The Icing on the Corpse Read Free Page A

popped it in his mouth, chewed slowly. “She thinks so. I don’t think it’s her day job, but she considers it a talent. What’s the fuss about? What’s wrong with Helga?”
    â€œSarah didn’t say. She looked like she was going to pass out. Then she said something was wrong and we had to find her. Betty shrugged it off, but now she seems concerned.” Stan huddled deeper in her coat. Now she knew why people were wearing groundhog costumes. The day was cold, overcast, and damp. She was freezing and wished for a hat. At least she’d had the foresight to bring gloves. February was not the best time of year for an outdoor event in New England.
    â€œHmmm.” Ray stroked his own beard. “Well, I’ll take a walk around. Anyone seen Gerry?”
    Helga’s companion, Gerry Ricci, was ninety-two to her eighty-seven. Despite their advanced ages, they were one of the most visible couples in town, always out and about, participating in some historical event or other town gathering. Gerry had bad knees and Helga had a bad hip, but they got around swimmingly. They reportedly met for breakfast twice each week and dinner on the weekends, but both maintained their own households in that true old-fashioned mind-set. Stan hadn’t seen him either and told Ray so.
    â€œI’ll put an APB out.” He winked at her. “We’ll get to the bottom of this. Don’t you worry. I’ll get Char on it. You know my wife. She can find out anything.”
    He wasn’t kidding. Char Mackey had a gift for gossip. There was nothing she couldn’t get people to tell her. Part of it was a gift, and part of it was her Southern heritage.
    Before he could walk away, a shout from farther down the green distracted them.
    â€œShe’s here!”
    They both turned to look. Stan hoped it was Helga, but realized the pseudo-groundhog making the announcement pointed to a woman unloading a pink carrier from an SUV parked on the road next to the green.
    â€œLilypad’s here,” Ray said. “You better run in and get your gift. Don’t worry, I’ll keep looking for our errant historian. She probably just got tied up at the museum. You know how she is when she’s working.”
    â€œHope so. Thanks, Ray. Speaking of missing people, have you seen Jake?”
    Ray pointed to the side of the church. “I think Betty asked him to pull some chairs out from the other entrance.”
    â€œThanks.” Stan darted back inside the nearly empty meeting room and went to retrieve her bag from under the table where she’d stashed it. Instead of leaving through the main exit, she went to the side door in hopes of tracking Jake down. But when she shoved the door open, she nearly hit a tiny woman on the other side. Tinier than Betty Meany, even. She had tight, silver curls and wore a long red coat that probably weighed more than she did. She was engaged in what looked to be a serious conversation with Carla Miller, who was leaning against the building. Neither of them looked happy.
    â€œOh, my goodness, I’m so sorry!” Stan peered around the door. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was looking for Jake.”
    The tiny woman glared at her, causing Stan to freeze in her tracks. Whoa. Not so friendly.
    Carla shook her head. “It’s fine. I haven’t seen Jake out here.”
    Stan mumbled another apology and a thanks. As she shut the door, she heard Carla say, “You could try to be nicer to people, Maeve.”
    She didn’t wait to hear Maeve’s reply. Instead, she hurried back through the basement and out the main door. Helga still wasn’t in sight when Stan stepped outside. Neither was Jake. Instead, she ran into the new mayor, Tony Falco. And her mother, who was always on Falco’s arm these days. Here in Frog Ledge, instead of her home in Narragansett, Rhode Island. Falco, a newcomer to town, had usurped the incumbent mayor last