Free Mulled Murder (Pennyfoot Holiday Mysteries) by Kate Kingsbury Page B

only one thing she could do, and that was to find out herself who had killed Gerald Evans.
    She sat down again and stared once more into the flames. Sam had said something earlier that had rung a bell in the back of her mind. She had learned long ago to pay attention to such instances, since they invariably led her to an important conclusion.
    She couldn’t imagine why she should attach significance to anything Sam had said. He had assured her that he was satisfied Gerald Evans’s death was not connected to the Pennyfoot. Still, if she could find out what crime her guest had been pursuing, she might be able to prove it had nothing to do with the Pennyfoot.
    She kept her gaze fixed on the glowing coals in the fireplace. What was it Sam had said that had struck a chord? Something about Gerald Evans’s partner. He said he had sent him a telegram and . . .
    She sat up straight. Of course. She had received a telegram not so long ago. The way it read had intrigued her. The word
stop
at the end of each sentence. She closed her eyes, seeing again the crumpled note she had found in Gerald Evans’s waste paper basket.
Spotsman seen nearby. Already made run. No sign batman. Still looking. Stop
.
    That note had convinced Sam it was about a cricket match. She’d thought at the time that there was something really odd about it. Especially the last word. Now she knew why. Gerald Evans had been composing a note for a telegram. Maybe he’d sent more than one.
    Excited, she leapt to her feet. She should tell Sam. No, first she needed to make sure there was something to tell. She had planned to go to the library that afternoon. While in town she would call in at the post office.
    Halfway across the room, she paused. This was not her business this time. Baxter would not be at all happy if he knew she was pursuing a case that possibly had no connection to the Pennyfoot. A second later she shrugged. What the eyes couldn’t see the heart couldn’t grieve over. For her own peace of mind she needed to find answers, and settle this thing once and for all.
    She would go to the post office just to see if Mr. Evans had sent any other telegrams and if there was anything in them to help solve his murder. She would then relay the news to Sam and that would be the end of it. Baxter would never have to know.
    Pleased with herself, she opened the door and headed down the hallway.
    • • •
    “Where the bloody hell did you get to?” Gertie paused to get her breath, arms folded across her stomach. She’d finally found Lilly in the laundry room, after chasing up and down the hallways looking for her. Now she stood in the doorway, determined not to let the young woman pass until she’d delivered Mrs. Chubb’s message.
    “I went for a little walk.” Lilly’s voice sounded strange, as if she was out of breath.
    Gertie rolled her eyes. “You’re not scared, are you? There’s nothing to be frightened of.”
    Lilly raised her chin. “I’m not frightened.”
    “You look bloody frightened.”
    “I’m just shocked, that’s all. It’s not every day someone ends up dead on the beach.”
    “Well, as long as it’s not you lying down there, you ain’t got nothing to worry about, have ya.”
    Lilly looked as if she were about to be sick. “I gotta go.” She shoved past Gertie and tore off down the hallway as if there were a herd of elephants chasing after her.
    “Don’t say nothing to nobody,” Gertie yelled after her, belatedly remembering Mrs. Chubb’s directions. She couldn’t understand why the maid was in such a stew. It wasn’t as if the dead body had been found in the Pennyfoot. Then she’d really have something to worry about.
    Stomping down the hallway, she decided she really didn’t like the new maid. She couldn’t understand why Madam had hired her. It was obvious that Lilly had never worked as a servant before. She knew nothing about the most basic of tasks, and acted as if everything she was asked to do was beneath