Free Murder So Sweet (A Sweet Cove Mystery Book 2) by J A Whiting Page A

do.” Mr. Finch said.
    The chief finished up with Mr. Finch and he left the house. Angie and Ellie stayed in the living room in case Finch wanted to talk.
    “I’m sorry about the painting,” Ellie said.
    Finch tried to force a slight smile. “It was never mine anyway.”
    Euclid and the black cat jumped up beside Finch and he patted them absent-mindedly. When the purring started, Finch smiled. “Such a comforting sound. You are both very fine animals.”
    “Be careful with your praise, Mr. Finch,” Ellie told him. “It goes straight to Euclid’s head.”
    “And, what about the other cat?” He scratched the black cat’s cheek. “Does praise go to her head, as well?”
    Angie said, “We don’t know her well enough to say.”
    Ellie looked at Angie. “No one answered the ad you placed for her.”
    “I guess she is the newest member of your family then.” Mr. Finch looked kindly at the dark feline. “You’ll be needing a name.”
    Courtney and Jenna came in and sat with the others. They heard what Finch said.
    “Do you have a suggestion?” Jenna asked him.
    The older man stroked the cat’s luxurious ebony fur. “What about Circe?”
    “What a pretty name.” Courtney smiled. “How did you think of it?”
    “It’s from Greek mythology. Circe was the goddess of magic.” Mr. Finch rested his cane against the arm of the sofa.
    “I think it’s perfect,” Courtney said.
    Euclid sat up and trilled.
    Everyone chuckled.
    Angie looked over at the orange cat. “I guess you approve, Euclid.”
    “Then Circe it is,” Jenna agreed.
    ***
    Angie was up late sitting at the dining room table going over Tom’s estimate for the Victorian’s renovations. She used a pencil to write her questions in the margin of the report. Her sisters had gone to bed over an hour ago. Euclid slept on top of the cabinet. Circe meowed from the hallway. She sat at the door to the den and Angie got up to open it for her. “What’s so great about this den? There are seventeen other rooms you can go into, you know.”
    Angie had just returned to her seat at the dining table when she heard soft footsteps on the stairs. Mr. Finch was coming down the steps dressed in his pajamas, robe, and slippers.
    “Can’t you sleep, Mr. Finch?” Angie placed the pencil on the table.
    “I didn’t think anyone was still up.” Finch took slow steps into the dining room. “I sometimes have trouble falling asleep. The events of the past week haven’t helped in that regard.” He gave Angie a weary smile.
    Euclid lifted his head, saw it was Finch, and went back to sleep.
    Each night, Ellie left hot water, coffee, juice, and ice water on the side board for the guests. There was a basket of fresh fruit, a hazelnut cake, and a glass domed platter with chocolate-brownie cookies and biscuits.
    Mr. Finch poured himself a glass of water. “May I sit here with you?”
    “Of course. I’m just reviewing the estimate for the renovations.”
    “When will they start working on the house?” Finch sipped his water.
    “Not until I have the deed. Probably in a couple of months.”
    Finch took another sip, and then placed the glass on the table. He raised his eyes to Angie. There were heavy bags under his eyes which pulled the lower lids down slightly. His pale blue eyes looked watery and a tiny bit red.
    His voice was calm when he asked, “Do you want to ask me something?”
    Angie was about to dismiss Finch’s idea that she might have a question for him, but she changed her mind and decided not to deny it. The corners of her mouth turned up and she tipped her head to the side. “How do you know that I have a question?”
    Finch said simply, “It’s written on your face.”
    Angie folded her arms and leaned on the table. “I was at the market this morning. One of the town cab drivers was there. He told me that he picked you up at the train station two days before your brother’s murder.”
    “Ah, I see.” He nodded his head slightly. “But what is