Free Guidebook to Murder by Lynn Cahoon Page B

had called the local Bakerstown Home Repair box store, and they were scheduled to come tomorrow with a new dishwasher, range, and washer-dryer set. My credit card hovered near the limit, but my meeting with Jimmy Marcum should solve that problem. Otherwise, I would have to sell a lot of coffee to pay for the changes I wanted to make on this place. Or maybe take on a third part-time job to make the payments.
    I made more notes on my to-do list. Paint the kitchen, replace flooring, price out cabinets and counters. The list continued to grow. With all the renovations that my ex and I did on the San Francisco houses, I knew I could lay a wood Pergo floor. Maybe I could con Amy into helping me on that one.
    I went to check my phone: no messages or missed calls. I called Amy’s office number. After five rings, her message machine came on. “This is Amy Newman, South Cove’s city planner. I can’t come to the phone right now, please leave a message.”
    â€œHi, Amy. Look, my phone died last night. Call me when you get back tomorrow. I want to ask you something.” I hung up the phone but stared at it for a while. When did the council meet again?
    I checked the calendar hanging in Miss Emily’s kitchen. Council Meeting had been written in red on the twenty-fifth, two weeks away. I had plenty of time. Setting the phone down, I grabbed one of the trash bags and carried it out to the side of the garage. My arm pinched, and I rolled my shoulders to ease the stress. I wouldn’t think about my friend, even though every plate I picked up reminded me of Miss Emily.
    If I could get most of the cabinets cleaned out, I would go shopping tomorrow while they installed my new appliances. My grandmother always said the kitchen was the heart of the home, so it was the first room on my list to remodel. With it done, I could cook dinner for Aunt Jackie next week before she left as a thank-you.
    The phone was ringing when I came back through the door. Stumbling over one of the boxes, I grabbed it. “Amy?”
    â€œNo, this is Sadie Michaels down at the church.”
    I poured yet another cup from my second pot of the day. Who needed energy drinks when you could mainline caffeine? “What can I do for you, Miss Michaels?”
    â€œCall me Sadie.”
    â€œSorry, what can I do for you, Sadie?” I sat down at the table. This wasn’t going to be a quick call. I could already see that.
    â€œWell, Miss Gardner—”
    I interrupted her. “Now, if you’re Sadie, then I have to be Jill.”
    â€œWell, Jill, the ladies and I just wanted to let you know that everything is set for the service tomorrow. We’ll have a ham and several sides, including Aggie’s potato salad and Connie’s coleslaw. I know you aren’t a member of our church family, so I just wanted to assure you that the meal after the service will be tasty. We went all out for Miss Emily.”
    â€œI’m sure Miss Emily would be pleased.” I was surprised we were having a full meal. I’d expected coffee and cookies. Apparently I had more to learn about this funeral ritual. I wondered what else I was supposed to do afterward. Did I send thank-you notes for the flowers and the food? Did Hallmark sell them? I made a note to call Doc Ames; he would know.
    â€œI wanted to tell you how much you meant to Miss Emily. I’d stop by each week. She was on my visitation route. She would just go on and on about you and that shop of yours.”
    â€œShe could be a talker.” I choked up. I wished people would stop being so nice. One of these times I would start crying. I bit my bottom lip, changing the subject. “So, you visited her? I’m sorry, Sadie. Miss Emily didn’t mention you.”
    Sadie laughed, and the sound chimed over the connection like bells.
    â€œThat doesn’t surprise me. She could be a little hesitant about anything that had to do with the church. Both Pastor and I