Eine Kleine Murder Read Free Page B

where I knew Gram sometimes slept. I stopped. It hit me that the afghan I had crocheted for her in seventh grade was draped prominently over the foot of the daybed.
    She kept it all these years.
    The workmanship was nothing to brag about, but Gram had taught me to crochet and that was my first finished piece. I realized tears were racing down my face.
    I fingered my afghan, then punched Neek’s number into my cell phone and it leapt to life. There was only one bar, but maybe it would be enough.
    She answered on the fourth ring, as I was about to give up.
    My hello sounded weak to me.
    â€œAre you okay? You sound like you have a cold. Can I send you something? I have a great new cold cure. It’s a powder and you mix it with orange juice.”
    I wasn’t masking the thickness in my throat. I steadied my breath.
    â€œNo, I’ll be all right.” I didn’t really believe that. “But Neek, that big change you talked about earlier today?” My voice was still trembling.
    â€œWas it not a good one? I was afraid it might not be.”
    â€œOh, Neek. She’s dead. Gram’s dead.”
    For once Neek was speechless. I told her about swimming across the lake and finding the body, then about the Harmons, and about the ambulance taking her away. My voice became steadier as we spoke.
    â€œShe was so tough, Cressa. I didn’t think she’d ever die. So where are you now?”
    â€œI’m here, in the cabin.” I sniffed, feeling a little more human. “It really is cute. I like it, even without the piano. I wish I could tell her that.”
    Neek was silent for a moment. “You’re not going to stay there alone, are you?”
    Where else would I go? “I… I think so.”
    â€œAre you sure? Will you be okay? Should I come down?”
    â€œI want to stay, Neek. There’s no place else to go. And I have to make arrangements tomorrow. And I guess,” I was thinking ahead of my words, “she’ll be buried here. Next to Gramps in the Alpha Cemetery. No reason for you to come. I’ll probably be here for a few days.”
    I pictured her name carved next to his. The only thing missing on her side of the stone was the last date. Now it could be filled in.
    â€œBut, Cressa. How did she die? Did she get caught on something under the water?”
    â€œNo, I don’t think so. There’s nothing in the lake but fish.”
    â€œDo you really think she drowned? You’ve told me what an expert swimmer she was.”
    â€œYes, yes she is… was.” Neek had a point. How could Gram have drowned? “But she had to have drowned, had a cramp or something. That’s the only explanation. Isn’t it?”

Chapter 4
    Pastorale: An instrumental piece imitating in style and
instrumentation rural and idyllic scenes (Fr.)
    Neek and I talked more about the funeral and about the possibility that the blue car behind me had been Len. She was concerned he had followed me; I didn’t see how he possibly could have.
    This long day had started in another town, another world. I had received another nasty note slipped under the door of my apartment from Len. He couldn’t quite get it through his head that he was now a stalker, under a restraining order—no longer a romantic interest.
    For days I hadn’t been able to concentrate on my composition, the symphony I had to finish by the end of the summer. It was the only hurdle between me and my master’s degree in music. I was specializing in composition, and this was my thesis. My university teaching job required the degree. And the job was my stepping stone onto a podium.
    I was going to conduct.
    There was nothing I’d rather do. I’d known that since I was four. It was a hard profession to get into, but I was determined to do it.
    Lately, my fear of Len had been blocking my concentration. So had the emotional distance between me and my Gram. One rift had festered for a