“I wanted to go to bed. I didn’t want to think about the murder—or rather, the murders—any more. I still had tomorrow to survive. And that meant dealing with the Dinner-in-the-Park. Owen Sarkisian was never going to have the time to call the school officials for permission for us to hold it in the cafeteria, which meant I was stuck doing it. Leaving the sheriff talking to Gerda and Simon, I dragged myself up the stairs, let myself into the house and went into the kitchen. Next Thanksgiving, I sw...ore, I would be hundreds of miles away from Upper River Gulch. For several minutes I just stood there, glaring at the phone. I had no way of reaching anybody. Anyone high enough in the school hierarchy to have the authority to give permission also would have the sense to have an unlisted phone number. Frustrated, I tried calling a couple of party rental firms before admitting it was too late on a Saturday night and I hadn’t a chance of getting through. I sank onto the kitchen chair, and at once the manx Hefty scrambled up my leg, using all his claws, and into my lap.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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