Wicked Witch Murder by Leslie Meier Read Free Book Online Page A

on Prudence Path, just a hop, skip, and a jump away through a narrow patch of woods, she didn’t get to see Patrick as often as she wanted, which was every minute of every day. Patrick was growing so fast and changed so much every time she saw him that she was afraid he’d be all grown up before she knew what happened. So when she and Bill and the girls arrived at the party, Lucy made a beeline for her grandson, scooping him up in her arms.
    â€œHe’s so heavy and only three months!” she exclaimed.
    â€œHe’s a real chowhound,” said his beaming father.
    â€œFourteen pounds,” said Molly, who looked tired. “When he hits fifteen, Doc Ryder says I can start solids. I can’t wait—maybe then he’ll sleep through the night.”
    â€œAre you waking your poor mommy up?” cooed Lucy, jiggling the baby and looking into Patrick’s big blue eyes. “Are you a naughty boy?”
    Patrick answered with a smile and a burp, or maybe just a burp, but Lucy was sure it was a smile. “Did you see that?” she exclaimed. “He smiled at me!”
    But now the smile was gone. Patrick was beginning to fuss, and Lucy reluctantly handed him back to his mother. Molly retreated to a secluded porch swing to nurse him, and Lucy joined her neighbors Frankie La Chance and Willie Westwood, who were arranging dishes on an improvised table made out of a door set on sawhorses. The party was actually taking place in the little cul-de-sac shared by five houses. Barbecue grills and picnic tables had been brought from individual yards and arranged together under a canopy improvised from a big blue tarp. Twinkling Christmas lights had been hung underneath the tarp, and soft rock music was playing on a donated stereo. Ice-filled coolers held an assortment of soft drinks, beer, and wine.
    â€œCan I help?” offered Lucy.
    â€œI think we’re all set,” said Frankie. “Everything looks delicious.”
    â€œI’m starving,” said Willie, helping herself to a handful of potato chips. “I was at the barn all afternoon.” Willie was a keen horsewoman who taught riding lessons; her husband Scratch was a vet. They had two kids—Sassie, who was Sara’s age, and Chip, who was still in elementary school.
    â€œThe burgers should be ready soon,” said Frankie, who was the primary organizer behind the annual cookout. She was a real estate agent and a single mom with one child, Renee, also Sara’s age. “In the meantime, can I get you a glass of wine?”
    Soon the three women were settled on lawn chairs, sipping their wine and swapping stories about their kids, their pets, and their neighbors.
    â€œDid you hear about this awful thing in the woods?” asked Willie. “I heard about it on the radio.”
    â€œWhat thing?” asked Frankie.
    â€œI was the one who discovered the body,” said Lucy. “It was horrible.”
    â€œWhose body?”
    â€œThey don’t know yet,” said Lucy. “It was burned.”
    â€œMon Dieu!” exclaimed Frankie.
    â€œThey said it was probably a drug deal gone wrong, something like that,” said Willie.
    â€œMaybe a gangland slaying. They burned the body so it couldn’t be identified. That’s the theory anyway,” said Lucy.
    â€œI can’t believe anything like that would happen here,” said Willie, sipping her wine.
    â€œMe neither,” said Lucy, eager to change the subject. “By the way, I invited our new neighbors, the Stoughtons. They moved into the place on the other side of the bridge.”
    â€œIke Stoughton?” asked Frankie.
    â€œYup.”
    â€œHe’s a shrewd one. I bet he got that place for a song. It’s been on the market for over a year.”
    â€œSpeak of the devil. Here they come now,” said Willie.
    Lucy looked up to see the entire Stoughton clan advancing down the road. Ike was leading the