“I slid into the driver’s seat, started the motor, and pulled away from the curb. “How’d you get roped into this cricket stuff anyway?” Ashlee asked, popping a piece of gum in her mouth. “Esther belongs to a committee devoted to improving Blossom Valley commerce. The murder left her too embarrassed to attend the meetings and she asked me to fill in.” Ashlee adjusted the air vent on her side. “What’s she embarrassed about? She didn’t kill the guy.” I checked for traffic at the intersection and hu...ng a left. “I know. But Maxwell was killed on her farm during opening weekend for this fantastic spa that was supposed to help Blossom Valley draw in a tourist crowd. Instead, it’s attracted a bunch of negative press and some crackpots who want to see where the guy was murdered.” “Word on the street is that Maxwell was the victim of a mafia vendetta. He tried to swindle Freddie Three Fingers and got whacked.” I swung around to look at Ashlee, jerking my arm in the process and almost swerving the car into a tree.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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