A Biscuit, a Casket Read Online Free PDF Page B

Em said.
    Stan envied the younger girl’s ease with the family, an ease that came from knowing
     them forever, growing up together, having a bond within the community. It was something
     she’d never thought much about until she moved here. Maybe she’d become close enough
     to people in Frog Ledge that these gestures would seem like second nature to her,
     too.
    Tyler ignored his mother’s suggestion to go to bed, instead directing his next question
     to Pasquale. “So what’s next? How do you find out who killed my father?”
    Pasquale met his gaze head on, unblinking. “We investigate. We talk to everyone we
     can think of, just like we’ve been doing tonight. We find out what your dad did today,
     before this happened. It might take some time, but we’ll find who did this.”
    Tyler processed Pasquale’s response, then nodded. “So do you need us to help?”
    “I absolutely will need you to help,” Pasquale said. “But not tonight. You and your
     brother should go get some rest, and let your mother get some rest. I’ll come back
     tomorrow and we can talk. Okay?”
    Tyler looked at his mother. She nodded.
    “Okay,” he said. “I’ll be here.”
    Emmalee went over to Tyler, her eyes brimming with tears, and wrapped him in her arms.
     They stood that way for a long time, while Danny slept on the couch next to them.
     “Go upstairs,” she told him, finally.
    Tyler kissed her on the cheek and obliged. Stan could hear his shoes, heavy on the
     creaking staircase, as he disappeared from sight.
    A fluffy calico cat wandered in from the same room Pasquale and Em had vacated. As
     did most animals, she made a beeline for Stan, her erect tail reminding her of Nutty,
     her own Maine coon cat. She missed him, and her two recently adopted dogs. Wanted
     to go home. She stroked the cat’s back and checked her tag. Petunia. She remembered
     the homemade treats she’d brought for Benny and his friends in her bag. She pulled
     one out, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, and fed it to the cat. Duncan
     perked up, and she tossed him one, too. Samson hadn’t woken.
    Em looked at Pasquale. “Need anything else?”
    Pasquale started to answer, but Stan cut in. “Sorry to interrupt. Did anyone talk
     to the guy working tonight?”
    “What guy working?” Pasquale asked.
    “You mean Enrico?” Em asked. “The milker,” she explained to Pasquale. “We have someone
     on all night.”
    Pasquale looked at Stan. “Did you see him doing anything?”
    “I saw him in the barn, so I just wondered,” Stan said. “He was watching all the action.”
    “I’ll get Lou to talk to him, if he hasn’t already,” she said.
    “That might be tough,” Em admitted. “He doesn’t speak much English. He’s legal, though.
     All the papers are on file.”
    “What time does his shift start?” Pasquale ignored her explanation about the worker’s
     immigration status.
    “He came on today around four. They work twelve-hour shifts.”
    “Okay. I’ll need to talk to everyone on staff as well. First thing in the morning,
     unless they’re here now. We talked about that, Em.”
    “And I told you the boys would be difficult.”
    “We can bring a translator.” The two women stared at each other for a few seconds,
     leaving Stan to wonder what had occurred in the other room.
    Em dropped her gaze first and nodded, weary. “Fine.”
    Pasquale nodded. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Get some rest.” With one last glance
     at Jake and Brenna, she walked out, shutting the door firmly behind her. Stan watched
     her flashlight bounce across the grass as she collected Lou. They strode toward the
     cow enclosures. Em watched them go.
    Stan’s heart ached for the family. It was time to leave. Beside her, Jake shifted,
     signaling he was ready to get up.
    “Leaving?” Brenna asked. She looked more like Jake than their older sister. She had
     the same dark blond hair he did, the same easy smile. Her eyes were a light hazel