Wedding Day Murder Read Online Free PDF Page B

do,” continued Cranshaw.
    â€œWell, it will set the record straight,” said Lucy, tapping her fingers on the desk.
    â€œSeems to me it will just reopen the whole issue. Might be better to just let sleeping dogs lie.”
    Lucy took a deep breath. “It’s our policy to run corrections when we’ve made a mistake. It’s important for our credibility.”
    â€œThe best way to improve your credibility would be not to make mistakes in the first place.”
    â€œYou’re absolutely right,” said Lucy, repeating herself. “But since we’re mortal we do make mistakes. That’s why we have the correction policy.”
    She glanced over at Ted and noticed he was chuckling.
    â€œWhere exactly will this correction be printed? On the front page?”
    â€œNo-o-o,” said Lucy, wondering if Cranshaw had ever read the Pennysaver . “On page two, where we always put them.”
    â€œI guess that’ll be all right, then,” he admitted in a grudging tone. “Nobody looks there anyway.”
    â€œThe correction will run next Thursday,” said Lucy. “Good-bye.”
    At his desk, Ted’s shoulders were heaving with laughter.
    â€œWhat’s so funny?” she asked testily. “That guy was impossible. After making all that fuss, he decided he didn’t want a correction after all.”
    â€œYou’re a bit touchy today, aren’t you? Not everything is about you, you know. I was laughing at this letter complaining about the new harbormaster,” he replied. “It describes him as ‘grimacing and hopping around like a jumping jack.’ ”
    â€œThat’s Wiggins for you,” said Lucy, remembering her encounter with him that morning. “He’s a weird guy. He’s got disgusting habits. That mustache of his is . . .”
    â€œAn alien life form,” said Phyllis, finishing the sentence for her.
    â€œThat’s small-town nepotism for you,” said Ted. “There’s only one reason why he got the job. His uncle and two cousins are on the waterways commission.”
    â€œSpeaking of the waterfront,” began Lucy, sensing an improvement in Ted’s attitude toward her, “how about letting me do a story on that lobster research project?”
    Ted groaned. “Lucy, you can’t even tell the living from the dead! Why do you think you can handle a science story with all that technical jargon?”
    â€œI think I can handle it. Especially since Toby is working on the project.”
    â€œSo he could explain all the really big words to you?” Ted’s mouth was twitching at the corners. This time she was sure he was laughing at her.
    â€œConsidering the high cost of a college education today, I sincerely hope so.”
    Lucy knew she could count on some sympathy from Ted on this point. His own son, Adam, was the same age as Toby and had just completed his freshman year.
    â€œOkay,” said Ted. “And while you’re down there, it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on Wiggins.” He paused. “So how are those obits going?”
    â€œNot going,” admitted Lucy, scrabbling around on her desk for the file folder. “Coming. Right now.”
    â€œGood. You know what I always say.”
    Lucy knew. “More people read the obituaries than any other part of the paper.”

Chapter Four
    â€œM emorial donations may be sent to the Tinker’s Cove Fire and Rescue Department,” typed Lucy, adding the final period with a flourish. It was a nasty job, but somebody had to do it. Now, thank goodness, she was done—for this week, anyway.
    A disquieting thought occurred to her. If she’d typed Henry “Bud” Abbott’s obituary, why hadn’t she remembered it when she wrote the story about the golf commission? A brain freeze? A senior moment?
    â€œPhyllis, tell me the truth,” she said. “Am I losing my mind?”
    Phyllis