Pleasantly Dead
“Mr. Simpson reached to sweep another from her path.
“I don’t think we’re going to find anything, Miss Miller.”
“We haven’t even started.”
“The shoes could be anywhere.”
Miss Miller peered through the trees toward the inn. “My guess is they’re right under our noses.”
“Why would he remove his shoes?”
“Perhaps he thought they would make too much noise.”
“Why wouldn’t he simply wear plimsolls if noise were of concern to him?”
She sat down on a stump, rested her chin on folded hands, and looked dire...ctly into his eyes. Simpson blushed. The thick glasses only added to her beauty in his estimation, giving her a dreamy look quite at odds with her rather sharp personality.
“Of course, we’re assuming the victim came here with criminal intent,” she said.
“If he didn’t have criminal intent, why was he skulking around?”
“We can’t assume he was skulking.”
“If he didn’t have criminal intent, why didn’t he come to the front door?”
“It was the middle of the night.”MoreLess
“I don’t think we’re going to find anything, Miss Miller.”
“We haven’t even started.”
“The shoes could be anywhere.”
Miss Miller peered through the trees toward the inn. “My guess is they’re right under our noses.”
“Why would he remove his shoes?”
“Perhaps he thought they would make too much noise.”
“Why wouldn’t he simply wear plimsolls if noise were of concern to him?”
She sat down on a stump, rested her chin on folded hands, and looked dire...ctly into his eyes. Simpson blushed. The thick glasses only added to her beauty in his estimation, giving her a dreamy look quite at odds with her rather sharp personality.
“Of course, we’re assuming the victim came here with criminal intent,” she said.
“If he didn’t have criminal intent, why was he skulking around?”
“We can’t assume he was skulking.”
“If he didn’t have criminal intent, why didn’t he come to the front door?”
“It was the middle of the night.”MoreLess
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