Read An Old-Fashioned Murder for Free Online

planted before I was born. We were very lucky not to lose them in the flood.”
    Kenneth nodded back at her. “I bet they put on a fantastic show in the spring.” He turned again to his wife. “Wouldn’t you like to have that for a garden?”
    Sarah’s drab eyes flashed with the barest hint of a spark. “Oh, I would.”
    He smiled down at her. “That settles it then.” With a broad, sweeping gesture of his arm and an almost thunderous voice, he declared, “We’ve decided to buy the inn.”

 
    CHAPTER
    4
    Daisy’s instinctive reaction was that Kenneth Lunt must be joking, but he wasn’t laughing.
    â€œBuy the inn?” Aunt Emily echoed slowly.
    â€œBuy the inn,” Kenneth confirmed.
    The smile to his wife had been replaced by rigid lips and a jaw set in sober determination. The man definitely wasn’t joking.
    â€œI’m not…” Aunt Emily hesitated.
    Her brow was furrowed, and her lips became rigid, too. She seemed confused, which in turn confused Daisy. Aunt Emily was the last surviving member of the oldest family in Pittsylvania County. Her kinfolk had originally settled the area, and the venerable Victorian was the final vestige of the once glorious Tosh tobacco empire, which had long ago crumbled into dust. The house had survived fires, earthquakes, tornadoes, and most recently, the flood. It was not only Aunt Emily’s ancestral home, it was also her heritage. She wouldn’t ever give it up—or so Daisy had always been led to believe.
    â€œYou’ll be well compensated,” Kenneth said. “Taking into consideration all the work you’ve had done recently, of course. I will need some more information on the plumbing and electrical updates. And,” he made another sweeping gesture with his arm, “we’ll take it fully furnished.”
    â€œWhat a generous offer,” Lillian remarked.
    Except it sounded much more like a demand than an offer. Or if not an actual demand, then at the very least an assumption that the matter was already a done deal. Ironing out a specific moving day and perhaps negotiating the disposition of a favorite knickknack was all that seemed to remain. Based on Kenneth Lunt’s assured demeanor, the inn and its contents were practically signed, sealed, and as good as delivered to him and his wife.
    Sufficient minutes had now passed that Daisy expected Aunt Emily to have overcome her initial shock and respond with a decisive rejection, but she didn’t. Instead she appeared earnest and thoughtful, as though the idea required serious contemplation.
    â€œSell the inn.” Parker shook his head. “I didn’t think I would ever see the day.”
    â€œTime marches on,” Lillian replied casually.
    Daisy shot her an irritated glance. Apparently it only marched on when it was convenient and agreeable to Lillian.
    â€œBut what would happen to my girls?” Aunt Emily mused, more to herself than to the rest of the group.
    That was precisely Daisy’s question. There was not the slightest doubt about the inn belonging to Aunt Emily and her having every right to do with it as she chose, but it was also the place where Daisy and her mama lived. Without it, they’d be out on the street—or more accurately, setting up cots and sleeping bags on the floor of the bakery—along with Daisy’s best friend, Beulah, who likewise called the inn her home. In addition, Beulah’s popular little hair salon occupied a former potting shed on one corner of the inn’s property. She was working there right now, Friday afternoon being among her busiest times. Daisy could only imagine how horrified Beulah would be at the prospect of losing her business.
    May drew a white lace handkerchief from the pocket of her skirt and pressed it between her palms. “Such a shame—” she began.
    It was Aunt Emily and not her sister who interrupted