“How about pine boughs with a few nice red apples thrown in? That would look back to your harvest, and forward to the winter season.”
“Perfect. I’ll supply the apples, if you’ll tell me what you need.”
“Maybe a few real candles with hurricane globes—exposed candles always make me nervous, especially with greenery around. Too easy to tip over.”
“I hear you. Are we done yet?”
“Of course not. One big cake, or individual ones?”
“I told Seth I wanted an extravagant wedding cake. That’s the one thing I remember from most of the weddings I’ve ever been to. Can you do that here?”
“Of course I can. Flavor?”
“Whatever you do best. And like to make.”
“Red velvet cake? With white frosting and red sugar apples?” Now Nicky had a wicked gleam in her eye.
“Fine. Wonderful. How much is all of this going to cost us?” Meg said.
Nicky looked at her directly. “I wish I could say it’s on the house, since we both owe you so much. But the business can’t take that. How about I charge you what the ingredients cost us? Of course, additional waitstaff will be extra. And the liquor, of course. But our labor will be our gift to you two.”
Meg was touched. “Nicky, that seems more than fair to me. Thank you.”
Nicky grinned. “Don’t thank me until you’ve seen the bill. But I won’t load things up with filet mignon and truffles. Call it the best of New England, locally raised.”
“I love it. Is that all?”
“For now. I’ll send you over a proposal, and we can fine-tune it. How’s the harvest look?”
“Not bad, all things considered. We survived.” Despite a drought and an insect invasion and a small forest fire. “I’m hoping we can afford a pump for the well-head this year, which will make our lives a whole lot easier in case we get hit by another drought.”
“And Seth’s business?”
“Still kind of transitional, I guess. Plumbing jobs pay the bills, but his heart is in historic renovations, which are rarer. He’s still getting his name out there. And then he gives time to things like the overhaul of the Historical Society, which he did pro bono. Have you been inside yet?”
“No time. But I have to say, I was impressed that it came in on time and on budget. That’s unusual anywhere. And Seth must have had a hand in that.”
“He has a hand in just about anything that goes on in Granford.” Meg checked the time—nearly five. “Nicky, I must be keeping you from your own work. Don’t you have to prep for tonight’s meal?”
“I do, but I wanted to make sure I got things squared away with you. Like I said, we owe you big time, and I’ll do everything I can to make sure this event is something special.”
Meg felt the prick of tears. “Thank you, Nicky. That means a lot to me.”
Loud noises of clattering pans came from the kitchen, and Nicky stood up quickly. “Oops, gotta go. I’ll get you that estimate later this week, okay?”
“That’s fine. Thanks again.”
Outside on the porch, Meg took a deep breath of the autumn air. There was a hint of smoke—were people already using their fireplaces? Should she have hers cleaned? Did they have any firewood? Stop it, Meg! Just enjoy the moment, all right? The town green looked lovely. The light was already fading, now that it was past five. The steeple of the white church at the other end of the green soared into the deep blue twilight sky. Meg noticed that there were lights on at the Historical Society just down the hill from it. Was it still open? It shouldn’t be, but maybe Gail Selden was trying to catch up on cataloguing, or setting up the new exhibits. Renovation had been completed only a month or so earlier, and then they’d had to wait to install new shelving in the newly dug basement, and then they’d had to paint, and so on. So while Gail had gleefully assembled the society’s collections from the buildings across the town, where they’d been “temporarily” stored, some for as long as a quarter century, she still hadn’t had time to update the cataloguing so she knew what they had. But she also wanted to make the place welcoming, by arranging new exhibits that showcased the local historical objects. And somehow she had to squeeze in time for her husband and their two school-age children.
Meg decided to walk over and say hi to Gail, if it was indeed her. It could be one or another of the society’s board members, but she knew most of them as well. If it was Gail and she was alone, maybe Meg would have the chance to ask her about being matron of honor. Meg walked down the porch steps, then crossed the road and the length of the green.
Only a few of the lights inside were on—saving electricity?—and the door stood partially open. Meg rapped on it. “Hello? Gail?” she called out. There was no answering voice from inside, but Meg could hear a peculiar mewling sound. Human? Animal? She pushed the door open and stepped inside, and through the unlit foyer into the single big room beyond. And stopped in her tracks.
Gail was at the far end of the room, leaning heavily on an old kitchen table—the corner was given over to a mock-up of a kitchen circa 1900. The strange noises were coming from her, and as Meg took in the scene she realized that Gail was covered with blood.
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Books by Sheila Connolly
All of Sheila Connolly’s books
are available now at Amazon!
Once She Knew
“The Rising of the Moon”
Reunion with Death
“Under the Hill”
“A Necessary Death”
Relatively Dead Mysteries
Relatively Dead
Seeing the Dead
Defending the Dead
Watch for the Dead
Orchard Mysteries
One Bad Apple
Rotten to the Core
Red Delicious Death
A Killer Crop
Bitter Harvest
Sour Apples
“Called Home”
Golden Malicious
Picked to Die
A Gala Event
Museum Mysteries
Fundraising the Dead
Let’s Play Dead
Fire Engine Dead
“Dead Letters”
Monument to the Dead
Razing the Dead
Privy to the Dead
County Cork Mysteries
Buried in a Bog
Scandal in Skibbereen
An Early Wake
A Turn for the Bad
Writing as Sarah Atwell
Glassblowing Mysteries
Through a Glass, Deadly
Pane of Death
Snake in the Glass
About the Author
After collecting too many degrees and exploring careers ranging from art historian to investment banker to professional genealogist, Sheila Connolly began writing mysteries in 2001 and is now a full-time writer.
She wrote her first mystery series for Berkley Prime Crime under the name Sarah Atwell, and the first book, Through a Glass, Deadly, was nominated for an Agatha Award for Best First Novel; Pane of Death followed, and then Snake in the Glass.
Under her own name, her Orchard Mystery Series (Berkley Prime Crime) debuted with One Bad Apple, followed by Rotten to the Core, Red Delicious Death, A Killer Crop, Bitter Harvest, Sour Apples, Golden Malicious, and Picked to Die.
Her Museum Mysteries (Berkley Prime Crime), set in the Philadelphia museum community, opened with Fundraising the Dead, followed by Let’s Play Dead, Fire Engine Dead, “Dead Letters,” Monument to the Dead, Razing the Dead, and Privy to the Dead.
Her new series, the County Cork Mysteries (Berkley Prime Crime), debuted with Buried in a Bog and was followed by Scandal in Skibbereen and An Early Wake.
She has also published eight original ebooks with Beyond the Page: Sour Apples, Once She Knew, The Rising of the Moon, Reunion with Death, Under the Hill, Relatively Dead, Seeing the Dead, and Defending the Dead.
Sheila is a member of Sisters in Crime, Mystery Writers of Amer
ica, and Romance Writers of America. She is a former President of Sisters in Crime New England, and was cochair for the 2011 New England Crime Bake conference.
Contents
Cover
Watch for the Dead
Title Page
Copyright
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
The Relatively Dead Series
Excerpt from A Gala Event
Books by Sheila Connolly
About the Author
Watch for the Dead (Relatively Dead Book 4) Page 25