A Christmas to Die For. Marta Perry

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A Christmas to Die For - Marta  Perry


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the protest that sprang to her lips. Tyler could strain his eyes looking through decades of her grandfather’s fine black script, and he wouldn’t find anything wrong.

      “That’s kind of you.” Tyler seemed taken aback by that kindness, but that was her grandmother. “Do you know of anyone he was on bad terms with?”

      A faint smile rippled on Grams’s expression. “It might be easier to ask with whom he didn’t quarrel. I don’t mean to speak ill of him, but it’s fairly well known that he argued with just about everyone.”

      “I remember a visit we made when I was about six. Certainly he and my mother seemed to battle most of the time.”

      “I’m afraid that was his nature.” Grams spread her hands. “I don’t know what else I can say. After his death, the neighbors were concerned about the condition of the farm. Several of them came to Fredrick about it, I remember that.” She glanced up at the portrait again. “If he did try to buy it, I’m sure that’s why.”

      He nodded, not offering any comment. It was what Rachel had told him, too, but she didn’t think he was convinced. He wouldn’t understand her grandfather’s almost-feudal-lord position in the community. Everyone, Amish and English alike, had come to him with their concerns.

      “Do you remember anything about the robbery and his death?”

      Grams moved slightly, and Rachel was instantly on the alert. This questioning bothered her grandmother more than she’d want to admit.

      “I know we were shocked. Everyone was.”

      She put her arm around her grandmother. “Of course they were.” She darted him a look. “I think my grandmother has told you everything she can.”

      Grams gave Tyler a level look. “I have, but if there’s anything else…”

      “Not right now.” Tyler seemed to know he’d pushed enough.

      Grams rose. “We’ll cooperate in any way we can. It’s what my husband would wish.” She turned toward the kitchen and walked away steadily.

      Rachel hesitated. She wanted his promise that this wasn’t going to be all over the township by sunset, but she didn’t want to say that where Grams could hear. She’d better make sure Grams was safely in the kitchen with Emma.

      “Would you mind sticking around for a minute or two while I speak to Emma? I could use some help moving that ladder.”

      He nodded, his expression telling her he understood what she wasn’t saying. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

      By the time she went out the front door a few minutes later, Rachel knew exactly how she should behave. She’d talk with Tyler very calmly, explaining the harm that could be done to her grandmother by careless talk. She’d make it clear that they’d already done everything he’d asked of them and that there really was nothing else they could contribute.

      She would not express the anger she felt. She’d extended friendship to the man, and all the time he’d been using her to pry into her family.

      He waited by the ladder she’d left propped against the house, his leather jacket hanging open in the warmth of the afternoon sunshine. He straightened when he saw her. “Is your grandmother all right?”

      “She didn’t like being cross-examined,” she said sharply, and then snapped her mouth shut on the words. If she wanted discretion from Tyler, she’d better try a little tact of her own. “She was telling you the truth.” Katherine Unger was not someone who’d lie to cover up her own or anyone else’s misdeeds.

      He gave her a slight smile. “I know. Do you think I don’t recognize integrity when I see it?”

      “I was afraid your judgment might be skewed by your need to find out about your grandfather.”

      “Look, I said I was sorry for jumping on you with it. I want to be fair about it.”

      Did he mean that? She hoped so. “There’s one thing you said to me that you didn’t mention to my grandmother.”

      He frowned. “What’s that?”

      He knew. He had to. “You said your mother didn’t think her father’s death had been adequately explained. You called it murder.”

      The word seemed to stand there between them, stark and ugly.

      He was silent for a long moment, and then he shook his head. “I don’t know, Rachel. That’s the truth. I can tell you what my mother said. What she seemed to believe. As to whether it had any basis in fact—” he shrugged “—I guess that’s what I have to find out.”

      “I hope—” She stopped. Would he think she was trying to control his actions? Well, in a way, she was.

      “What do you hope?” He focused on her, eyes intent.

      “I hope you’ll be discreet with the questions you ask people around here, especially anything to do with my grandparents. It doesn’t take much to set rumors flying in a small community like this.”

      “Your grandmother didn’t seem to be worried about that.”

      No, she wouldn’t worry about people talking when she felt she was doing what was right.

      “Grams can be naive about some things. If the rumor mill starts churning, the situation will be difficult for her. So be tactful, will you please?”

      “I’ll try.” He took a step back from the wooden stepladder as she approached it. “I’m not here to stir up trouble for innocent people.”

      “Sometimes innocent people get hurt by the backlash.” She bent to plug the end of the string of lights into the outlet.

      “I can’t let that stop me from looking for the truth.” His jaw set like a stone.

      “And I won’t let anything stop me from protecting my family,” she said. “Just so we’re clear.”

      “We’re clear. Does that mean you want me to move out?”

      It was tempting to say yes, but it was safer to have Tyler where she could keep track of him. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.” She started up the ladder, the loop of lights in her hand.

      “Thank you. And since I’m staying, I’d be glad to climb up and do that for you. I wouldn’t have to stretch as far.”

      “I can reach.” If she stood on the top step on her tiptoes, she could.

      She looped the string of lights over the small metal hook that was left in the window frame from year to year. Pulling the string taut, she grasped it and leaned toward the other side.

      She stretched, aware of him watching her, and pushed the wire toward the hook—

      “Wait!” Tyler barked.

      The wire touched the hook—a sharp snap, a scent of burning, a jolt that knocked her backward off the ladder and sent her flying toward the ground, stunned.

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