A Ghostly Grave Read Online Free PDF Page B

the end of the cord around a hole in the lattice and plugged it into the end of another set of lights. “I hope it brings in a crowd for the festival.”
    â€œI was talking about the festival.” The roar of the generators from the roach-­coaches hummed along with all the birds singing throughout the square.
    â€œI’m talking about the body you exhumed. You interrupted morning yoga.” She climbed down and smoothed out her very chic chin-­length bob. Her black eyes bore into mine for the big dark secret. “What was up with that?”
    â€œI just do what the police warrant tells me to do. I’m sorry I ruined your class.” I knew she meant that she didn’t get paid since everyone was at the cemetery.
    â€œI was doing my morning yoga class on the front porch of the Inn. You should have seen them. Zula Fae included.” A grin crossed her lips, exposing beautiful white teeth. “I swear they heard the click of the tractor key before John Howard turned it. They bolted to the edge of the veranda and once they heard the hum of the tractor, they ran across the square faster than jackrabbits. Zula Fae was beside herself looking for her moped key, cursing and throwing things out of drawers trying to find the extra set. Once she found them, she jumped on the moped, gunning it as fast as it would go.”
    â€œYep, she’s going to kill someone with that thing.” I shook my head.
    It wasn’t like Hettie and I were big buds. She recently moved to Whispering Falls and started the new yoga studio, Pose and Relax. She bought the abandoned building next to Eternal Slumber, which she was renovating. Until the new space was finished, she was holding her classes at the Sleepy Hollow Inn, where Granny’s customers loved to wake up to a good morning stretch. Plus all the Auxiliary women went, not only to gossip, but because Doc Clyde had told them it would be good for their joints. I had thought about going because I heard flexibility was good for the bedroom—­not that Jack Henry and I had slept together, though the thought wasn’t far from my mind.
    Still, I could do yoga for the just-­in-­case-­it-­did-­happen factor. And I would get to see my granny.
    â€œI’m headed down for my shift at the Inn.” Hettie pointed across the square in the direction of Granny’s place. Hettie worked at the Inn part-­time, helping Granny clean rooms, do dishes, or even cook. The Inn was packed for the Kentucky Cave Festival. Until recently, it was the only place to stay near the square; now there was a big hotel on the outskirts of town. Still, visitors loved the charm of the old Inn and Granny always provided plenty of entertainment—­herself. “I have to do the morning-­rush dishes. I told her I’d be there right after I did my committee duty of stringing the lights on the gazebo. My work here is done. Want to come?” She dusted her hands off and folded up the ladder. She propped it up on the gazebo and motioned for someone to come get it.
    â€œI can’t.” I pointed toward the front of the square. “I’ve got some business to take care of at the courthouse. But I’ll see you tomorrow morning for yoga and plenty of times during the festival.”
    We parted ways. Off in the distance I could see Cheryl Lynne Doyle setting up her little roach-­coach stand for Higher Grounds Café. Another good cup of coffee might just be what I needed to get me through the day.
    â€œYou have this city all in an uproar and here we are trying to get this festival ready for tomorrow night,” she said in her slow Southern drawl and smoothed the edges of the awning dangling from her childhood RV.
    Food vendors from all over Kentucky set up small booths or RVs along the perimeter of the town square so the festival-­goers could sample their food. For a price of course.
    â€œI had nothing to do with it.” I put my