Guidebook to Murder Read Online Free PDF

said I was all she had, that just couldn’t be right. How does someone die without anyone caring?
    I went over to her desk and started shuffling things around. Checkbook, bills, advertisements where Miss Emily had circled the deals for groceries and household items, a lot of paper. She had been planning a trip to Bakerstown this week to shop, not someone who thought her days were numbered. She hadn’t even said anything about feeling off the last time we talked.
    A door slammed and I jumped. “Amy? That was quick.”
    No one answered. The house sat quiet. Too quiet. The hair on the back of my neck flared as I remembered Esmeralda’s words: “Sometimes they hang around.” I stood and walked into the kitchen. “Amy?”
    The back door stood open, the screen door to the porch unlatched. I walked over to latch the door, and the screen door flew open before I could touch the hook-and-eye lock. The door banged three times. Then sat still.
    I had to be seeing things. Esmeralda just had me on edge, that was all. I reached again, and the screen flew open again.
    â€œOkay, I get it. You don’t want me to lock the door. What do you want?” I held my breath, wondering how I’d get my answer. I should have let Esmeralda come by; she knew how to talk to these things.
    â€œWho says I want anything?”
    I screamed and turned to face Amy, who’d come in the front door. Amy’s eyes widened.
    â€œAre you okay?”
    I collapsed into the wooden kitchen chair and pointed to the door. “It’s open.”
    Amy frowned and walked over to the screen. She pulled it closed and put the hook into the eye to keep the door shut before closing the outside door and turning the lock. “The wind’s really kicking up out there. We should go around and make sure all the windows are closed before we leave, too.”
    The wind. All it had been was the wind. “I guess I got spooked.”
    Amy sat next to me and rubbed my arm. “You’ve had a bad week. You’re entitled to a case of the jitters.”
    I took a few deep breaths and smiled. “I guess.”
    â€œWe don’t have to do this today. We could just go find an all-you-can-eat buffet that serves alcohol.” Amy’s tone was light, but I knew she worried.
    â€œCome help me look for an address book or something.” I stood and nodded to the living room. “She has to have some relatives, somewhere.”
    The desk had a drawer for folders on the side. Pulling open the drawer, I flipped through the files. Each month had its own folder for receipts, bills paid, etc. Then there was a thick file labeled Council.
    I smiled at Amy and pulled the file out. Years of letters from the council and copies of her responses stapled to the front of each letter spilled out. Miss Emily’s handwriting got shakier throughout the years and her responses, shorter. The last one just said “Mowed!” with her signature. And as her letters shortened, the council letters lengthened. I read the last letter from the council, sitting on top. The letter gave her thirty days to clean up the property with an attached list of infractions or else further action would occur.
    A letter sat on top of the desk. The letter Miss Emily had told me about. But this one was on different stationery. I pulled out my notebook and wrote down the lawyer’s name and phone number from the top of the letter. I’d have a talk with him right after I called the mayor. “Amy? Who’s this lawyer? Why is the council using out-of-town lawyers?”
    â€œThey don’t. We have a Bakerstown lawyer on retainer. It’s a lot cheaper. Why?”
    I handed her the letter. “This guy’s out of San Francisco. If they have a lawyer on retainer, why wouldn’t they use him to send a property infraction letter?”
    Amy studied the letter. “This isn’t right. The council has the item up on the agenda to