Mystic Park Read Free Page A

burner under the kettle, then faced Benita. “I hope you snap out of it before we meet with Foster on Friday. If he sees you looking so sulky, he’ll think I’m not feeding you.”
    Benita smiled at the idea. “Aunt Helen, I don’t think anyone would think I’m missing meals.”
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” Her great-aunt’s thin, arched eyebrows knitted with concern. She joined Benita at the table. “Did you and Vaughn argue?”
    â€œVaughn?” Benita kept her expression blank.
    â€œYou remember Vaughn.” Ms. Helen spoke with the patience of a nurse, comforting an amnesiac. “He’s the nice young man you dated in high school. He teaches music at the university now. You have sex with him at least once every time you return to Trinity Falls.”
    Shock wiped Benita’s mind clean. “You know about that?”
    â€œThis is Trinity Falls.” Ms. Helen rose from her seat at the table and crossed to the cabinet beside her stove. “Did you really think no one would notice?”
    â€œPeople are talking about us?”
    â€œI don’t know about all that.” Her great-aunt took three mugs from her cupboard and set them on the counter. “Probably, although there are plenty of other things to talk about in this town.”
    â€œOh. My. God.” Benita’s gaze swept the kitchen without seeing the bright green walls and ivory cabinets that made the room seem spacious and cheery. “Why didn’t Vaughn tell me?”
    â€œI wouldn’t have.” Ms. Helen selected tea bags from a separate cupboard and placed one in each mug.
    â€œWhy not?” Benita’s gaze lifted to the back of Ms. Helen’s head. Her great-aunt had pinned her snow white hair into a neat, thick chignon.
    â€œWhat does it matter if people are talking about you? Your visits are so brief. You’re not usually here long enough to hear the gossip.”
    Ms. Helen checked the clock on the wall across the kitchen. Benita followed her gaze. It was a couple of minutes before noon. She puzzled at her great-aunt’s actions. Why was she preparing three mugs of tea when there were only two of them in her house? Was she right to be concerned about the older woman’s health and her ability to continue living on her own?
    Benita started to ask about the third mug of tea when the kettle came to a boil. Ms. Helen turned off the burner just as the front doorbell rang.
    â€œI’ll get it.” Ms. Helen gave Benita a critical look. “Try to look pleasant, dear. We don’t want our company to think I’ve been beating you.”
    â€œYes, Aunt Helen.” Benita stood to trail her relative to the foyer. Ms. Helen’s soft laughter floated back to her. Benita shook her head at her relative’s twisted sense of humor.
    Ms. Helen stood on her toes to check her peephole before releasing her locks. She stepped back, pulling the front door wide. “Alonzo, how nice of you to stop by.”
    â€œIt’s good to see you, Ms. Helen.” Their guest’s warm baritone rumbled across the threshold before he entered the foyer. Ms. Helen closed and locked the door behind him.
    Sheriff Alonzo Lopez was old enough to be Benita’s father, but that didn’t detract one bit of her appreciation for his exotic good looks. He removed his brown campaign hat, revealing his still-dark, wavy hair. His tall, lean, broad-shouldered frame was impressive in his sheriff’s uniform: brown shirt, black tie, and green gabardine pants. Or maybe it was his build that made the uniform look impressive.
    His dark, coffee-colored eyes smiled at her. “Welcome home, Benita. How are you?”
    â€œFine, thank you, Sheriff. And you?”
    â€œI can’t complain.” The understatement of the year, considering the happiness and well-being Benita felt radiating from him in waves.
    â€œNo, you can’t, considering you’re