From the Grounds Up

From the Grounds Up Read Online Free PDF Page A

Book: From the Grounds Up Read Online Free PDF
Author: Sandra Balzo
Tags: cozy mystery
redder. 'Well, actually, my name is Inkel.'
    Penn and Inkel. Didn't have quite the same ring.
    'Are you artists?' I asked.
    'Rebecca is a graphic artist,' Michael said, turning his attention to me. 'I'm a writer.'
    I love writers.
    Sarah, though, had lost interest in our neighbors. She was watching Pavlik, looking on as Eisvogel's body was loaded on to a gurney.
    As the gurney was wheeled to an ambulance, Pavlik glanced toward the train's crew, now being questioned by a couple of guys in suits. From there, his eyes swept past the clustering passengers to the depot and the surrounding stores.
    And then he settled on us.
    Sarah said, 'Bull's eye.'
    Sure enough. We were in his cross-hairs.
    She waved.
    'Feeling social all of a sudden?' I asked, mildly perturbed.
    Pavlik looked more than mildly perturbed. He looked downright put out. Which probably meant he wouldn't. Put out, that is. At least not tonight.
    Thing was, though, Pavlik was so attractive when irritated that any grief he gave me was almost worth it. He had the most beautiful sunny blue eyes when he was happy. But, when less than pleased with me or a suspect, which on occasion had meant the same thing, his eyes turned gray. Dirty Chevy gray, I called them the first time I met him. Now I thought of them as 'stormy'.
    When he was truly angry, though, Pavlik's eyes went so black you could barely make out the pupil at the center. It was a little scary, actually, something that probably came in handy when the sheriff was talking to 'perps' and 'skels'.
    Me? I'd tell him anything he wanted if his eyes got that stormy. Hell, I'd tell him anything, period, just to tangle my fingers in his black curly hair or, even better, run my hand over the buttery leather jacket he wore when riding his Harley.
    Sadly, though, the May weather had turned warm and the jacket had been retired for the season. Or so Pavlik claimed. I feared he suspected something unnatural was going on between his lambskin and me.
    'Who's that?' the redhead asked, rubbing her gloved hands together.
    'The sheriff, and he's trouble,' Sarah growled. She looked the other woman up and down like she'd just noticed her, too. 'Who the hell are you?'
    The woman answered Sarah automatically. Yet another thing I didn't get. The more audacious Sarah acted, the quicker people yielded to her will. It wasn't fair.
    'Christy Wrigley.' The redhead stuck out her gloved hand.
    Sarah just looked at it.
    I took it. Beat meeting Pavlik's eyes as he approached. 'Maggy Thorsen,' I told her. 'Are you with PartyPeople?'
    The grizzled man, who'd been avidly watching the action at the train, stiffened. 'Don't be ridiculous. I'm PartyPeople. Art Jenada, master caterer.'
    'You cook?' Sarah asked. I don't think she registered surprise that the little, round hairy guy cooked. I think she was astounded anyone cooked. Sarah and her teenage charges survived on carryout.
    Jenada bristled. 'Cook? I'm a chef. I ran the restaurant there,' he pointed at the station, my station, 'until a couple of months back.'
    I glanced at Sarah. Why hadn't she told me Jenada had been her tenant?
    'What happened?' I asked Jenada.
    'Him.' He nodded at the ambulance, its door still standing open, Eisvogel lying lifeless inside.
    'Kornell?' Sarah asked. She seemed to know as little about all this as I did.
    'You bet. Cra . . . I mean, your uncle talked your aunt out of renewing my lease. If Vi had a backbone she would have stood up to him.' His eyes narrowed. 'The minute it looked like I might be able to succeed, I was out.'
    'But Kornell didn't own the depot,' I said to Sarah. 'Why was he involved in the leasing?'
    'Vi let him,' Sarah said. 'I didn't become part of the day-to-day management until after she died, and then, whether Kornell liked it or not, it became mine.' She shook her fist at the ambulance like the old man was going to argue the point from the beyond.
    There was a crisp crack of thunder and I jumped.
    'Sorry.' The little redhead was not more than a foot
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