Read Dead Men's Tales (Olivia Grant Mysteries Book 2) Online
Authors: Phyllis A. Humphrey
Dead Men's Tales (Olivia Grant Mysteries Book 2) (25 page)
I was paranoid—something I well knew—and I had involved a whole bunch of really stupid men, and one fairly nice one, in a fruitless search. I could have just waited for another day at least. Surely, Penny would turn up.
Mayor MacFarley came back out of the shed and strode toward me with as much purpose as one could while wading through waist-high weeds. When he got close enough, he grabbed my arm and steered me back into the house.
Inside the door, I managed to get my arm away without appearing too rude. Or I thought so, anyway. He ignored me.
"Everybody, come back out here."
I looked at him carefully, without trying to seem like I was staring. But it didn't matter, because he wasn't looking at me anyway. He was hopping slightly from one foot to the other, an agitated little shuffle.
I decided he was older than my first evaluation, maybe late thirties. There were no signs he was a smoker, and the muscles straining his shirt suggested he was someone who exercised fairly often. In addition to needing a haircut, he also needed to shave. There was a very thin spray of dark freckles over the curve of his nose and lightly dotting his cheeks.
He'd seemed calm at first. Which really made me wonder why he was so upset now. Surely he had not found anything suspicious in my aunt's shed. Surely not…
"Why are you so upset?" I demanded.
His quelling look was a far cry from his earlier kindness. "Go sit in that chair."
I was about to object, but the others finished tromping up the stairs and presented themselves like cowboy soldiers. Instead, I just ignored him and continued to stand.
"Who has the phone?"
To my astonishment, Junior Hudley pulled it from his back pocket. That he could fit anything besides himself into those absurd Levi's was beyond my comprehension. "I got it."
Mayor MacFarley took it and dialed a long-distance number. "Yeah, this is Aodhagan MacFarley, and we got a two-forty-four in Birdwell."
"What's a two-forty-four?" I demanded as soon as he hung up the phone.
"I told you to sit down."
I sat down in the nearest chair and repeated the question firmly.
He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry to have to tell you, but your aunt's body is in the shed. I think she might have been strangled."
