Free Murder by Serpents (Five Star First Edition Mystery) by Barbara Graham Page B

place more exotic than the next closest town.

    She stepped behind the cutting table. Maybe they would sell enough fabric today to make up for the orders that the computer lost.
     
    The backup wizard had worked late into the previous night. He managed to get the system up and running, but so far hadn't been able to restore all of the files.

    Jamie and Chris called to tell her that they would be at a friend's house. That was fine with Theo. They had their own area in the studio, but playing with a friend was better.
     
    After a long afternoon, she closed the shop at the regular time and walked to the house.

    Tony dragged his body over the threshold. It had been a long day, and he felt more like he expected to feel at eighty—and he wasn't even forty. He paused in the narrow foyer of their old house. To his left, he could see Daisy, the family golden retriever, sleeping upside down on the living room couch, her front paws folded against her chest. Gravity pulled her lips away from a formidable set of teeth. She snored softly.
    Following the sound of voices, he took two steps down a short hallway toward the kitchen. The large room doubled as the family room. A pair of recliners faced the dark red brick wall that held both a raised fireplace hearth and the television. A sturdy rectangular table separated the family area from the cooking area. An old wood-burning stove shared another brick wall with the electric range.
     
    Theo believed that comfort and history should win all decorating decisions. Small quilts hung on the walls, side by side with family photographs.

    When he approached the room, he saw that near the television, Theo was trying to separate six-year-old Jamie and almost eight-year-old Chris. From his vantage point, it looked like Jamie might be winning the battle but if Tony read his wife's expression correctly, the little boy was about to lose the war. Rather than get involved in the dispute, Tony backed away and went upstairs.
     
    Their house had the distinction of being the oldest brick house in Park County. It actually belonged to his wife. Theo had inherited it upon the death of her grandfather who had been a direct descendant of Amoes Siler, the town's founding father.

    It had undergone frequent remodeling and additions over the last two hundred years or so. One enterprising family member had decided that the large sash window in the master bedroom was big enough to climb through. He constructed a narrow, private veranda just under the window. The base of it rested on the roof of the true veranda. Barely large enough for a pair of chairs and a tiny table, Tony loved it. It was almost as much fun as a tree house. Tonight it felt like an escape, like running away, as he climbed through the window and settled onto a sagging wicker rocking chair. Sighing deeply, he closed his eyes.
     
    On any normal evening, he would lock his gun in the downstairs safe and change clothes as soon as he returned home. Tonight he believed that would take more energy than he possessed. He hadn't decided whether or not to wear his uniform when he left to attend the evening service at the Church of the Divine Revelation. Knowing the way news traveled through Silersville, all of the members of the congregation should already know about Mize's death. There might not even be anyone in attendance tonight at the motel office. Those thoughts brought up the question of what his mother and aunt wanted with the old motel.

    Using his cell phone, he dialed his mother's number. Her voice on the machine chirped, telling him to leave a message. He didn't bother, but sat back gazing out at the community that he'd promised to protect.
     
    Relaxing in the soft darkness of evening, he thought that everything in his little town looked so peaceful. In the park across the road, the trees were preparing for spring, coming back to life. Tony could almost smell the changes in the air. Soon the magnolias, redbuds and the remaining ancient oaks would