The Best Laid Plans

Excerpt

The streets of Riverport were quiet, the silence so complete a person could almost reach out and touch it. Anyone with sense was sitting inside a cool house. I parked my car in the shade of a huge sycamore tree in front of Margaret's house on Spring Street and sat for a moment as I processed my idea of a sunburnt ghost. I'd never delved into the supernatural with my Emily stories, but it just might work. It would be fun to see how Betsy and Joey reacted. Finally I cracked the windows and got out. A walkway went around the house to the rear. Since I was expected, the door to use was the one off the kitchen. Only salesmen and the preacher came to the front door in Riverport. The door to the kitchen stood ajar, "Margaret, you in there? It's Jessie Schroeder." I took hold of the knob and pushed the door open. If she was as scared as Willy claimed, why had she left her door open? "Margar..." I started to call again, but before I got the final syllable of her name out, I knew she would not be answering me. Margaret sat slumped over the kitchen table, her forehead resting in a pool of blood, and a coffee cup on its side in front of her.