Nobody Can Say It’s You: A Hadley Pell Cozy Mystery Read Free

prettier day if you put in an order. But it is getting late in the season.”
    “Well,” Hadley said, “if it turns nasty, we could call our little shindig the ‘late Halloween and Early Winter Wing-Ding.’”
    “We might have to,” said Hobie. “This time of year is so unpredictable. It can be sunny and nice one day and snowing and a three-pig night the next, but I’ll see what I can do. Maybe I can talk the pups into playing all afternoon. That should be worth something.”
    “If you could do that, Hobie, we could pack the gym with people if the weather’s rotten. Charge a small fee, and let Ruth have it.”
    “That’s a good idea,” said Hobie. “I’ll call ya tonight.”
    Hadley was glad that as talented as he was, Hobie’s feet were still planted firmly on the ground. This idea would surely help Ruth.
    “Maybe,” Hobie said, “we could raffle off one of my old guitars.”
    “Hobie, you gotta heart of gold.”
    “I’ll call ya and let you know how the idea goes over.”
    Hadley smiled.
    “I’ll be there,” she said.
    Generous, talented, and handsome. He was the kind of man a girl could get used to having hang around the house, she thought.
    “I wonder if he likes cats?” she muttered softly to herself.

Chapter Four
    H adley was sitting at her kitchen table the next morning drinking hot coffee and eating a cream cheese-slathered bagel when she heard the familiar “thud.” But this morning, it sounded differently. She got up and opened the back door. The paper tossed by Rocket Randy, Hadley’s paper boy, had ended up in the bird bath Harry had fashioned from a hollowed log. Hadley liked the natural look of the log birdbath, and the birds seemed to be attracted to its woodland design.
    Hadley retrieved the soggy mess from its watery grave and promptly tossed it into the trash.
    “Plan B,” she muttered.
    Wearing her dead husband’s ratty old robe, she took her coffee mug and wandered into the study. She booted up her computer and searched for any news of the dead person who so abruptly brought the festival to an end yesterday. Local television had only stated that the person was a male whose identity had been held pending notification of next of kin, and investigations were on-going.
    Bill had taped off the area around the body and put up a makeshift barrier to provide security around the corpse, which was loaded into the ambulance and taken swiftly away. With all those rags covering his head, it had been impossible to tell who the man was. And everyone looked alike zipped up in a body bag.
    Curiosity was eating her up. Who was the mystery man who had crashed the town’s festival? Was he a local? A tourist? Anyone she knew? Hadley wanted desperately to know.
    Onus, the big male tabby that Hadley had adopted, sauntered into the study.
    “Good morning, old man!” Hadley said. “Sleep well last night?”
    Onus scowled.
    “I know you think I should let you sleep on my pillow and curl up on top of my head. I’m sure you love the warmth and the feathery nest of pillow and my thick head of gray hair, but I really can’t seem to fall into a deep sleep with your tail tickling my nose.”
    Onus looked at her with a stern stare.
    Her argument was unconvincing.
    “Well, anyway,” Hadley said, “you still have the whole house to snooze the night away in. From the bathroom sink to the couch, wherever your little pea-picking heart desires. It’s your roost. You have my blessing. You know you’re welcome anywhere. Just not on top of my face, old bird.”
    Onus turned his back on Hadley and started grooming his unmentionable parts.
    “Let’s see here,” Hadley muttered to herself, her attention now on the screen. “If that don’t beat all!”
    She grabbed her cell. She couldn’t wait any longer.
    “Maury!” Hadley said. “You up?”
    “Well,” Maury said, “I did have to rise to answer the phone. What is it?”
    “Have you seen the morning edition?”
    “No. I was still in bed. Now,