Hopscotch Homicide (Zoe Donovan Mystery Book 16) Read Online Free PDF

for children. It was a group of ten-year-old boys who set the fire in which her husband died.”
    “That too explains a lot. I can’t help but wonder why she wanted to work in an elementary school if she didn’t like kids.”
    Pappy shrugged. “I don’t know for certain. I do know that although she didn’t care for children in general, she was very fond of Jim Bower. Maybe in a sort of weird way he felt like family.”
    I thought about what Pappy had told me. It explained why the woman worked as a cook at the elementary school, but it didn’t provide a clue as to who might have wanted her dead.
    “Do you know anything else that might help Salinger and me track down her killer? Anything more recent? Current relationships, hobbies, memberships?”
    Pappy thought about it. “We weren’t really close. I know she used to like to play bingo at the senior center from time to time, although I hadn’t seen her there in years. I had seen her dining at Rosie’s when I stopped in after church on Sundays on occasion. I think she liked to quilt, and I know she visited her husband’s grave every Sunday afternoon, rain or shine.”
    “His grave? I ran into Trenton Field yesterday. He told me I should have a chat with Mike Parks, the groundskeeper at the cemetery. I guess I should pay the man a visit.”
    “Are you sure you want to get involved in this?” Pappy asked. “You’re just home from your honeymoon, and you have a house full of kids who need attention. And to top it off, the transitional school you and Zak are developing is scheduled to open next week. Seems you have a lot on your plate already.”
    “Yeah,” I admitted, “I do. I plan to leave the investigating to Salinger. It’s just that Trenton seemed certain Mike might be able to provide some relevant information.”
    “You know,” Pappy added, “as long as you’re snooping around anyway, you might want to talk to Lilly Evans. I know she’s a member of the quilting group I seem to remember Evelyn belonging to.”
    “Okay, I will. Do you know if she’s coming to book club tonight?”
    “As far as I know.”
    “I’ll talk to her then.”
     
    Mike Parks had been the groundskeeper at the cemetery since before I was born. He was a short, thin man with a thin face and dark, beady eyes. He was in charge not only of maintaining the grounds but of digging all the new graves, which, everyone knew, he preferred to do at night. The man had a large, crooked nose and spoke in a deep voice. His stingy delivery of whatever it was he wished to articulate had always given me the creeps.
    “Afternoon, Mike,” I greeted the man, who was trimming the tall grass around the headstones.
    Mike turned off the trimmer and looked at me but didn’t say anything. I’d been involved in quite a few murders and funerals as of late, so I was certain he knew who I was.
    “I was hoping to ask you a few questions about Evelyn Brown, if this is a good time.”
    The man shrugged.
    “I understand she visited her husband’s grave every Sunday afternoon.”
    “Yup,” Mike answered.
    “Did she always come alone?”
    “Yup.”
    “Did anyone else ever visit her husband’s grave?” I asked.
    “Yup.”
    “Can you tell me who it was?” I wondered.
    “Nope.”
    “Nope, you don’t know, or nope, you won’t tell me?”
    “Yup.”
    I let out a long breath. This was getting frustrating very quickly.
    “So you don’t know the name of the person or persons who you witnessed visit Mr. Brown’s grave?”
    “Yup.”
    “Are we speaking about a single visitor?”
    “Yup.”
    Okay, that would make this ridiculous game easier.
    “And this visitor is male?”
    “Yup.”
    “If you don’t know the man’s name can you give me a description of him?”
    “Yup.”
    “ Will you give me a description?”
    “Tall. Thin. Dark hair. Midforties.”
    “Did he come alone?”
    “Yup.”
    “Did he meet anyone once he arrived?”
    “Yup.”
    “Will you tell me who he met