Free Guidebook to Murder by Lynn Cahoon

dashboard.
    â€œI heard the mayor introduce him to Bill from the council. The developer guy’s here, too. They’re all in the office talking right now.” Amy sounded like she’d been locked in a closet. “I left for lunch but forgot my keys. When I came back into the lobby, the four walked into Mayor Baylor’s office and closed the door. I don’t even think they noticed me.”
    â€œWhere are you? I can barely hear you.”
    â€œI’m under my desk. I didn’t want them to see me calling you.”
    Seriously? What would the mayor and his guests think if they saw a phone cord dangling down under the desk? Sometimes Amy didn’t act like she had a master’s degree.
    â€œAmy, go to lunch. I’ve got to meet Doc Ames or Miss Emily won’t ever get a proper burial.” My loyalty to Miss Emily won out and kept the Jeep heading to Bakerstown.
    â€œI’ll call you when I get back if he’s still here.” Amy’s voice got louder.
    â€œJust be careful.”
    â€œYou don’t think they killed Miss Emily, do you?” Amy’s voice had a slight quiver. Like when she saw a dead sea lion or an injured bird.
    Now I’ve scared her.
    â€œJust go to lunch. I’ll call you as soon as I’m done with Doc Ames.”
    â€œI’m going straight to Lille’s and ordering a double order of fish and chips and a milk shake.”
    And she wouldn’t gain an ounce. Life wasn’t fair. “Later.”
    I hung up the phone and rolled the window back down to get the wind flowing through the Jeep. I grabbed the granola bar masquerading as my lunch and dreamed of Lille’s French fries. By the time I reached the funeral home, I could smell the salt and grease. Tonight’s dinner wouldn’t be a frozen diet meal. I planned on visiting fast-food heaven before I left the big city. Maybe the salt and fat would ease the pit that had been in my stomach since the reading of the will.
    Doc Ames walked me through the funeral process. What would happen, who would speak, even what hymns would be sung. At each step, he’d ask my opinion. By the end of the hour, I’d said “that will be nice” so many times, I wasn’t even convincing myself anymore.
    And then we were done. Doc Ames walked me out to the parking lot.
    â€œI’m deeply sorry for your loss.” He opened the Jeep’s door.
    Tears filled my eyes. “She meant a lot to me.”
    â€œNot everyone would go through all this for someone who wasn’t related.” Doc Ames shook his head. “Believe me, I’ve seen too many souls pass through here with no one handling the last requests, no one to grieve. She was lucky to have you as a friend.”
    I climbed in the Jeep. “That’s where you have it wrong. I was the lucky one.”
    He shut the door and waved. “I’ll see you Friday for the service.”
    I started the car up and headed to fast-food alley. As an emotional eater, I needed to live up to my vice.
    When I got back to the house, a black Hummer sat parked in front. Stuffing what remained of the second order of thick steak fries back into the paper bag, I wiped my mouth with my hand. The mushroom and Swiss burger had disappeared soon after leaving the drive-in’s parking lot. When I added a vanilla milk shake, the meal had cost the same as one of Lille’s rib-eye steak dinners with all the fixings. But it had been worth the price. I’d been starting to feel normal again. Now I had visitors. My stress level ratcheted up as I got out of the Jeep.
    A tall Middle Eastern man in a suit that had to have cost more than my Jeep got out of the Hummer and walked toward me. “Miss Gardner?” His voice was deep and smooth, like aged whiskey.
    After first wiping my hands on my jeans to remove any last trace of grease and salt, I shook his offered hand. “I’m Jill Gardner, and you