A Mew to a Kill Read Online Free PDF Page A

like they were sorting through some of the items. I could see one of Gus’s deputies with plastic evidence bags.  
    Had someone set the fire on purpose? Didn’t photographers use a lot of chemicals when developing photographs? It seemed more likely to me that would’ve been the cause of the fire. It was probably just an accident.
    I figured Gus was probably just doing her job. She was a good cop and she was thorough, so it didn’t surprise me that she was going over the scene with a fine-toothed comb. Every once in a while she would look in my direction, her amber eyes drilling into me and causing me to shrink back from the window as if I was doing something wrong. Pandora watched the action with equal interest, shrinking back along with me when Gus turned her attention our way.
    I couldn’t tell much about what was going on in there, but judging by the way things looked, the shop had not been on fire for very long, which meant it must have started in the wee hours of the morning. Paisley would have been long gone by then. The shop would have been closed and unoccupied. I breathed a sigh of relief that the building had been empty and no one was hurt just as an ambulance screeched around the corner.  
    My brows pulled together … if no one was hurt, why did they need an ambulance?
    I was too far away to see what was going on. Where had I put those binoculars? I cast around the shop for them but came up empty, so I settled for squinting my eyes tighter to try to see better.  
    Gus bent over, out of sight, then stood up again with a camera in her latex gloved hand. She handed it to one of her deputies, who put it in a plastic bag. The EMTs where clustered in a pack, bending over.  
    Why were EMTs there?
    The answer to my question came in the form of a four foot tall, wizened old lady who pushed her way onto the scene—Gertie Sloan, the county medical examiner. She would only be there for one reason—there was a dead body inside that store.
    I could almost hear Gertie’s knees creaking as she slowly bent down out of sight. Who could possibly be in there? Paisley would have been long gone by the time the fire was started.  
    My mind went back to the art show judges’ meeting the day before and Maisie Beardsley’s parting words ran through my head. “ Paisley Brown’s work will be included in the art show over my dead body .”

    ***

    A movement at the end of the street caught my eye and I saw Bing, Josiah, Cordelia and Hattie making their way toward my store, their faces riveted on the activity over at Paisley’s shop. I knew they wouldn’t want to miss getting an up close scoop on the action. The Mystic Notch grapevine would be in full swing later today.  
    I was glad to see they had already been to the coffee shop and Hattie had an extra Styrofoam cup in her hand.
    “What’s going on?” Hattie’s face was pinched with concern as I opened the door to let them in.
    “I guess there was a fire.” I took the cup from her and pressed the plastic tab back. “Gus has been a wealth of information, as usual,” I added sarcastically.
    “Well, now, she has her job to do,” Bing soothed as the four of them crowded next to me at the picture window.
    Cordelia sucked in a breath. “Is that Gertie?”
    “Yep.”
    “You mean Paisley is dead?” Hattie asked.
    I chewed my bottom lip, standing on my tiptoes to try to see the body. It was no use—the bottom of the storefront blocked my view. “I’m not sure who it is. The fire didn’t burn very much of the store so it seems like it must have started only a few hours ago. Why would Paisley have been in there that early?”
    “Maybe it’s not Paisley,” Bing said.  
    “Did someone set the fire on purpose?” Josiah asked. “I mean, why else would the police be investigating like they are.”
    “I’m not sure,” I said. “Back in Boston, they would investigate every fire until arson was definitively ruled out. It’s probably the same up