The Murder in Skoghall (Illustrated) (The Skoghall Mystery Series Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

Upstairs, then.” She led the way.
    In the front bedroom—future office—the phone guy knelt beside his toolbox with a soft grunt. The blue paper booties covering his work boots seemed ridiculous attached to his sturdy frame, like gluing cotton balls on the ends of two-by-fours. Shakti kept close to Jess’s feet, watching this man intently, occasionally wagging her tail like a cautious offer of peace. Jess decided to leave him alone with his wires and jacks. Shakti followed her. She pulled her bedroom door shut before going downstairs and through a wide arch into the living room.
    She paused in front of the two windows looking out onto the porch. The other exterior wall featured a fireplace framed with a lovely burgundy tile and dark wood mantle. Built-in bookcases flanked it. The walls were last painted a mint green, and who knew how many colors lay under that. Jess planned to paint this room before anything else. Shakti sniffed her way into a corner and sneezed, her little body convulsing. Jess smiled. “Snoutful of dust?” Shakti trotted over and pushed her head against Jess’s leg. She picked up the puppy and carried her through another arched doorway into the dining room.
     The dining room had two windows on each exterior wall to maximize the southern exposure. A chair rail separated the wainscoting from the poppy-covered wallpaper above it. Jess guessed the wallpaper was hung when the house was built, and was glad it had never been removed. What had surely been unseemly during one or more of the intervening decades was again appealing, having aged to vintage status. An equally old gilt chandelier with bell-shaped glass orbs hung at the center of the room, and a built-in buffet sat recessed in one interior wall, its glass-front cabinets enticing Jess to collect the sort of china and knick-knacks that would suit the house’s 1920s craftsmanship.
    Jess sighed, listless with a stranger in her home. She wasn’t the sort to stand beside him and chat, so that left keeping out of his way while maintaining a certain availability. She carried Shakti through a pocket door into the pantry, which passed through to the kitchen. A small window high in the wall let in natural light above a service counter. Behind the counter stretched the narrow walk-in pantry with cabinets and drawers offering abundant storage, something Jess had never had before.
    The windows here were smaller and the floorboards wider. An ugly cluster of bulbs tucked behind a frosted glass plate marked the center of the ceiling. The fridge and stove were nothing remarkable, but serviceable. A large farm table of scarred pine sat at the center of the room. Jess set Shakti down and ran her hand over the kitchen table. How many families had used this sturdy old thing to prepare their meals? She pictured women and their daughters at work, laughing together, shelling beans or chopping carrots. She gazed out the window over the old enameled sink and into the back yard. Here the yard was at its most shallow, the forest seeming to loom over the house at night when the shadows grew thick. “We should put a bird feeder out there,” Jess said. Shakti was too busy lapping at her water bowl to comment. Jess picked up her coffee cup and took a sip, considered making fresh and wondered if she would then have to offer the phone guy a cup. She decided against it just as he called out to her.
    “Miss?”
    Jess rattled the door to the right of the sink, checking the lock, before leaving the kitchen. “Yes?” She found the phone guy in the hall.
    He handed Jess her receipt and picked up his tools. Jess thanked him, though he had not impressed her as interested in pleasant courtesies. Still, she was relieved to have Wi-Fi again, and a landline. She had survived with spotty cell phone coverage and no internet for almost two weeks and was feeling like a recluse. Jess and Shakti followed him outside. They watched the phone guy turn his truck around from the porch, and Jess