“Well, I could.” Louise narrowed her eyes as she looked straight ahead. She looked as if she was planning to run the car ahead of her off the road.
“Whoa, calm down! Someone already beat you to it,” Margaret said with a nervous laugh, clutching the handle above the passenger door.
Louise didn’t appear amused by the remark, but she did relax slightly and slowed down. “Speaking of Jimmy, what’s up with the two of you?” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, don’t play coy with me. I saw the way he looked at you. And he certainly shared more with you about the case than he had to.”
“Well, maybe he is interested, but we don’t even live in the same town,” Margaret pointed out, handing Vince a dog treat.
“You don’t live on separate continents, either. I’m sure you can figure out a way to stay in touch.” Louise slowed as they approached Nipigon.
“We’ll see,” was all Margaret had to say. What else was there to say? Only time would tell how interested either of them was.
“Care to stop for coffee? We could pick up a copy of the Jabber.” Without waiting for Margaret’s response, Louise pulled into the parking lot of the Husky truck stop.
“I thought you were into herbal tea these days,” Margaret climbed out of the car and reached into the back seat for her purse.
“That was just a phase.”
They settled into a booth in the restaurant only glancing briefly at the paper menus before ordering coffee.
“Eina seemed really pleased with that table runner you bought for her,” Louise said. “Don’t forget to remind me that I still owe you for half.”
“She really did seem to like it. I got another one for Nicole, since I had to give the bracelet I’d bought for her to the police as evidence. Although, since Connie confessed, I don’t know why they need it. I guess I’ll get it back eventually.”
“Speaking of Nicole, are you planning on to visit her again this winter?”
“Yes, they’ve invited me for Christmas. I’m looking forward to it.”
“You won’t have a white Christmas!” Louise looked shocked at the idea.
“Somehow, I think I’ll survive,” Margaret said, thinking of the many cold, white months that lay ahead.
After their coffee, Margaret bought a copy of the Jackpine Journal on their way out of the restaurant. “The Pasquales won the civic beautification award again this year for their garden,” she read to Louise. “And the Cavas hosted a family reunion last weekend.”
“That must have been huge,” Louise said, frowning at the Slow: Construction Ahead sign on the highway.
“A hundred and forty-three people,” Margaret said.
“Where did they put them all?”
“According to the article: friends, relatives, and neighbours put them all up. Must have been a lively weekend. But hold on—they’ve finally chosen an official town mascot!”
“No way! Really?” Louise took her eyes off the road for a second to try to peek at the newspaper in Margaret’s hands.
“Woah! Keep your eyes on the road. It says here that when it came down to a vote from town council, they were reluctant to take sides between the mayor and his opponent.”
“Sounds like council. Anything to avoid rocking the boat.”
“So they decided to pick something neutral. It was a close vote, but it carried.”
“And? Don’t keep me in suspense.”
“The new official mascot for the township of Jackpine is—drum roll, please . . .”
“Margaret!”
“The long-tailed weasel.”
The silence inside the car was deafening as it moved down the highway toward home.
###
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About the Author
Marianne Jones is a retired teacher, actor, and choir director from the wilds of Northwestern Ontario. Married, with two amazing daughters and two gorgeous granddaughters, she writes, blogs, and celebrates life. Although not all of her words are carved in stone, three of her poems are, having been permanently installed at Prince Arthur’s Landing in Thunder Bay.
Follow her on Twitter: https://twitter.com/Mariann36863659
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Subscribe to her blog: http://mariannejones.ca/
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
About the Author
The Serenity Stone Murder Page 17
