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

with?”
    “Mrs. Brown.”
    Interesting. Mrs. Brown came alone every Sunday but also came at some other time and met up with the tall, dark-haired stranger. Chances were someone other than Mike Parks must have seen them together. Maybe someone recognized the man Mrs. Brown had been with.
    “Did this tall, dark-haired stranger come to visit Mr. Brown on any kind of a scheduled basis?” I asked.
    “Yup.”
    “Can you tell me what that schedule was, or is there anything you can tell me that will help me track down this individual?” I tried.
    “He’s at the grave now.”
    “Now?” I groaned. “Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place?”
    “Didn’t ask.”
    I rolled my eyes. I looked around the small cemetery and noticed a man in a brown jacket standing on the far side of the landscaped section of the old cemetery. I thanked Mike and headed in that direction. I certainly hoped the dark-haired stranger was easier to talk to than Mike had been because I was afraid I was at the end of my patience.
    “Excuse me,” I said to the man, who had a nice face and looked younger than I expected based on the clothing he wore. “My name is Zoe Donovan. I’m helping to investigate the death of Evelyn Brown. I wondered if you could answer some questions.”
    “Mrs. Brown is dead?” The man looked shocked.
    “Yes. I’m sorry. I figured you knew.”
    The man paled but didn’t say anything.
    “The groundskeeper tells me that you visit Mr. Brown’s grave often.”
    “Every month.” The man was white as a ghost.
    “How did you know Evelyn?” I asked.
    The man looked at me. “I didn’t. Not really. My wife is buried over here.” The man pointed to the grave next to Mr. Brown’s. “We met about six years ago. I happened to come to visit my wife at the same time she came to visit her husband. We didn’t speak. Either of us. We just stood side by side, remembering. I live up north, so I only make it down here once a month. I come on the third. My wife and I met on the third of June, we married a year later on the third of December, and she died two years after that on the third of April. After that first time we ran into each other Mrs. Brown started showing up on the third of every month to remember with me.”
    “And you never talked?” I asked.
    “Never. We’d stand side by side, remembering, and then after about thirty minutes we’d nod at each other and walk away.”
    Weird.
    “Can you think of anything that might help me figure out who might have wanted to kill Mrs. Brown?”
    “She was murdered?”
    Good going, Zoe. Way to break the news gently.
    “Yes, I’m afraid so. Yesterday, at the school where she worked.”
    The man frowned. I could see he was thinking things over. “I can’t imagine why anyone would want to murder that woman. She seemed to be such a compassionate, gentle soul. I can say that her husband’s wasn’t the only grave she visited. I noticed her visiting another grave when I came early one month.”
    “Do you know which one?” I asked.
    He looked around, then turned in a circle, as if trying to get his bearings. “It’s over here.”
    I followed him across the damp grass to a tombstone that simply said Jonah .
    “Do you know who Jonah was?” I asked.
    “No. Like I said, we never actually spoke to each other.”
    I supposed Mike Parks might know who was buried in this grave, but I really didn’t want to enter into another conversation with him.
    “Thank you for your time.” I smiled at the man. “And I’m sorry for your loss.”
    He returned to his wife’s gravesite and I went in search of Mike Parks. He was no longer trimming hedges, nor was he in the small cottage he lived in on the grounds. The mystery of Jonah would have to wait for another day.
     

Chapter 4
     
     
    Every Thursday evening for the past several years I had attended the book club sponsored by the senior center. Initially it had been held in the library, but two Christmases ago Hazel Hampton,