Free Corpses & Conmen (Rosewood Place Mysteries Book 2) by Ruby Blaylock Page B

her guests’ privacy very seriously.
    She checked for other signs that the cat had been in her trash can, but only found the one scrap of paper. Curious, she unfolded the crumpled paper, expecting to find a receipt or scribbled budget sheet (she still preferred to do most of her budgeting by hand on paper--it just made everything seem more manageable). Instead, she found a handwritten note with Frank and Doris Martin’s name and address written on it. Beneath this information someone had written a physical description of each of them, crude, but fairly accurate.
    Annie stared at the strange note. She definitely hadn’t written it, and she didn’t recognize the handwriting. Instead of tossing the paper, she put it in her pocket and left the office, locking the door closed behind her.
    As she turned to walk away, she nearly tripped over two of her guests. Rob and Kizzy were waiting for her outside of her office. She had no idea how long they’d been standing there.
    “Annie, I’m sorry to bother you,” Rob began, “but your mother said you were in the office. I just wanted to let you know that I spoke to Emmett.” He lowered his voice. “It wasn’t a drowning,” he added, his voice just a notch above a whisper.
    Annie nodded. “I know. I spoke with him earlier and he told me pretty much the same thing,” she replied. “And I’m sure he told you the same thing he told me--not to panic and to just keep an eye out for strange or unusual things,” she sighed.
    “No offense, Mrs. Richards, but I’ve seen lots of strange and unusual things since I arrived,” Kizzy interjected. “Like that Marie woman, and Mr. George. Those two are some strange birds,” she giggled.
    Annie smiled and suppressed a laugh. “Some of our guests are a little, erm, unusual, but I don’t think that’s what Emmett meant.” She felt strange discussing the matter with Rob and slightly uncomfortable talking about it with Kizzy. She knew nothing about the woman, apart from the few things she’d gleaned from their short conversations. Kizzy seemed like an open book, but Annie reminded herself that she’d found the woman’s phone at the same place she’d found Lou’s body. Could she really be certain that Miss Fitzsimmons was as honest as she seemed?
    “If you two will excuse me, I’m just going to go help my mother in the kitchen,” Annie explained. “But I’ll see you two at dinner. Bring your appetites,” she added, “my mother is cooking a veritable feast.”
    Annie left her guests standing in the little space beside the stairs and took herself into the kitchen, where Bessie was now frying chicken alone. “Doris went upstairs to have a little nap,” Bessie explained. “Poor thing’s not used to all this country living,” she added with a twinkle in her eye.
    “Mama, you’re not supposed to work our guests to death,” Annie scolded, but she was secretly glad that Doris had been enlisted to prepare the beans. It wasn’t Annie’s favorite job, and at least she’d found the time to pay bills while the two older women tackled that particular kitchen duty.
    “Oh, I don’t think Doris minds one bit. And it’s so good to have some friendly company my own age around here. No offense, but you can be a little bossy, darling.” Bessie flipped the piece of chicken she was tending and grinned.
    “Someone’s got to keep you in line,” Annie chuckled, happy to see her mother in such a happy, teasing mood. Annie realized that, despite the amount of work involved with running the inn, her family seemed to be thriving. Of course, it was early days yet, but Annie couldn’t help but feel that her family had found its place in the world, and she actually looked forward to getting up every day to see what the day would bring.
    Annie drained a pan of boiled potatoes and began mashing them into submission. She heard the familiar crunch of tires on gravel as she blended them, and she glanced up only long enough to ascertain that