Bones & Boxes: a Hetty Fox Cozy Mystery (Hetty Fox Cozy Mysteries Book 1) Read Free

saw.”
    “You came in through the front door, is that right?”
    I nodded.
    “Was it locked?”
    “Yes, Rose used her key to let us in.”
    “And nothing had been disturbed in the dining room?”
    I blinked. “No. Not that I saw. She was just lying there. Obviously strangled.” I took a quick sip of my coffee.
    “Is there anything else either of you would like to tell me?”
    “Actually,” I said, “I was wondering about the time of death. I don’t mean to sound ghoulish… but....” I paused to pull in a breath. “I wonder if we found her shortly after she died or had she been lying there for a while?” I knew it was silly of me, but it bothered me to think of that poor woman lying dead in an empty house.
    Oberton shifted in his chair. “The coroner hasn’t completed his examination yet. My guess is the killer was probably long gone before you ladies arrived.”
    Wise or not, I opened my mouth and said the first thing that popped into my mind. “Isn’t that curious? The murderer came in the daytime? I’d have thought it more clever to  wait until after dark.”
    “And your point is?”
    I felt my face flush. “The timing seems odd to me, that’s all. I think if I planned to kill someone, I wouldn’t show up when a neighbor or even someone casually driving by might see me going into the victim’s house.”
    Oberton nodded. “SI can think of several circumstances in which a killer might not worry about whether it was day or night. They might be a common visitor so their presence would raise any alarms. Or they might have posed as a delivery man. There are all sorts of devices.”
    Rose cleared her throat. “I don’t care when the killer arrived. I just wish we could have been here to chase the person off.”
    “Yes,” I agreed. But my attention wandered. I couldn’t help wondering what had happened in the past to trigger the death of this poor woman? Or who the person was who had so brazenly entered Carrie’s home in broad daylight to kill her?
     
    ***
     
    Whatever peace I’d hoped to gain on returning home that night evaporated the moment I stepped through the front door. My ghost was still there, floating a few feet ahead of me in the hall. How I wished he’d just sit down. That is assuming that he could, of course.
    I unwrapped my scarf from about my neck. “I see you’re still here.”
    “Where else would I be?”
    Blackie padded in from the dining room to join us, his face upturned, his green eyes focused tightly on me.
    “And you,” I said, returning his stare. “You were supposed to chase this thing away.”
    “There’s no need to be rude,” Andrew protested. “I’m a guest in your home. You’re supposed to make me feel welcome.” He folded his arms over his chest.
    “I’m sorry. Maybe I’m just not comfortable sharing my house with a ghost.” I shoved my gloves into my coat pocket, wrapped my scarf about the hanger, and placed the garments in the closet.
    Blackie glanced at Andrew and hissed. Then he circled between my ankles, purring.
    I smiled down at him. “Are you hungry?”
    Andrew shook his head. “You spoil that cat.”
    “Don’t be silly. Blackie’s my friend.”
    “It was too bad about that woman,” Andrew said.
    My head jerked up. “What woman?”
    “The one who was murdered.”
    My knees weakened. “What do you know about her?”
    “I know more about you and where you go than you can imagine.”
    I swallowed uneasily. “Are you saying you were with me? There, in Carrie’s house?”
    He shrugged. “I’m always with you.”
    A light dawned. If Andrew lived in my imagination, he’d know everything I’d seen, done, or said. That had to mean this ghost wasn’t real. A sense of relief rushed through me. If he wasn’t real,  I needn’t worry about him or what he said — or did. Then, I glanced back down at Blackie. “Treat?”
    That being Blackie’s favorite word, he instantly mewed and set off for the kitchen with me trailing close behind