Murder Is Uncooperative Read Online Free PDF Page A

them moved in when the co-op first got started more than thirty years ago. They're loyal members, but they're getting older. They're not coming out to work parties the way they might have done in the past. And some of the newer members just want an affordable place to live. They're too busy or just not interested in doing much around the co-op.”
    â€œOh. It's just that Les described it as a real community, with everyone involved. He made it sound so special.”
    â€œWell, like I said, Les sort of looks at the co-op through rose-colored glasses. It's not really like that. But it's not really a problem for the work party. We hire people to do most of the maintenance. But some of us like to do some gardening, and we do a bit around here from time to time.”
    She smiled warmly. “I always wanted a real garden, more than just balcony plants. I enjoy that. But I'm sorry if you got the wrong impression. You don't have to do this if you don't want to.”
    My mother had loved gardening. I hadn't shared that with her when she was alive, but somehow I wanted to learn more about it. Besides, it would be great to be outside.
    â€œIt's a beautiful day,” I answered. “Let's go and garden!”
    Mariana showed me where the rakes and gardening equipment were stored. There was even a child-sized rake Ben could use. By the time we returned to the front yard, Dave and Ben were back. Both looked pretty subdued.
    Dave muttered that he had to go get his colleague and went back inside the building. I introduced Mariana to my son. Ben looked down at the ground, a little shy with strangers.
    â€œYou look like a pretty strong guy,” Mariana said. “I bet we'll be able to get through the gardening in half the time, with you helping.”
    â€œI help Mommy and Grandpa a lot,” Ben answered. “I am strong. You want to see my muscles?” Ben flexed his arm, showing off his biceps the way his father had shown him.
    â€œWow, you are strong. Well, let's put you to work.”
    It was still early in the season, so there weren't a lot of fallen leaves. But we set to work with vigor.
    Ben spent most of his time raking up small piles and scattering them again, but we soon managed to create a reasonable pile.
    â€œYou know what the reward is for guys who rake up piles of leaves?” Mariana asked my son, who shook his head. “They get to jump in the pile!”
    She demonstrated, hopping onto the edge of the pile, scattering only a few of the leaves we'd gathered.
    Ben was more enthusiastic, throwing himself in the center of the pile and tossing the leaves around him. He did that a couple of times. Mariana and I raked the pile back together after each of his jumps.
    â€œYou're pretty good with kids,” I said. “Do you have children?”
    She smiled. “My son, and one grandson. But they're back east right now, near Ottawa. I don't get to see them as often as I'd like to but I'm hoping they'll move back to Vancouver soon.”
    Ben was still jumping in the leaves. “Come on, Mom. You try it,” he was saying, when his father returned.
    "Daddy!” Ben yelled. “We're raking leaves, and then we can jump in them. Want to watch me jump in the leaves? It's Mommy's turn now, but then you can try it!”
    There was a woman with Dave. The colleague he had mentioned, I assumed. She was what my father would call a pocket Venus. She was tiny, barely five feet tall, with soft waves of very light blond hair falling to below her shoulders. Her eyes were large and surprisingly dark, almost black, with delicate brows arching over them and thick eyelashes that surely couldn't be real.
    She was simply dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, but the jeans were obviously designer and fit her curves closely. She looked delicate, but her fitted T-shirt revealed deep cleavage and breasts anything but elfin. They looked as artificial as her eyelashes, I thought snidely.
    I knew I was being catty.