Chloe Boston 15 - Murder by the Book

by Jackson, Melanie

  Though your hither withers and your spine splines

  Though your corsets a horse fits and your feet grow effete

  Whether weather or oar, hey hay, be bee

  Period(.)

  The videographer could be heard claiming that he had run out of tape at this point in the poem. It was more likely he wanted to run somewhere to be sick. The CD moved on to others both drunk and sober who felt they had a word to say.

  By the end of the video I was feeling angry and sad. This had been yet another of those important moments in the life around me that I would have loved to be a part of, but once more my unofficial capacity as lead investigator for every agency in the country had interfered. I was getting tired of having my role as the Sherlock Holmes of the Pacific Northwest take away these precious moments. Worst of all, I didn’t know where to go to submit my resignation.

  I needed a cup of tea to calm me down. I rose and stepped into the kitchen, and then I got to wondering whether Lawrence or Agatha might want a cup.

  “Hey, are you guys back there?” I called in the direction of the bedrooms.

  I heard nothing in reply and I certainly didn’t want to barge in on any postnuptial goings on. I began to prepare my tea. That’s when I heard the sound of a power saw running in the garage. I stepped out front to see what Lawrence was up to.

  “I’m cutting up a piece of plywood to patch a hole in the shed,” Lawrence explained. “The raccoons have gotten in there again.”

  “And where’s Agatha?”

  “She had some errand to run. Said she’d be back in a couple of hours. The funny thing is, she took a taxi.” Then Lawrence got a concerned look on his face. “You don’t think she’s in trouble again, do you?”

  “No, Lawrence,” I replied with a dry laugh. “I’m sure she’s fine. Would you like some tea?”

  “Yes, that would be fine, thank you,” he replied, displaying an unconvincing smile.

  I returned to the kitchen and continued preparing the tea. While I waited for the water to boil I got to thinking about where Agatha might be. An intuitive spark told me instantly where she was. And for some reason I felt that I needed to be there too. I finished making the tea and poured a single serving. I carried the steaming mug out to Lawrence who was still shaping his plywood.

  “Just set it there on the workbench,” Lawrence said when he saw me coming.

  If Lawrence was anything like my father, he would soon forget about his tea and it would grow cold.

  I said my goodbyes, explaining to Lawrence that I had somewhere I needed to be. He didn’t question me, though he looked as if he would have liked to. I hopped in my car and drove to the local hospital. At the information desk I was given directions to Eddie Springer’s room. There I found Agatha sitting in a chair beside a closed door. It was the door to Eddie’s room. Agatha’s eyes were closed and tears coursed down her cheeks. I took a seat in the chair next to hers.

  “I thought I might find you here,” I said to let her know I was present.

  “I was wondering how long it would take you to find me. I salute your proficiency as a sleuth. I half expected you to be in his room before you arrived.”

  I thought hard about what to say next and how to say it. As it turned out, the extra time spent thinking didn’t improve my delivery one bit.

  “I’m sorry about Eddie, I mean the other one. Not that I’m not sorry about this one too,” I blathered then paused to take a breath. “I hope you know what I mean.”

  “I know what you mean, Chloe,” Agatha assured me.

  Another awkward silence followed.

  “Is he awake?” I asked.

  “Yes. He’s waiting for me in his room. I was asked to come here to tell him about his father and brother.”

  The final silence was the worst of them all.

  “I suppose I need to do this before I chicken out,” Agatha said.

  That she had agreed to do this told me everything.

  “Yeah, I suppose so,” I agreed.

  We both rose from our seats. I walked toward the exit while Agatha set herself to open Eddie’s door. I stopped and turned to say one last thing.

  “You know, Agatha, motherless or not, Eddie is going to need a lot of help.”

  Agatha turned her head to consider me. She appeared to be about to say something but then changed her mind. Instead, she shook her head and let herself into Eddie’s room.

  About the Author

  Melanie Jackson is the author of over 60 novels. If you enjoyed this story, please visit Melanie’s author web site at www.melaniejackson.com.

  eBooks by Melanie Jackson:

  The Chloe Boston Mystery Series:

  Moving Violation

  The Pumpkin Thief

  Death in a Turkey Town

  Murder on Parade

  Cupid’s Revenge

  Viva Lost Vegas

  Death of a Dumb Bunny

  Red, White and a Dog Named Blue

  Haunted

  The Great Pumpkin Caper

  Beast of a Feast

  Snow Angel

  Lucky Thirteen

  The Sham

  Murder by the Book

  The Butterscotch Jones Mystery Series

  Due North

  Big Bones

  Gone South

  Home Fires

  Points West

  The Wedding

  Wild East (Coming Soon)

  The Wendover House Mystery Series

  The Secret Staircase

  Twelfth Night

  On Deadly Tides

  Miss Henry Mystery Series

  Portrait of a Gossip

  Landscape in Scarlet (Coming soon)

  Requiem at Christmas (Coming soon)

  Wildside Series

  Outsiders

  Courier

  Still Life

  The Book of Dreams Series:

  The First Book of Dreams: Metropolis

  The Second Book of Dreams: Meridian

  The Third Book of Dreams: Destiny

  Medicine Trilogy

  Bad Medicine

  Medicine Man

  Knave of Hearts

  Club Valhalla

  Devil of Bodmin Moor

  Devil of the Highlands

  Devil in a Red Coat

  Halloween

  The Curiosity Shoppe (Sequel to A Curious Affair)

  Timeless (Sequel to Club Valhalla)

  Nevermore: The Last Divine Book