High Stakes, a Hetty Fox Short: a Hetty Fox Short Story (Hetty Fox Cozy Mysteries Book 3) Read Free Page A

Mazor?”
    “I do. In fact, I’d say we’re getting good at it. I bet you’ve already pumped Megan for information, haven’t you? Come on. Fess up.”
    I felt my cheeks flush. “Well, I might have.”
    “So, what did she say?”
    I filled him in on what Megan had told me, which wasn’t all that much. But Andrew fixated on the bit about the car.
    “Okay,” he said. "I think we should go drop in on Mr. Brooks.”
    I scooped up the chopped onion and added it to the larger bowl. In the distance someone fired up a lawn mower. I stood there listening to its shrill whine.
    “Come on,” Andrew said. “Say something.”
    I cleared my throat. “I doubt a dispute over the price of a car triggered a murder. I can’t see it playing out that way.”
    “Stranger things have happened.”
    My cat, Blackie, strolled into the room and jumped up to the top of the fridge. He was excessively fond of my daily protein and liked to watch me while I worked in the kitchen.
    I grabbed a stalk of celery. “It sounds like a flimsy case to put forward to me.”
    Andrew floated nearer. “Let’s assume Megan’s right about that fight, and it was Brooks who killed Mazor. Who’s to say there isn’t some evidence in Brooks’ house that would convict him? Like a size nine shoe or even the murder weapon? If I went there, I could search through his entire house in short order. You know that.”
    “I’ll think it over while I eat.”
    “Oh come on,” Andrew protested. “That only gives Brooks more time to hide the evidence.”
    Regrettably, I realized he had a point. Plus, I knew Andrew was good about staying invisible. It was doubtful he’d be seen. There was very little to lose by approving this junket. So I nodded. “Okay, go ahead. I’ll be waiting here when you get back.”
    “Come with me.”
    I put the knife down and stared up at him. “What?”
    “You heard me. Come along.”
    “Why would I? I can’t skip through that man’s house unseen.”
    “No, but you can distract him. Guarantee he doesn’t accidentally spot me. Besides, it strengthens Oberton’s chances when he seeks a search warrant if you can tell him you were inside the house.”
    I don’t know exactly  why I agreed to the suggestion. Maybe, on some level it sounded like fun. Plus, I didn’t want any trouble over the search warrant. But after tossing a piece of plastic wrap over the two bowls of chopped chicken, I looked up at Blackie and said, “I’m sorry love, but you’ll have to wait for lunch until we return home.”
    Blackie reared back and sent out a hiss in Andrew’s direction. Then he jumped down from his perch, turned his back on Andrew and me, and with tail raised high in quivering disgust, he marched his way out of the room.
     
     
    ***
     
     
    Out on the sidewalk, I was struck again by how lovely the day was. Sunshine warmed my face. The scent of recently mown grass drifted around me. It was hard to believe that just a few hours ago I had come face to face with a corpse.
    Andrew and I walked quickly forward. We had only one more block to go now to reach our destination. I glanced about me at this dear neighborhood I now called home.
    There are only a couple of dozen or so houses on this side of the river. All vintage, but some are more so than others. My place was a sweet clapboard affair with a wraparound porch on three sides and a charming little cupola on the roof. It looked to be of southern origins to me. With its long, narrow windows reaching nearly to the floor, I thought it probably had been built sometime during the Civil War.
    But this place we walked toward now, I suspected, only dated back to the late 1800s, to the age of the robber barons. It was massive and  looked similar to houses I’d seen in the pristine and exclusive suburbs north of Chicago. Constructed of stone, this house stood tall and imposing in the mid-day sunlight.
    It was the kind of place that made people, seeing it from the other side of the river, assume