Nobody Can Say It’s You: A Hadley Pell Cozy Mystery Read Online Free PDF

it a potpourri kind of raffle prize that would interest a lot of different folks. Skippy might donate one of his handmade hunting knives. I’ll ask around to see who else might be interested in throwing some craft or handmade item into the prize pot. We’ll never know who might donate what until we ask around.”
    “Good,” said Anna. “I’ll start working up some ideas on how the website should look. Maybe we can make it interactive. Add some videos. Make it really colorful. Maybe add some slide shows and stuff. I want to get the kid’s attention. I’ll look around and get some ideas. Thanks for your input, Hadley.”
    “Talk to you soon,” said Hadley.
    Hadley turned around to locate Onus. He’d found a small sack she’d dropped on the floor and had managed to cram his big body inside it. Only his nose and eyes stuck out. That cat was in sack heaven.
    “I didn’t mean to drop that little bag,” Hadley said, “but if it makes you that happy, I’m glad I did. At least it made you forget your litter box pout.”
    “Reooow,” said Onus, contentedly.
    “Have your fun,” she said. “I’m going out in the garage and open a few cans of food for my supper.”
    Onus followed her with his big omniscient eyes. If she ever opened a can with the can opener in her kitchen, like normal folks, it drove Onus crazier than catnip. Was it the motor on the can opener that drove him bananas? She’d never figured it out.
    To avoid cat mischief, it was just easier to step into the garage, open her cans, and come back into the kitchen with them. At least, he let her cook the ingredients without bothering to notice. That was one thing about living alone. She could just imagine what Harry would say if she stepped conveniently out to the garage every time she needed to open a can.
    But such was life with a housecat.
    It was good to remember to choose your battles carefully, Hadley thought as the little motorized machine opened can after can.
    Once in a while, Onus might let you win.

Chapter Eight
    H adley got out her guitar and a pencil and a tablet. She really did want to contribute to Anna’s website. She’d write a song, she thought. That could be her volunteer contribution to Anna’s new project. She fumbled around with a few chords. Suddenly, inspiration struck.

    I dreamed last night I saw you there.
    The moonlight lit your silky hair
    Your face was pale. Your skin so cold.
    And here I sit, so far from home.

    I saw you standing by the fence.
    The mourning dove from woodland dense,
    His call is low. It brings me peace.
    I hope that you have found true rest.

    I cannot come to hold you near.
    So far away from you, my dear.
    You come to me when fires die.
    My love burns true on love’s true pyre.

    The meadows bloom. The spring has come.
    And I will make my way back home
    To mountain peaks that I love so.
    But you have left, dear. I’m alone.

    The fever came. It would not leave.
    And now my bitter heart just grieves.
    For your sweet kiss, I can but pine.
    I walk out to your grave and cry.

    Sweet mountain girl, you walk these pines.
    Your spirit still in me resides.
    I call your name deep in the night.
    But you don’t answer. I just cry.

    No, you don’t answer. I just cry.

    N ot bad for a beginner , she thought. She’d ask Hobie what he thought. He could spruce it up for her. Make it a zinger the kids would love to read. Maybe he’d play it, and Anna could make a video. Or better yet, Hadley thought, she could make a video. She had mastered Harry’s old camera. Well, if not mastered it, at least she’d gotten good enough at videoing not to make the viewer feel like they were riding on a rickety, old rollercoaster. Yes, she thought, she’d make a video. Maybe the Speckled Pups would agree to be on it, too. She’d ask her nephew, Skip. That would be a real nice addition to her library’s website.
    Onus sat on his haunches staring holes right through her.
    “Okay,” she said, reaching for his favorite