Free Silver Six Crafting Mystery 01 - Basket Case by Nancy Haddock Page A

enough, and not right now, but I can leave after the meeting, Aunt Sherry. And”—I paused to give Fred the stink eye—“I’ll call every day next week to check on you.”
    “That’s somethin’ more than you have done,” Fred said with an
I won
look while Sherry patted my hand.
    “Well, then,” Maise said as she rose, “there’s nothing more to do other than be sure we’re locked up tight at night and leave the yard lights on. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to read my Navy Seal book.”
    “Which one are you reading?” I asked, as any book lover would.
    “One with a very handsome model on the cover, Miss Nosy.”
    The men harrumphed, I snorted a laugh, and Maise sailed off.
    Sherry grinned at me. “Your laugh reminds me of Sue Anne’s, Nixy. It’s good to hear it.”
    Emotion blindsided me again. While I blinked away the second teary lump in my throat of the day, the rest of Sherry’s friends began drifting away.
    Aster strode off to her garden, and a minute later a Jimi Hendrix song blasted from the south side of the house.
    “What on earth?”
    Sherry giggled. “That’s Aster. I’ll bet you thought she’d play classical music to her plants.”
    “I didn’t think about her playing any music to them, but acid rock is, uh, a bold choice.”
    “She says it gives her herbs extra oomph.”
    “Uh-huh.” If I hadn’t seen her garden, I’d wonder what kinds of herbs Aster grew.
    Dab came through the kitchen with a handful of tools, declaring himself ready to break down the stills as promised. Eleanor offered to help, and with only a slight hesitation, Dab accepted.
    Fred clomped his walker to the back door. “I’m gonna mow old lady Gilroy’s yard.”
    “Old lady Gilroy?” I echoed as Fred and his walker clanked out the back door and onto the deck.
    “I guess we shouldn’t call her that, but she’s ninety if she’s a day.” Sherry carried her tea glass to the sink. “She lives in the small house next door. Irascible woman. We take meals to her every few days. Not that we see her in person, but the food disappears off her porch right enough.”
    “I’m guessing that’s one neighbor Hellspawn never talked to.”
    “It’s Elsman, dear.”
    “Not in my book. How does Fred get the riding mower over there?”
    “There’s a gate in the chain-link fence. You can’t hardly see it if you aren’t standing there, but the barn is set a good ten feet from the fence. The gate is there, so Fred has plenty of room to maneuver the tractor.”
    “I noticed her yard goes back to the next street like yours, except she doesn’t have all the trees. I suppose that was part of your homestead once.”
    She gave me a sideways glance. “Um-hmm.”
    I felt like I was missing something, but plunged ahead. “So, what do you usually do on Sunday afternoons?”
    “This and that,” Sherry said. “Today I want to spend time with you. What would you like to do?”
    I smiled as an idea occurred. “Will you show me the family cemetery? I’d forgotten about it until Mr. Lambert mentioned it this morning.”
    Sherry’s breath caught and she blinked rapidly. “You’re a Stanton, child. Naturally you should meet your ancestors.”
    •   •   •
    WHEN I’D CAUGHT TRUDY BEHIND THE BARN yesterday, I’d only glimpsed a sea of pink azaleas. Now I saw the azalea bushes surrounded a three-sided whitewashed picket fence, which in turn enclosed the cemetery. The south edge of the cemetery reached almost to the edge of the barn, and the chain-link fence, bare of bushes, sealed the north boundary of the graveyard.
    Chain-link fences, in fact, outlined the back and side yards of each home all the way down the block. I counted six houses, three facing west as Sherry’s did, and three facing east. One fat cat lounged on a round wicker table in the nearest yard, but I didn’t see or hear a single dog. Perhaps they were all too old to be bothered to bark at us.
    “Sherry, which house is the