Vintage Whispers (A Cozy Retirement Mystery Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

confused.
    “Please try to pay attention,” Opal said, losing her Pearl-patience for the day. “We returned to the main topic at hand. Our friend is dead. He left a note, or so you thought, but yet died unexpectedly.” A beat later, she added, “Since the postmaster delivered a truth package right to your front door, I won’t bother Johnny with a bunch of questions. If Oscar’s wife claimed he died in his sleep, who are we to say otherwise?”
    Mary Louise paced. “Three different stories in one small town? Something doesn’t add up. Kelly is a peculiar lady. She started shopping with us a few hours after Oscar died. And she’s been by the store at least twice a week ever since he passed.”
    “Maybe her husband left her some money,” Pearl suggested.
    “His estate probably hasn’t been settled.” Opal understood legal matters. “It’s only been a couple of months.”
    “Do you remember what Kelly bought?” Pearl asked.
    “Her first visit would be the one to recall,” Opal pointed out.
    “Let’s see…an antique hammer, a washtub, and a number of other items. It struck me as strange because Oscar was a designer—as Pearl so eloquently pointed out—and his house was more of an art deco style. If I’m not mistaken, she mainly made purchases from our country corner and vintage booth.”
    “We should have her purchases recorded somewhere,” Opal said.
    Sales at Vintage Whispers were detailed on handwritten receipts. They couldn’t exactly use a computer and promote antiques and yesteryear’s favorite wares.
    “Mary Louise, if you don’t mind my sayin’ so, it was very rude of you to try and talk to a widow about her husband’s death. I’m surprised she shopped with us at all.”
    “She volunteered the information, actually.” After some additional thought, Mary Louise added, “We were busy that day. Someone else in the community had just passed, maybe Clarence’s wife. A lot of folks stopped in for planters and inspirational gifts. We handled the floral arrangement orders for Dimwit’s Florist back then. Remember?” 
    “That’s right,” Opal said. “And I do recall that weekend. We hustled. We even had to call Pearl in.”
    “You act like I’m your last resort.”
    “Never,” Opal assured her, but she was just being nice. Pearl was a full partner, but outside of decorating and piddling, she didn’t add a lot to the store’s bottom line.
    “Who told you Oscar drank himself into an early grave?” Mary Louise asked.
    “You don’t want to know my sources?” Pearl was dead serious. “I have the more accurate story. Everybody knew about his problem.”
    “Pearl, the four people who keep the Five and Dime’s front bench warm, chain-smoking short-stubbed cigarettes do not constitute the whole of Bristol. Trust me.” Opal’s tolerance level was definitely on the fritz.
    “Well maybe not but Sheriff Littleton and I saw a lot of one another back then and for your information, he thought the ladies at the Five and Dime may have been sitting on some valuable details. And he promised to follow up with them, even said he would see if they had anything to add to the investigation.”
    “The only contribution those girls can make is toward the town’s gossip movement.”
    “Well he said…”
    “My point,” Opal sang.
    “Wait a minute,” Mary Louise said. “You were seeing Sheriff Littleton?”
    “For a few days. Then Catherine and Mark came up with their harebrained conspiracy theory to leave us behind like forgotten children at a crowded carnival.”
    “So now we’re part of the crazy faction,” Opal said, shaking her head.
    “We won’t go there.” Mary Louise didn’t think conspiracy theorists were crazy. They were opinionated, yes, but mad? Not by a long shot.
    “And we knew about Littleton.” Opal’s green eyes held an emerald glimmer. “We keep tabs on you.”
    Truer words had never been spoken.  
    “So what did Littleton say?” Mary Louise asked.
    “We