Eine Kleine Murder Read Free

support me until I regained the strength to continue. I could almost feel her strong hands under me, buoying me up and propelling me gently through the water.
    It was neither the mud bank nor a tree root I touched, though, and not with my hand. My toes met something oddly soft. I stood up in the shallows, reached under the water, grabbed some cloth, and more of the squishy stuff. A set of tympani roared in my head and I knew. Somehow I knew.

Chapter 3
    Soffocato: Muffled, damped; choked (Ital.)
    I tugged Gram’s body up the mud bank and left it under a tree, sobbing at her bloated face and those beautiful, brilliant blue eyes, now disfigured by hungry fish. The earth shifted, tilted beneath my feet, and I plopped down beside her, losing my balance.
    Reaching toward her, I shook her shoulder—was I trying to wake her? Her cold skin burned my fingertips and I jerked my hand back. Even in the darkness I could tell the skin was not alive and no longer bore the color of life.
    I reached over to touch her hair. Usually soft and snowy white, the curls now escaping from the flowered pink bathing cap were dank, clotted with lake weeds. We would never again brush each other’s hair. Never rub each other’s feet. Never hug, kiss. Never resolve our spat. My arms ached to hold her, but this thing beside me wasn’t her. She was gone. Gram was gone.
    My hands went to my face, but the stench from the body that clung to my fingers stopped me before I buried my face in them.
    I made it to my feet stiffly, searching in my panic for what to do next.
    I had to tell someone, had to—what do they say on TV?—notify the authorities.
    The only thing I could do was swim back to the eastern shore to call for help. The return trip felt twice as far. I began to fear I might not make it. My hands shook badly as I stood dripping on the beach and tried to dig my cell phone out of the pile I had left on the sand. The tympani still beat in my temples, almost blinding me.
    My cell phone wasn’t there. I’d lost Peter again! No, I remembered I had left it charging in the cabin. I stood for only a few seconds, still in shock, then swooped up my things. After casting one last glance across the water where Gram’s body was, I realized I had to get help in a hurry.
    The only thing I could think to do was run up the hill to Grace Harmon’s. A tall man I took to be her husband answered my frantic pounding.
    â€œGram,” I blubbered. “She’s… she’s …”
    Grace came up behind him. Warm light spilled around them into the darkness where I stood. “What is it, Cressa? What’s the matter?”
    â€œYou’re shivering.” The man reached a long arm around my shoulders. He guided me to their couch. Grace shook out an afghan from the back and wrapped it around me.
    I took a couple of deep breaths. “I found Gram.” Tears sprang to my eyes again. “She’s dead. She’s drowned.”
    â€œDrowned? Ida? Here? In the lake?” Grace’s blue eyes grew huge. She threw a glance at the man.
    The genial expression on his face disappeared into a frown. “What happened to her? Were you swimming together?”
    â€œNo, no. I went for a swim and she was on the other side. Underwater. Drowned.”
    â€œOh. My.” Grace sank, dazed, into the rocker behind her. It gave a couple of feeble rocks, then settled. The kind man sat beside me on the couch.
    â€œCressa, this is my husband, Al.” Grace murmured. “This is Ida’s granddaughter.”
    â€œI’m so sorry to finally meet you under these circumstances. Where is she now?” he asked, his voice somber.
    â€œI pulled her onto the bank. On the other side of the lake. I had to leave her there. We need to get her. I need to call nine-one-one, but I left my cell phone in the cabin.” I was dizzy. The world spun off-kilter.
    â€œI’ll call.” Al got up and walked to the