Maple Mayhem (A Sugar Grove Mystery) Read Online Free PDF Page B

gullibility but he hadn’t thrown me out bodily. I had to believe he wouldn’t this time. At least it wasn’t a definite. I hoped.
    Have you ever seen one of those illustrated storybooks with a drawing of the big bad wolf’s house? That was Frank’s place they used as the model. For years, before there was a town recycling program, Frank hauled things back from the dump and found ways to justify having them at his house. His house was sided with everything from old license plates to cast-off dryer doors. The entire place had been plumbed with used garden hoses repaired with duct tape when the need arose.
    He had a homemade composting toilet that adults wouldn’t speak of and kids on the playground whispered about more than how babies were made. While I admired his plans on behalf of the planet, I wasn’t entirely sure leaving other people’s garbage heaped up throughout the yard was actually a greener option than it sitting around rusting at the dump.
    If only Frank’s slovenly habits applied to his sugaring, I’d have had no need to visit. But it was one area he had shipshape. As much as people poked fun at Frank for his whacky ideas about JFK and aliens on the grassy knoll no one ever had a disrespectful word to say about his sugaring operation. Not even Kenneth.
    Even from inside the Clunker I could hear the shouting. Frank is not an easy person to communicate with under the best of circumstances. I had picked the wrong time altogether if he was angry to begin with. I hadn’t seen any other cars in the driveway besides ones driven by Frank and his stepdaughter, Phoebe. As much as Frank was not good to most people, he was good to Phoebe. Her mother died while Phoebe was in elementary school and pretty much everyone in town expected an aunt or grandmother to swoop in and cart her off to be raised by someone with some social skills and a working knowledge of child rearing.
    But no one ever came. Phoebe’s mother, Iris, had moved to Sugar Grove after her divorce with baby Phoebe in tow. She never really spoke about her family and folks assumed they must not be close. Phoebe stayed in the house on the hill with Frank and grew into a young woman. She was a grade behind Piper and me in school and tended to tag along with us like a little sister. I wasn’t as nice to her as I should have been, mostly because, as the youngest in my family, I so rarely had the opportunity to boss anyone else around.
    And with Phoebe, you could boss her around. She was sweet and wanted to do whatever anyone asked of her. It was so easy sometimes you almost wanted to provoke a reaction from her. I wasn’t always the kindest child and am embarrassed when I think about it now. I’ve apologized a few times but it never seems to make me feel better, especially since she acts like she doesn’t even know what I’m talking about.
    But today, from the noises I could hear penetrating all the way into the Clunker, Phoebe was not about to be bossed around. Frank was shouting and, for once, she was giving it right back. The back window that wouldn’t close let the sound of their voices in clearly. Whatever was wrong wasn’t my business but I didn’t want to stay if Frank was going to be even more unreasonable than usual.
    “I can’t believe you would do something like that. It’s my business, too, and you had no right to go making that sort of decision without me.” Phoebe’s usually pleasant voice was shrill and louder than I had ever heard.
    “I don’t regret it one bit. That’s no way to show appreciation for everything I’ve taught you.” Frank sounded like he did regret something and was being defensive about it.
    “That’s because I don’t appreciate this at all.” Phoebe whipped around the side of the shed and came into view. Her blond hair streamed out behind her and I could see her breath puffing out in little bursts in front of her like unspoken words. I lifted a hand to wave but she blew right past like she didn’t