The Murder in Skoghall (Illustrated) (The Skoghall Mystery Series Book 1) by Alida Winternheimer Read Free Book Online

materials here and I get a case of beer, the kind to be decided by me. And it won’t be cheap beer.”
    “Deal.” Jess extended her hand. Beckett’s hand felt firm and warm, despite just being inside a cooler. His face softened with their touch, his cheeks dimpling when he smiled in a genuine way. Jess noticed a wash of light freckles across his nose and cheeks. “Well,” she cleared her throat and they released each other’s hands. “Um…I need something else, too. I have to move a desk and bookshelves. I’m willing to hire help. I mean, I don’t want to be presumptuous.”
    “Don’t worry,” Beckett said. “We’ll get it done.”
    “Really?” She couldn’t help smiling in relief.
    “I know what it’s like to move on your own.”
    Beckett returned to filling the cooler while Jess pored over the rack of paint chips. She left Skoghall with a bird feeder and seed, paint samples, a padlock for the smokehouse door, the name of an electrician, Beckett’s offer to help her, and Tyler’s phone number. She sang as she drove home, feeling infinitely better about everything. As she navigated her long driveway, being careful to avoid the worst of the ruts, she realized that she had forgotten to send Chandra an email while in town. Hopefully the Wi-Fi would be working. And the phone. And her computer.
     
     
    Jess opened the front door and called hello to Shakti. The puppy whined and scrambled to her feet, her claws scratching the plastic tray of her crate. Shakti stood at the door, wagging her tail expectantly, the stink of urine making Jess pull back before opening the crate.
    “Oh, Bear!” She couldn’t help sounding disgusted. She’d only been gone a couple of hours. As soon as the door was open, Shakti leapt out, knocking Jess over in her desperate need to be comforted. Jess carried her upstairs, grimacing at the feel of damp fur against her bare arms. “You stink.” Shakti raised her head and licked Jess’s face. “Yeah, great,” she said.
    The rest of the day, Shakti shadowed Jess from room to room, and she remained irritated, despite reminding herself the puppy couldn’t help it.
    At bedtime, Jess checked the doors to make sure they were all soundly locked, then scooped up the dog and carried her up to the front bedroom. Jess was excited Beckett had agreed to help her move her furniture. She liked the idea of facing the front of her property and writing with the morning light. She pictured it furnished with her desk, the bookcases, and maybe the stove from the smokehouse. She turned to leave, her hand on the light switch, when she stopped. There was something sitting on top of the television, something that had not been there before: the little cowboy from out in the yard.
     

     
     

 
     
     

Chapter Three
     
     
    The early evening sun shone through the kitchen windows, lighting everything with a warm glow. The sunflower curtains over the sink were parted so that Bonnie could look out at the woods. She had asked John to put a birdhouse on one of the big ash trees this spring, and yellow-rumped warblers had taken up residence. Bonnie couldn’t wait to see the young emerge. She stood at the sink, peeling carrots into her scrap bucket. John and Johnny played together in the living room, pushing dump trucks around the braided rug in front of the television. She cut the carrots into large chunks and laid them in the roasting pan around the chicken, then began peeling the potatoes. Her hands moved on their own while she gazed out the window, watching for the warblers. They liked the evenings. When the potatoes where cut and in the pan, Bonnie carried her scrap bucket out the back door and emptied it into an old pie tin sitting on the ground.
    As she was rinsing out the bucket, John came in from the living room, walking softly on bare feet. Bonnie smiled to herself as she watched his reflection grow in the window over the sink. He slipped his arms around her small waist and kissed her neck. She