Murder & The Heir Page 18
My puppy enjoyed every second running around, barking at anything that moved in between marking her territory. Her floppy ears begged me to caress them, and I paused from unpacking my car long enough to play with the puppy.
It wasn’t until I started folding my clothes to put them away that I realized I didn’t want those old things to contaminate my new life. I didn’t want my call center khakis or the threadbare cardigans I’d worn year-round to hang in the tiny armoire. I pulled out a plaid shirt I’d worn often and pulled it on. Working in the call center had given me a wider bottom and a bigger chest, and the shirt hadn’t fit right for some time, but I’d just worn it anyway. I threw it on over a tank with lipgloss and a slapped dash of eyeshadow over my eyes, not really caring how I looked. Not anymore. Instead of putting my clothes away, I ruthlessly culled them and found myself left with a tiny pile of clothes that I didn’t despise.
Was I being frivolous to decide to get new things? I couldn’t help but wonder what my mom would think. She would, I realized, rub her hands together in sheer, unadulterated joy and then make a comment about how it was long overdue. That clinched it. Plus, I rationalized wickedly, shopping would be a great way to check out the town. Ensure that this was where I wanted to live. We’d done enough research to know that Silver Falls was a booming town for tourism rather like Cannon Beach or Leavenworth. It pulled in visitors with the sheer quaintness. Double checking what we’d researched while I shopped would be useful especially if I swung by Jenny’s Diner and tried it out as a customer instead of a potential buyer.
I dug through the cabinets in the cottage until I found garbage bags and ruthlessly shoved in my rejects and then dragged all of those things back to my Forrester.
“Well puppy…”
She yipped at me.
“Want to go shopping?”
She jumped up, putting her paws on my shin, tongue lolling, and I scooped her up and let her lick my chin.
“Did you want a name?”
Her reply was a wriggling bottom until she was able to put her paws over my shoulder and nuzzle my neck.
I took inspiration from her collar, “How about Daisy?”
She nuzzled her nose into my neck and I took that as acceptance. Silver Falls was small enough that we walked from the cottage to the downtown area. As we did, I took deep breaths of salty sea air and had to acknowledge how very much I was enjoying being free from corporate life. I felt a bit as if someone had taken shackles from my ankles, and a part of me was terrified I was about to be caught and hooked back up.
We paused while Daisy did her business for approximately the 70th time and as we did, I tucked my hair behind my ear, letting my head fall back and my eyelids go red in the sunlight. I took in a deep breath and wondered yet again, was this really happening?
A door slammed nearby shocking me out of my daydream. I rubbed my eyes and glanced around, but I couldn’t see where it had come from. Perhaps it was just the wind given the way it was whipping through town. It had shut the door, but a moment later I heard, “Are you kidding me? You think I don’t know what this is about? You think I don’t what kind of person you are?”
I didn’t want to glance around, but the girl—her voice was distinctly feminine—was yelling. And it was small-town life right? Snooping is what people did…I glanced towards the shouts and saw a curvaceous girl with a dark ponytail and a green dress uniform get into a small hatchback and peel away from the curb. I couldn’t see much more and she was coming far too fast, so I scooped Daisy up and stepped quickly back. I could see tears on her tan face. The distress was so distinct that I had to say a quick prayer that there wouldn’t be an accident given she was far too emotional to be driving.
“Poor kid,” I told Daisy. I thought about how fast the girl had been driving and added, “Poor, stupid kid.”
Copyright © 2018 by Amanda A. Allen, Beth Byers.
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