Weeping Angel Read Online Free PDF Page A

dates,” the mayor muttered. “Must be why there was a mix-up.”
    Thank goodness. She hadn’t lost the piano. But neither had she won it.
    â€œI think Fra—” Emmaline Shelby cut her sugary voice short to amend, “That is—Mr. Brody,” she cooed, “should have the piano.”
    Amelia caught Frank’s wink at the laundress. She craned her neck to see what kind of reaction the audacious gesture had on Emmaline. Emmaline blushed, her cheeks turning the same shade as the number-three red dye she used to color linen ticking—a startling contrast to her alabaster skin and raven curls. Amelia was instantly reminded of a riddle young Daniel Beamguard had asked her: What’s black and white and read all over? If she’d known in advance how profusely the laundress could blush, Amelia would have answered: Emmaline Shelby.
    Emmaline tilted her head, suddenly overtaken with the need to fan her rosy face.
    Narrowing her eyes, Amelia faced forward again, not at all liking the way her insides felt like saltwater taffy—pulling her in all directions, and having no tangible explanation as to why.
    â€œThank you, Miss Shelby.” Frank smiled. “I appreciate your vote.” He leaned into the pulpit, resting his elbow on the sheets of Reverend Thorpe’s sermon. “How about a few more votes? Gentlemen, Pap will play the best tunes you’ll ever hear.”
    â€œI protest!” Amelia rose as gracefully as she could from the pew, clutching her purse by the snap frame. “This isn’t a political rally. He can’t drum up votes with coercion and promises!”
    â€œWhy not?” Mayor Dodge replied. “The president does.”
    â€œI think we should bring the matter to a vote,” Emmaline said, and Amelia had to keep herself from glaring at her.
    â€œI don’t think that’s necessary,” Amelia replied. “Aren’t you all forgetting Weeping Angel already has drinking music in Lloyd’s Palace?”
    Ed Vining voiced his opinion, “I wouldn’t call the asthmatic wheeze of that clunker church organ drinking music. Those pipes were condemned before Reverend Thorpe bought them to use until we could afford this new Cathedral Chapel organ here.”
    â€œBut the old one still works,” Amelia hastened to add.
    â€œOh, it works,” Ed whined. “But frankly, every time I hear Lloyd playing it, I’m thinking I ain’t ought to be drinking on account of the godly notes being bellowed out of that organ. It don’t matter Lloyd is playing ‘Oh! Susanna.’ It still sounds like ‘Onward Christian Soldiers’ to me.”
    â€œYou never told me that,” Lloyd burst in without amusement.
    â€œI didn’t want to offend you, Lloyd. You serve nickel beer.”
    â€œThat’s right,” Lloyd said crossly. “You won’t find Brody serving nickel beer. He charges a dime a glass.”
    â€œYou come over to the Moon Rock, Lloyd,” Frank suggested, “and I’ll give you a free glass.”
    â€œWell, I like that,” Amelia declared sarcastically. “This meeting wasn’t called to debate the price of beer. We’re supposed to be deciding where the piano should go.”
    â€œI say it should go to the Moon Rock,” Ed remarked. “It’s just what that place needs, it being so fancy, and all.”
    â€œAnd the vote is the only fair way,” the mayor concurred, “until you both can get an answer fromBoston as to whose piano this actually is. And then, they’ll ship out a second one.”
    â€œIn the meantime,” Grenville piped in, “the crate can’t sit on the Union Pacific’s dolly, so we best decide where it goes.”
    Mayor Dodge agreed. “Then let’s call a vote right now.”
    Amelia panicked. The situation wouldn’t have been so severe if the unmarried Frank Brody had been