said.
“Not really.”
He kept crunching away as he thumbed through some envelopes from his satchel, then thrust my father’s mail directly at me.
I flinched, but managed to lift my hands to accept the mail.
“There you go,” he said. “Mail’s delivered and the killer’s been caught. All’s well that end’s well. The town can sleep easy tonight.”
“Indeed.” I nodded in agreement.
The large-framed mail carrier took another bite of his carrot, turned and sauntered down the porch steps, then walked over to the house of Mr. Michaels. I was still nodding as he deposited mail there, gave me a cheery wave, and continued on to the next home, whistling a carefree tune.
I stared after the man as he made his way up the street, ignoring the chill from standing in the doorway with no coat on.
Was it possible the killer had an accomplice? Or that the police had the wrong guy? Who walks around eating giant carrots, anyway? Even if the mailman was on a diet, most people on diets snack on those bags of peeled baby carrots.
Jeffrey rubbed against my legs, drawing a figure eight with his body. The door was open, but he didn’t seem interested in running through the snow to patrol the neighborhood.
I was thankful for the cat snapping me out of my paranoia over the burly mail carrier. The police had their suspect, and it wouldn’t do me any good to go around imagining everyone with unusual snacking habits was secretly a murderer.
Jeffrey walked to the doorway, sniffed the crisp winter air, then turned back to loop around my ankles again, his tail swishing up in an undulating question mark.
A bird flew down from a nearby tree and perched on the porch railing, but even that didn’t entice Jeffrey outside.
“You’re becoming a real homebody,” I said to him. “I guess that little spa treatment at the vet did what it was supposed to do. No more carousing around, squawking at ladies.”
He sat on my foot and gave me an innocent look, and then a slow blink, to tell me I was all the woman he needed.
I had to laugh. My imagination was certainly working overtime lately, but at least the things I imagined Jeffrey thinking made me smile.
I took one last look down the street. The mail carrier was halfway down the next block, talking to a woman on the sidewalk while her tiny dog darted around them, marking the snow. The woman and her dog wore matching winter jackets.
“Would you like one of those cute little jackets?” I asked Jeffrey. “You’d look so smart in a vest. Maybe a red one? No, blue. Definitely blue for Mr. Jeffrey Blue.”
His tail swished back and forth making question marks.
I closed the front door and started getting ready to go out shopping. I sent a message to my old friend, Jessica, telling her to prepare herself for an exciting night on the town.
Sure, there was a crazed killer on the loose in Misty Falls, but we weren’t living under a curfew… yet.
Chapter 15
I had a good day shopping, a short cat nap with Jeffrey, then got myself showered and ready for my night on the town.
At eight o’clock sharp, I walked into the Fox and Hound, the Irish-themed pub situated at the corner of town, just off the highway.
Some residents of Misty Falls refer to the Fox and Hound as the Lost and Found, on account of the many scarves and mittens that are left behind in the darkened booths, as well as the spontaneous relationships that are “found” right around last call.
The cozy pub, with its many dark corners and well-worn upholstery, was not what you’d call a singles bar . It was a far cry from the nightclubs in bigger cities, but in a small town like Misty Falls, it was the closest thing to a “scene” for younger people.
I’d been thinking a lot about my single status when I went shopping for clothes that afternoon. Each time I caught a glimpse of my hair in a mirror, I wondered if perhaps Pam was right. Maybe my short hair was telling men I’d just gotten out of a relationship and
“Not really.”
He kept crunching away as he thumbed through some envelopes from his satchel, then thrust my father’s mail directly at me.
I flinched, but managed to lift my hands to accept the mail.
“There you go,” he said. “Mail’s delivered and the killer’s been caught. All’s well that end’s well. The town can sleep easy tonight.”
“Indeed.” I nodded in agreement.
The large-framed mail carrier took another bite of his carrot, turned and sauntered down the porch steps, then walked over to the house of Mr. Michaels. I was still nodding as he deposited mail there, gave me a cheery wave, and continued on to the next home, whistling a carefree tune.
I stared after the man as he made his way up the street, ignoring the chill from standing in the doorway with no coat on.
Was it possible the killer had an accomplice? Or that the police had the wrong guy? Who walks around eating giant carrots, anyway? Even if the mailman was on a diet, most people on diets snack on those bags of peeled baby carrots.
Jeffrey rubbed against my legs, drawing a figure eight with his body. The door was open, but he didn’t seem interested in running through the snow to patrol the neighborhood.
I was thankful for the cat snapping me out of my paranoia over the burly mail carrier. The police had their suspect, and it wouldn’t do me any good to go around imagining everyone with unusual snacking habits was secretly a murderer.
Jeffrey walked to the doorway, sniffed the crisp winter air, then turned back to loop around my ankles again, his tail swishing up in an undulating question mark.
A bird flew down from a nearby tree and perched on the porch railing, but even that didn’t entice Jeffrey outside.
“You’re becoming a real homebody,” I said to him. “I guess that little spa treatment at the vet did what it was supposed to do. No more carousing around, squawking at ladies.”
He sat on my foot and gave me an innocent look, and then a slow blink, to tell me I was all the woman he needed.
I had to laugh. My imagination was certainly working overtime lately, but at least the things I imagined Jeffrey thinking made me smile.
I took one last look down the street. The mail carrier was halfway down the next block, talking to a woman on the sidewalk while her tiny dog darted around them, marking the snow. The woman and her dog wore matching winter jackets.
“Would you like one of those cute little jackets?” I asked Jeffrey. “You’d look so smart in a vest. Maybe a red one? No, blue. Definitely blue for Mr. Jeffrey Blue.”
His tail swished back and forth making question marks.
I closed the front door and started getting ready to go out shopping. I sent a message to my old friend, Jessica, telling her to prepare herself for an exciting night on the town.
Sure, there was a crazed killer on the loose in Misty Falls, but we weren’t living under a curfew… yet.
Chapter 15
I had a good day shopping, a short cat nap with Jeffrey, then got myself showered and ready for my night on the town.
At eight o’clock sharp, I walked into the Fox and Hound, the Irish-themed pub situated at the corner of town, just off the highway.
Some residents of Misty Falls refer to the Fox and Hound as the Lost and Found, on account of the many scarves and mittens that are left behind in the darkened booths, as well as the spontaneous relationships that are “found” right around last call.
The cozy pub, with its many dark corners and well-worn upholstery, was not what you’d call a singles bar . It was a far cry from the nightclubs in bigger cities, but in a small town like Misty Falls, it was the closest thing to a “scene” for younger people.
I’d been thinking a lot about my single status when I went shopping for clothes that afternoon. Each time I caught a glimpse of my hair in a mirror, I wondered if perhaps Pam was right. Maybe my short hair was telling men I’d just gotten out of a relationship and
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