Free The Grave Soul by Ellen Hart Page B

has?”
    â€œYou look terrible. Come sit by the fire and let Auntie Cordelia help.”
    Guthrie started for the living room, but stopped when he saw the tree. “You’re decorating your Christmas tree. This is a family evening. I shouldn’t be here.”
    â€œOh, blither,” said Cordelia, dragging him over to the rocking chair by the fireplace. “Sit,” she ordered.
    He sat stiffly as the dogs sniffed his hands before moving on to his pants and shoes.
    â€œThey’re very friendly,” said Jane.
    He gave a weak smile.
    â€œNot an animal lover, are we?” asked Cordelia.
    â€œNo, they’re fine.”
    Jane introduced Bolger and Hattie to Guthrie. “Hey, Bolge,” said Jane as she joined Cordelia on the couch. “Could you take the dogs and Hattie downstairs to the rec room? You’ll find lots to eat in the refrigerator, and ice cream treats in the freezer. There’s an entire wall of games and movie DVDs. Help yourself.”
    â€œTreats?” repeated Bolger. Both dogs whipped their heads around, pricking up their ears at a favorite word. Since he was still holding Hattie, he clapped a hand to his thigh and ordered the dogs to follow.
    â€œI feel awful about interrupting your evening,” said Guthrie, stuffing his watch cap in his pocket, then holding his hands closer to the fire.
    â€œStop with all the apologizing,” said Cordelia, “and tell us why you’re here.”
    â€œWell, see, after you left the teahouse this morning, Jane, I decided to drive to New Dresden. I had to talk to Kira in person, see her face when I told her what I’d learned. But she wasn’t at her grandmother’s farmhouse. I eventually figured out that the entire family had gone off for a few days. Nobody knew where. I called Kira and begged her to call me back. That was around three. I still haven’t heard from her.” Leaning forward, pressing his hands together, he said, “I don’t understand it. She’s never been like this before. It’s like she’s been sucked into a black hole.”
    Jane and Cordelia exchanged worried glances.
    â€œSo, why are you here?” asked Jane.
    His shoulders sank. “I called that guy, Tom Foxworthy, the PI you suggested. He wouldn’t take the case unless I paid him five hundred dollars up front. I don’t have that kind of money. I know you said you don’t have any time to work on the case. I’m not even sure what you charge, or if you’d let me pay it off slowly.”
    â€œFear not,” said Cordelia, puffing out her ample bosom. “You have my word. Jane and I will do what we can.”
    â€œCordelia?” said Jane.
    â€œWe’ll leave for New Dresden in the morning. Spend the weekend digging.”
    â€œAre you a PI, too, these days?” asked Guthrie.
    â€œI’m”—she put a finger to her lips—“covert. I keep a low profile.”
    â€œOh. Okay.”
    â€œWe’ll come up with something,” Cordelia assured him. “I’ve always been the brains behind Jane’s cases. She probably didn’t tell you that.” She paused. “Well?” she said impatiently. “Did she?”
    â€œUm, no?”
    â€œDoesn’t surprise me.” Slapping her knees and standing, she said, “We better finish trimming the tree. I’ve got to get home and pack my trunk.”
    â€œYou probably won’t need a trunk for only a couple of days,” said Guthrie.
    Jane figured she might as well give in. Two days, in the scheme of things, wasn’t all that much to ask. Besides, she hated to admit it, but she’d become fascinated by the mystery. It was the way it always started, the reason she often said yes when she should have said no. “We’ll take my CR-V. That way, even if you decide on two trunks, we’ll have enough room.”
    â€œGood thinking,” said Cordelia. Towering