Fudge-Laced Felonies by Cynthia Hickey Read Free Book Online Page B

I yelled.
    “Not hungry!” Aunt Eunice called down.
    That didn’t go well, and my stomach growled. I opened the refrigerator and stared into the food-packed recesses. My aunt, the queen of stockpiling. If she didn’t visit the grocery store for a month, we still wouldn’t go hungry. It didn’t take long for me to pull out the makings for a meal.
    I soon sat back at the table with a cold diet cola and a sandwich. I frowned and took a bite of my ham and Swiss dinner.
    It didn’t look like I’d be getting much help from Aunt Eunice. I really hadn’t been aware she had such a tight friendship with Mabel and Ruby. Shrugging, I took another bite. Counting the Ruperts, I had six suspects. I’d need to do some in-depth detective work tomorrow night.
    Truly growled and bounded for the kitchen door. She scratched at it and let out a bark. The hair on my neck rose, and my skin prickled. I got to my feet and whipped around to stare out the window. The wind had increased, blowing dirt and small debris across the yard, but I couldn’t see a reason for the dog’s fuss. Tree branches slapped at the darkening sky. Thick clouds turned the early evening almost dark.
    I reached for the door handle then stopped, remembering all the silly B horror movies where the heroine walks straight into danger. I withdrew my hand and wished Aunt Eunice hadn’t gone upstairs. Maybe it was Uncle Roy returning from the nursery. I shook my head. I hadn’t heard the rumble of his truck coming into the driveway.
    “Truly. Come.” I inched my way from the kitchen and into the hall then bounded up the stairs. “Aunt Eunice!”
    She shrieked as I burst into her room. “Land sakes, child! Are you trying to kill me? You know storms make me nervous.”
    “There’s someone outside.” I parted the curtains and peered out. “Call 911.”
    “Did you lock the front door?” Aunt Eunice sat up from where she’d been lounging against her bed pillows. “No. Didn’t you?”
    “I was busy telling you about that missing boy.” She clutched a pillow to her chest. “Besides, it wasn’t dark then. Go on.”
    My heart leaped into my throat. “What?”
    “You’ll have to lock the door, Summer.”
    “Can’t I just stay in here with you?” Going downstairs alone did not give me a warm, fuzzy feeling. “We could lock ourselves in.”
    “There’s no phone. Do you have your cell phone?”
    “Downstairs.” I glanced around for something to use as a weapon and grabbed one of Aunt Eunice’s mud boots. “Okay. If I’m not back in five—”
    “Good grief, Summer. What do you plan on doing with that boot?”
    “Throw it at anyone who jumps out at me. Cause a distraction.” Nervous giggles escaped. “I didn’t see anything else.”
    Aunt Eunice nodded. “Good luck.”
    I nudged the dog aside with my foot and left her with Aunt Eunice. Never did the hall seem to stretch so far or appear so dark. Clichés from a half-dozen slash-and-gore movies ran through my mind. This is real, Summer. I clutched the boot tight against me.
    I worked my way downstairs, my heart beating in time with each step. Tree branches scraped against the house, and I froze. Not hearing anything else, I kept going. Now would be a good time to pray.
    Lightning flashed, thunder rolled, and the lights went out. Stifling a scream, I plastered myself against the wall. “God, keep me safe. Please.”
    I scooted to the living room.
    Footsteps pounded from the front porch. I rushed forward.
    Threw the dead bolt on the door. Then the chain.
    The knob turned.
    I fled to the kitchen. Where was Uncle Roy and his trusty gun when you needed them? Did he really have to work late at the nursery unloading the pallet of fertilizer? “Now I lay me down to sleep—” No, definitely not that prayer. Wait. They changed the words. How did it go now? Never mind. Something else. “Our Father, who art in heaven—”
    Lightning skittered across the sky again. In the brief flash, I spotted the outline