heart. The last thing I wanted was for Andrew to show himself outside my house.
    Soon, the minister arrived. The service began. It was tasteful and sad, as such proceedings usually are. It wasn’t until we were about to leave for the cemetery that Rose approached me.
    “Jennifer has scheduled a light lunch in the church basement after the service,” she said. “She and the boys would like you to come.”
    “But I didn’t know Carrie,” I protested.
    “You were with me the night we found her. Plus, you helped me clean out the house. The family wants you to know how much they appreciate your work.”
    “I didn’t really do that much.”
    “Please?”
    Reluctantly, I agreed to join them.
    Then, I left the church, sat in my car, and watched the funeral procession form. But I decided not to join them on their trek to the cemetery. Instead, I drove to a nearby restaurant and picked up a coffee to go. After which, I cruised  around town, killing time.
    I passed the bank at which Mrs. Whitcomb had been an officer. I wondered who’d taken over the position at her death? I tried to think of anything in the box I’d found in the closet that might provide a clue to the murder. But despite Andrew’s suggestion that I’d missed a connection, I still felt, other than the childhood friends, if a clue had been there, I would have seen it.
    Then, as I neared the outer limits of town, my thoughts turned to Andrew. Was he real or had I made him up? All my life, I’d been a determined realist. I was convinced life made sense. It added up. It could be scientifically examined, catalogued, and filed away.
    Andrew didn’t comfortably fit into that view of life.
    I turned the car around and headed back to town.
    It was possible  that I was losing touch with reality. Yet I doubted that assessment.  I still balanced my checkbook, I always knew the day and date, and I paid my bills on time. So what should I make of Andrew?
    For the moment  — and until I knew differently — I’d accept him for what he said he was or at least try to. Better that than to think myself insane.
     
    ***
     
    In short order I found myself back at the church. There were a