hard. Gracie, Aunt Judyâs plump gray cat and another of a string of rescued strays, leaped up onto Piperâs lap and offered an ear to be scratched.
Aunt Judy glanced over her shoulder from the stove where she was testing the doneness of her boiling potatoes with a fork. âWhy you?â
Piper sighed. âShe seems to think that because I was once engaged to a criminal lawyer, I have some kind of special, insider-type knowledge.â
Aunt Judy smiled knowingly.
âI know,â Piper said. âIf only it were that easy.â She shifted Gracie to a more comfortable position. âAlthough Scott did talk an awful lot about what they did on the investigating end of their cases.â
âWell, there you go. Youâre all set.â
Piper laughed. âI wish. Though I really would like to do something to help. Nate seems so alone, except for the few friends heâs made here in Cloverdale.â
âHe seems like a nice young man.â
âI like him, too. Unfortunately, not everyone does. Alan Rosemont, for one, obviously really, really disliked him.â
âWell, Alan . . .â Aunt Judy set down her testing fork and took a peek at the roast in her oven.
âI donât suppose it would hurt to just poke around a bit,â Piper said. âIt sounds like Alan Rosemont ruffled enough feathers to make more than one person want to do away with him.â She shifted Gracie to the floor, then stood to take plates from her aunt to set the table. âIâve already heard about the terrible paint job on the library that Rosemont was responsible for.â
Uncle Frank walked into the kitchen, chuckling. âLyella Pfiefle was fit to be tied,â he said, leaning over to give Piper a peck on the cheek.
âDonât laugh, Frank,â Aunt Judy scolded. âHow would you like one of your barns to end up looking like that?â
âI wouldnât like it one bit. But I wouldnât run around clucking like a wet hen for weeks on end about it.â
âShe surely didnât fuss that long. Here, pull that roast out of the oven for me and set it on the carving board, will you?â Uncle Frank grabbed the oven mitts, and Aunt Judy waited until her roast was safely settled before adding, âBut Lyella was upset, thatâs for sure. Alan had Dennis Isley do the painting when Lyella was away for a library convention. It must have been a terrible shock for her when she got back. People said she marched into Alanâs antique shop and chewed him out royally. He ended up pushing her out and locking his door.â
âMaybe I should find out where Lyella Pfiefle was around the time Alan Rosemont was murdered?â
âAmyâs asked Piper to find out who might have wanted to kill Alan other than Nate Purdy,â Aunt Judy explained to her husband. âOh,â she said, snapping her fingers. âI forgot my wax beans. The ones I put up with honey and ginger. I want you to try them, Piper.â
She disappeared into her pantry, and Uncle Frank picked up a carving knife and began swiping it against the sharpener. âSure,â he said to Piper, âgo talk to Lyella. See if she has an alibi. Someone that upset? No telling what she might do.â
Piper nodded but wondered about Uncle Frankâs sudden lip twitch. When he ducked his head and began poking at the roast with the carving fork, she decided he must be starving and got out the butter and milk for the potatoes to get things moving along.
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B y midafternoon on Sunday, Piperâs wares had been released by the crime scene crew and safely hauled back from the fair to her store with the help of many. Since she wouldnât have opened for business that day anyway, and Aunt Judy had assured her the library would be open, Piper decided to run over to see if she could catch Lyella Pfiefle. She headed off on foot to cover the few blocks there,
Learning to Kill: Stories