A Lonely Way to Die: A Utah O'Brien Mystery Novel (Minnesota Mysteries Series Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

he’d always be our dad, but he’s not around very much because of his music.”
    He followed a long scratch in the old wooden table with his finger. “He says they have to do a lot more gigs now because nobody’s buying music online anymore. That’s why he hasn’t come to spend any time with Grace. That’s what he said, but I don’t think he wants to. And he doesn’t really live at our house anymore, anyway, because of the divorce.”
    “Well, let’s not worry about that right now, OK? I’m sure you’ll feel a lot better after you have a chance to talk to him.”
    He nodded, but he wasn’t convinced.
     
    There’s a window in the wall of the loft that looks out over the museum. I pulled on a clean sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, and I was pulling on a pair of wool socks when I heard the bell over the front door tinkle. I looked out and saw Mort and Wally, the old sheriff and the new one, taking off their boots by the front door.
    I hurried down the stairs and out the kitchen door. I met them next to the Camelops, the extinct American camel with the silly-looking feet. There’s a loveseat in front of the camel, but we didn’t sit down.
    Snow was coming down at an angle. The flakes were small because it was getting colder. The roads were going to be pretty bad if it the wind got any worse.
    Wally brushed snow off his shoulder, and took off his jacket.
    Mort leaned his forearm on the camel’s muzzle and said, with his voice lowered out of respect, “We didn’t find any signs of foul play. No sign of a struggle, no bruises. She didn’t have any ID on her, but we found it in her car. It was parked on the north side of the diner.”
    “Her original name won’t be on the ID,” I said. “Her son told us she’s Mildred Price’s daughter, Gwyneth, but that’s not what she calls herself now. She changed it officially to her pen name. Sonje McCrae is a rather famous author.”
    We started walking back to the kitchen, but I needed to know something before we went inside. With my voice kept low and quiet, I said, “You aren’t still thinking she went out there and froze on purpose, are you?”
    They looked at each other, hesitating. They stopped walking. Mort looked off to the side, feigning interest in the Doedicurus clavicaudatus , a giant beast with the armor of an armadillo and a spiked mace-like weapon on the end of his tail. He’d seen it a thousand times.
    Wally ran his hand over the stubble on his chin. Then he pulled off his wool watch cap and whapped it against his thigh to knock off the snow. “It happens. Not often, thank goodness. It’s not at all like that Jack London story they made us read in school, where you just quietly go to sleep. It’s a stupid way to do it, in my opinion.”
    He turned his cap in his hand and shook his head sadly. “We found a note in her purse. It wasn’t signed and it wasn’t real clear, but it did say she ‘didn’t want to go on this way.’ Maybe she was starting to write a full suicide note but didn’t finish it.”
    I didn’t believe it. “She’s a professional writer, Wally. If she wrote a suicide note, it would be clear. Listen, don’t tell Gabe what you said, OK? He’s having a really rough time. If he thought she did this on purpose—”
    “Yeah, I get you,” Wally said. “I hate this part of the job.”
    Now Mort decided to talk. “You say it’s Gwyneth Price? Mildred Price’s girl? That’s why she looked familiar to me. But what would she be doing here? They haven’t spoken in years.”
    I told him a short version of Gabe’s story, and about the house with the wood stove.
    “The old Kramer place, I’ll bet,” Mort said. “I don’t know why they call it that, since the old lady was a Johnson. Carol inherited it from her grandma. Harold doesn’t have anything to do with the place, and it shows. It’s not far, but if the kid was carrying a baby, and just after dawn, that’s pretty amazing. He’s a fighter, that’s for