Death of a Winter Shaker Read Free Page A

guy.”
    Gennie winced and nodded.
    Molly’s eyes went black. “Shaker?” she asked.
    â€œNay, don’t worry,” Gennie said.
    â€œWho was he? Did you know him?”
    â€œYea, but just by sight.”
    â€œGennie,” Rose called, “we need you now.”
    â€œWhat was his name? Tell me,” Molly whispered, her husky voice straining with urgency.
    â€œJohann Fredericks.” Gennie tossed the name over her shoulder as she raced back toward Rose. When she arrived, breathless, she turned to wave to Molly. The laundry basket lay overturned, clean work smocks cascading onto the grass. Molly’s running figure receded toward the fields behind the Children’s Dwelling House.
    *        *        *
    â€œThis is Deputy Grady O’Neal,” the sheriff said, indicating a tall man in his mid-twenties with straight brown hair that fell forward whenever he moved. “Did you get hold of Doc Irwin? Good. This here’s Gennie Malone, the young lady who found the body.”
    Everyone turned to look at Gennie, who straightened at being called a young lady.
    â€œWe’ll need her statement,” Brock continued.
    â€œI’ll stay with her while you question her, if you don’t mind,” Rose said. Her tone said that it didn’t matter whether they minded.
    â€œWe’ll look at the scene first,” Brock said. “Here’s Doc now.”
    â€œGennie, you stay here,” Rose said, placing a warm hand on her shoulder.
    â€œSorry,” Brock said. “We’ll need her to tell us what everything looked like when she entered the building, what she moved or touched.”
    â€œBut she’s only a child.” Rose’s arm went around Gennie’s shoulders and held tight.
    â€œThen she’s a child who found a dead body,” Brock said bluntly.
    â€œBesides,” said Deputy O’Neal in an educated voice that just covered a gentle Kentucky drawl, “she seems to be holdin’ up fine.” He smiled over at Gennie, who smiled back and shyly lowered her eyes.
    â€œLet’s go, then, but you stay close to me, Gennie.” Rose cringed inwardly as she noticed the glance that passed between Gennie and the young deputy. She would have to talk with Gennie soon.
    The Herb House door swung open easily and released the jumble of odors that Gennie had so welcomed earlier. But now the too-sweet smell was dominant, or perhaps she was more aware of it, knowing it signaled human decay. Rose scooted quickly through the door, holding her cloak so that it would not touch Deputy O’Neal, as he stood aside for them to pass.
    â€œMy guess is the deceased’s been dead for a while,” said Doc Irwin, Languor’s only physician, as they entered the second-floor drying room. He didn’t elaborate.
    Returning nausea made Gennie’s stomach churn, but she clenched her teeth to control it as Doc Irwin approached the table where Johann was laid out. He leaned over and peered at Johann’s head and neck. He lifted aside the filthy hands, unbuttoned the shirt, and examined the chest area, then replaced the hands in their funereal pose. Gennie saw Johann’s chest for just a moment before Doc Irwin moved in front of him.
    â€œStab wound,” he said quietly.
    Sheriff Brock leaned his head toward Grady. “Looks like that fella won’t be bothering Miss Emily anymore, don’t it?”
    As he stared at Johann’s body, a flash of anger distorted the deputy’s boyish features. In a moment, his expression cleared. He turned to Gennie.
    â€œMiss Malone—is it Sister Gennie?” he asked.
    â€œJust Gennie.”
    â€œOK, just Gennie, are you up to answering some questions?” He took a small notebook and a pencil stub from his coat pocket.
    â€œOf course,” she said, with what she hoped was spirit.
    Grady regarded her speculatively. “When you