Free Where Is Henderson? (Sam Darling mystery #5) by Jerilyn Dufresne Page B

didn’t go crazy around anyone, but I had a few odd feelings around the Mayor, his wife, and his brother, Jonah. I didn’t get close enough to Louise Shannon to feel anything physically, but I’m smart enough to know a con-woman when I see one. She is slick, and she had all the women in the room bamboozled. I don’t know how many other ‘associates’ she has, but I was the only non-associate in the room. She’s built a pyramid scheme around water from a nearby spring. I’d like to get it tested.”
    “We can’t get it tested just because you don’t like her. There’s nothing to connect her to the murder. So I can’t justify the expense.”
    I felt a pout coming on so excused myself to go talk to Nibby. I found him where I’d seen him last, in the kitchen. He looked up from a flour-covered board and smiled as I walked in.
    “You almost have to bend over to reach the table from your height. Isn’t that uncomfortable for you?”
    He shrugged. “Nothing is built for my height, so I’m used to it.” He looked back at the dough he was kneading.
    “Is this the same thing you were working on earlier?”
    He laughed, “No, of course not. If I worked that slowly I’d never get done.”
    “I’d offer to help but that would just slow you down,” I said as I found a stool and pulled it near enough to him to talk comfortably. “Tell me about the house.”
    His smile increased exponentially. As he continued working he said, “When you said this was a copy of the house in Quincy, you were wrong. The house in Quincy is a copy of this one. This house was built in 1883. Doctor Peter Henderson built it as a wedding gift for his daughter, Doctor Sarah Jo Henderson. She married her long-time love, Roman Pendergast.”
    “Hmm, not a Henderson,” I said as I grabbed a piece of dough and savored it.
    “Nope. In fact he wasn’t from here. Don’t know where he came from. Anyway, they married and she kept her maiden name. A rebel. It was unheard of then, but apparently it was something she felt strongly about.”
    As he spoke, he formed the current dough into a ball, covered it with a tea towel, and put it on the counter to rest. “Tea?” he asked me.
    “Of course. Thanks.”
    As he made the tea, he continued, “The newspaper archives describe their wedding in glowing terms, and nearly everyone in town was invited. Apparently they were happy, but unfortunately shortly after their return from a honeymoon in Europe, Roman died. Tragically, the paper said, although there were no details. Sarah Jo was inconsolable. Almost immediately she packed up and left town.”
    “Suicide,” I said.
    “What do you mean?”
    “People don’t even like to talk about it now. Imagine back then. I’m not positive of course, but if the paper said he died tragically, but didn’t say anything else, it might have been by his own hand.”
    “Interesting,” was all Nibby said.
    He put a hot cup of tea in front of me. I inhaled the flowery fragrance, then cautiously took a sip. “So then…” I said, wanting Nibby to continue the story.
    “So then Sarah Jo went to Quincy, Illinois. She’d seen an advertisement that the city was in need of doctors, so she went. For some reason she wanted the same house she’d been so fleetingly happy in, and she hired the same architect from Henderson, and had him build it on Quincy’s north side.”
    “I’ve never been inside the one in Quincy. Is it the same as yours? Exactly?”
    “That’s what I’ve heard.”
    “Cool,” I said, and set back to enjoy the tea. “Maybe I can find out who the current owner is, and check out the place.” Suddenly I sat forward, “George!” And I quickly explained to Nibby that George was waiting for me back in the parlor.
    By the time I finished apologizing to George, I was famished. George and I decided to go back to the Henderson Commonwealth Kitchen again since it was nearby and they had a lot of choices.
    We guiltily left Clancy in our bedroom and