Corpses & Conmen (Rosewood Place Mysteries Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

sat at one end, surrounded by sturdy wrought-iron patio chairs. The deck would easily hold twice as many people as its current number of occupants, and it had the perfect view of the setting sun beyond the murky green pond. Rory had designed it to be both a peaceful place to sip morning coffees and a fun spot for relaxing with a cold beer. Most of the guests seemed to be doing the latter, though Alexander George only nursed a lukewarm glass of lemonade.
    Marie Robichaud sat at one of the tables, her rather large handbag perched beside her and a deck of tarot cards spread out in front of her. Kizzy listened intently as Marie read her fortune. From the look on Kizzy’s face, she believed every word that the woman uttered.
    “Do you see anything about my love life?” Kizzy asked, taking a large sip from her wine glass.
    “Oh, yes,” Marie purred, “I see a dark-haired stranger, a very handsome type who will try to sweep you off your feet.”
    Kizzy’s eyes lit up. “That’s much better than the cheating blonde I left in Myrtle Beach,” she replied, finishing off the wine in one gulp.
    Frank and Doris each nursed a glass of champagne, and Frank looked as though he might just drift off to sleep at any moment. Rob settled in a chair across from them and smiled amiably. He pulled out his phone and was pleasantly surprised to find that the house’s free WIFI reached the deck. He checked his social media while he sipped his own wine and nibbled the fried shrimp and cucumber sandwiches that he’d grabbed from the buffet.
    It wasn’t long before Doris announced that it was time for Frank and her to retire for the evening. “Goodnight, all! I guess we’ll see you at breakfast in the morning,” she added, patting Rob on the shoulder as she ambled past him.
    A mosquito buzzed near his ear, and he swatted it absentmindedly. “It’s the booze,” Alexander said suddenly. “Mosquitoes are attracted to alcohol in your blood. That’s why I’m sticking with lemonade,” he added.
    Rob was surprised that the man had spoken. He’d only heard him utter a handful of words since he’d arrived, and those had been sparse. “I guess I should have brought my bug spray,” Rob replied.
    “Citronella is effective usually,” Alexander replied robotically. “We should suggest that our hostess put those candles out here to repel them.” He fell silent and Rob struggled to keep the conversation going. Glancing around, he could see only Marie and Kizzy left, and he didn’t want to be stuck chatting with the strange woman with her tarot cards. Kizzy seemed nice enough, but Marie gave him the creeps.
    “Alexander, is it?” Mr. George nodded. “Do you mind if I ask what you do for a living?”
    Alexander sniffed loudly. “I work at the post office.” He offered no further explanation or detail, so Rob simply nodded.
    “What brings you down to Coopersville?” Rob could see Kizzy heading back up the hill towards the house, and Marie was making a beeline for the chair next to him.
    “I needed to get away for a bit.” Alexander rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands. “If you’ll excuse me, I think it’s past time I retired for the evening.”
    Rob checked his phone. It was a quarter to nine. “Okay, then, I guess I’ll see you in the morning.” Rob watched Alexander make his way up to the house. He tried to immerse himself in his phone, so he pulled up an ebook and pretended to read it.
    “Those things are so antisocial, don’t you think?” Marie sat down beside him, dropping her heavy bag on the deck with a loud thud. “I haven’t properly introduced myself, I’m Marie Robichaud, spiritualist and psychic. Would you like to have your palm read?” She took a sip from her wine glass and smiled, displaying slightly crooked teeth with a leaf of what looked like spinach stuck between two of them.
    Rob forced a smile. “Rob Reynolds, community news anchor.” He shook her hand gently, then nodded to his phone. “Just