The Angel Whispered Danger (2003)
“I had made it about halfway down the stairs on wobbly legs when the attic door opened above me and I turned to see Augusta standing there. “Penelope had a bit of an accident with a rocking chair,” she said. “Wasn’t as sturdy as it seemed, I’m afraid.”
I was so relieved to see her there, I didn’t care if Penelope had broken every chair in the attic. “It’s okay,” I said, and sneezed again. “What are you doing up there?”
Augusta stepped back to allow me to enter. “With all your relatives descending, it seemed as good a place to dangle as any.” She made room for me on a straight-backed bench I remembered seeing in my uncle’s upstairs hall.
“Dangle?” I lifted a brow.
“Dangle, yes. To be suspended, such as when you’re only destroying time.”
I smiled. “You’re hanging, you mean; or hanging out.” I decided to pass on her version of killing time.
Augusta let that go by with a nod. “I see another carload has arrived,” she said, moving to the open window.
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