“Mags umm Margaret, my goodness, are you all right?” I asked and locked the door in case there was a problem I didn’t see. “Should I call 9-1-1?”
“No, no, no, I’m okay,” she said trying to catch her breath. “I need to see Yummy. I ran from the parking lot behind the building.”
The little Yorkie stood close to my leg, looked up at Mags, and growled.
“Yummy is right here and he’s fine. What’s wrong?”
She bent over to pick him up, and he growled louder. When she reached her hand out, he snapped at her.
“I have never seen him act this way,” I said. “Why do you need to see him?” I pressed my lips together while I waited for an answer. Something was off about her request.
“I’ve decided I want to keep him. He’s the only reminder I have of my aunt. It’s a personal memory thing.” Mags reached down again to pick Yummy up, and the dog cowered behind me.
“I don’t think he wants to go with you,” I said placing my hands on my hips. Mags was beginning to annoy the heck out of me.
“He doesn’t have a choice; he’s just a dumb, little dog,” Mags shouted stomping her foot.
“Douglas told me that your aunt wanted me to have Yummy.”
“He’s an idiot,” she said folding her arms across her chest.
I smiled at her, and she seemed to squirm. “Lucas told me the same thing.”
“Lucas, what? He was already here. I want that dog or you’ll be sorry.” She took a step toward me.
The curtain that separates the store from the back room parted, and Georgie stepped out. “Did I just hear you threaten Annie? I hope not.”
“Oh no, we were just having a discussion.” Mags’ face faded from rage red to pale in two heartbeats.
“Glad to hear it,” Georgie said. “I heard you were offering to pay for Yummy’s vet care. Since you’re a busy lawyer, do you have time to take care of Yummy? Inga wanted Annie to keep Yummy. Is it about the check? You don’t need the money, why don’t you let her keep the check. Annie can write the check over to the pet shelter. They could use the funds with all the dogs and cats. Maybe they could afford to have a free adoption day and wave any fees. I think more people would adopt a pet that way. It would be a great thing to do, Mags.”
Mags’ eyes were large as saucers when she looked at Georgie. “Are you insane? Never mind, keep the ball of fur,” She turned and her heels clicked across my hardwood floors. At the end of the aisle, she stopped and turned back to face us. “My name is Margaret,” she screeched. We could hear the door slam.
I looked at Georgie. “You might have something there about Inga being murdered, but which one did it?”
Georgie tilted her head and shrugged.
She reached in her pocket and pulled out her cell phone that had chimed for a second time in as many minutes. “Gotta run, Paul’s in over his head.” She smiled and rushed out of the store.
Chapter Five
Afternoon gossipers began to drift into the shop around two o’clock. Rumors were flying about what happened to Inga. It seemed every person who came in had heard a tidbit of information from someone who knew a fact or two. All those tidbits added together made an incredibly odd story. Every suggestion from murder to suicide to alien invasion was discussed. I sold three sci-fi books after the alien discussion. It was an interesting afternoon. Around three-thirty I received a text from Georgie:
“Autopsy inconclusive. Waiting on tox screen.”
“??????????”
I kept the information to myself. I knew it was a solid lead if it was murder, and I didn’t want to discuss it. I heard the town hall clock chime five o’clock, and it was time to lock up and go home. I looked down at Yummy and knew I needed a much longer leash to let him roam through my backyard. It was a good thing the hardware store was open until six.
#######
I couldn’t leave Yummy in the car, so I carried his carrier in my hand when I pushed through the door of Cavanaugh Hardware. The Cavanaughs had owned the hardware store as long as my family has owned the bookstore, but refused to name it Heavenly Hardware. Townsfolk said the first Cavanaugh thought the name sounded too feminine. He wanted the store to cater to men who wanted to build and prosper their homes and farms. Hence, Cavanaugh Hardware is one of the few stores in town not named after Heavenly Corners.
I set the carrier on the counter and said, “Excuse me.”
A man nearly six feet tall with dark blonde hair graying gracefully on the sides and deep hazel eyes turned and smiled. I think he’s a man, or possibly a Greek god. I swallowed. He’s the first man that’s caught my eye since Steve. I smiled back.
He gazed at me intently and said, “As I live and breathe, Annie. Annie Ryan how the heck are you?”
A moment went by, and it struck me. I was in Cavanaugh Hardware staring into the eyes of Clark Cavanaugh.
“Clark, I’m fine thanks. How are you? I heard you were back in town.”
He smiled at me again, and I remembered back to when Steve and I were in high school. Clark was two years ahead of us, but a popular guy everyone knew and liked. I heard he was planning to come back to town after his parents were injured. Mr. Cavanaugh needed knee surgery when a branch from a tree he was trimming fell on him. Mrs. Cavanaugh thought she would take care of the store and fell off a ladder and injured her back. They were both laid up, and Clark came back to town to help out in the store.
“What can I help you with this evening, Annie?
