Sheila relaxed a bit. “Do I hear a but?”
“A small one.” Tony considered his next words with care. “Take it slow. He’s been severely traumatized, and you’re his guardian angel, the woman who saved his life, literally preventing him from dying with your bare hands.”
“I’ll leave my halo at home. I promise.” Sheila poked a loose tendril back into her braid. “What’s going to happen with the botany spy?”
“I’ll bet he doesn’t get the award for producing a beetle resistant strain of plants. I don’t know if his Ph. D. can be revoked, but I’ll bet he has trouble getting university work. They tend to be a little picky about hiring known thieves.”
“Sheriff?” Rex’s voice interrupted the discussion.
Tony thought he detected amusement in Rex’s voice and mentally braced himself. At least it was probably not too serious. “What is it?”
“You are not going to believe this.” Rex paused a moment. “Mrs. Emily Austin just drove to the front door, climbed out, and came inside to lodge a complaint. She says she loaned someone a mink coat and she wants it back.”
“Does she know what the temperature is today?”
“Probably not.” Rex laughed. “Mike said he followed her all the way to the door and charged her with driving under the influence and driving on a suspended license and couldn’t believe it when she led him here. He tried to pull her over, but she just kept driving.”
Tony was yanked into real time. “Wait, when you say drove to the door . . . ?”
“Yessir. The car is on parked on the front sidewalk, wedged pretty tightly against those yellow safety poles. Someone from Thomas Brothers is coming to lock it in the impound lot.”
“Her family is going to have to take away her key; alcohol isn’t mixing well with her medications.” Tony shook his head, both relieved and concerned. He didn’t want Emily to live out her last days in his jail. “Sounds like we’re back to business as usual. I’ll bet your next call involves squirrels stealing seeds from the bird feeders.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
* * *
Barbara Graham began making up stories in the third grade and immediately quit learning to multiply and divide. Her motto is “every story needs a dead body and every bed needs a quilt.” She writes because she cannot “not write.” Barbara continues to be intrigued by the problems and situations her imaginary friends manage to get themselves into. She refuses to accept any blame for their misfortunes and actions.
A prize-winning quilter, she enjoys combining her fabric addiction with her predilection for telling tall tales.
Married to a man who can do math in his head (very useful to a quilter), she has two perfect sons, one perfect grandson, and “is not the worst mother-in-law in history.”
Barbara Graham - Quilted 05 - Murder by Sunlight Page 26
