This Old Murder Read Online Free PDF Page B

quieter.”
    The man in the doorway seemed to consider her words. “There were a lot of television vans here yesterday.”
    “Yes.” Was he the type of person who would be thrilled to have a bird’s-eye view so near a production, despite the noise level? She could only hope. She certainly wasn’t going to be able to hide it from him. “Courtney Castle is going to be taping some of the work next door.”
    “Yeah, Cheryl and me, we saw her name on one of the vans. Was she here yesterday?”
    Josie had watched the show the night before and knew the answer to this. “Well, uh . . .” She sure hoped these two weren’t going to be a problem, hanging around the work site, hoping to meet the celebrity.
    “Cheryl’s been shopping her little heart out trying to find something to wear on television. Costs a fortune, but I say what the hell? She’s happy. I’m happy. You know what I mean?” He winked lewdly. “What a vacation this is turning out to be. First it rains for a week, then we both get goddamn sunburns. But things are looking up. Courtney Castle is coming to town.” A grin on his face, he vanished into the house; the metal screen door screeched shut behind him.
    Josie shrugged and hurried back to work. Keeping the bystanders in order wasn’t her problem. The blueprints were in her truck. She needed to make sure the correct walls were coming down.
    A loud crash caused her to speed up. She needed to see what was happening and she didn’t want to waste time trying to explain whatever it turned out to be to the man next door. She dashed up the steps, across the small deck, and through the sliding doors into the combination living room/dining room/kitchen area that fronted the house.
    The noise had come from a mahogany room divider that had been torn from the rafters and now lay across a huge pile of debris in the middle of the floor. A handmade canoe, still attached to the ceiling, was swaying back and forth.
    “Is that thing secure?” Josie asked, stepping back in case it wasn’t.
    “Yeah. I sat in it to rip out the nails holding that thing together,” Dottie said, indicating the pile of mahogany.
    “Good. The canoe’s going to stay up there. But why isn’t that stuff in the Dumpster?” Josie asked a second question before realizing that she knew the answer to that one. “Where the hell is the Dumpster?”
    “Yeah, we were wondering that ourselves,” Dottie said, standing up and stretching out her back.
    “Damn, I’ve been using those guys for years. They’re always reliable—”
    The squeal of pneumatic brakes interrupted her statement. Jill, who was standing close to the window, glanced out. “They are reliable, if twenty-four hours late is how you define reliable.”
    Josie frowned. “Keep working. I’ll be right back.” She ran out to the huge tractor-trailer being maneuvered to the curb.
    “What’s going on?” she asked, grabbing on to the rearview mirror and swinging herself up on the cab’s runningboard.
    “Whada ya mean?”
    But Josie was distracted by the driver’s unusual attire. “Good heavens, you’re wearing a suit. Are you going to a funeral or getting married?”
    “It ain’t a suit. It’s a sports jacket and slacks. A double-breasted sports jacket,” he pointed out, flicking his lapel with a filthy thumb.
    “Someone change the dress code at Moffat Hauling?” Josie kidded.
    “You know, Josie, sometimes a man just likes to look his best.”
    “Fine with me as long as you’re going to unload that Dumpster in the driveway right now and as long as you’re going to pick it up a week from today.”
    “Scheduled pickup is a week from yesterday.”
    “But it was supposed to be dropped off yesterday and we paid for it to be on-site for one week.”
    “Tried to drop it off yesterday. Couldn’t. Too many of those television vans around. Not my fault. And it’s the busy season. We’re booked solid. Sorry, Josie, even for a good customer like you we can’t make any