Page 23 of Chosen Path
“Oh, yeah. My sister waited until the turkey was carved and everyone had a full plate to drop her bombshell.”
“What bombshell?”
“That she and Joel were moving out of state for the schools. Which is fine, that’s their decision. But Kara and Joel wanted Mom to sell her house and move down there to live in a retirement home.”
“I can’t see your mother being happy about that,” Molly observed.
“That’s an understatement. She was livid. And so was Kara. She pitched a fit, gathered up the kids and all their stuff, and stormed out. As they left, Joel even threatened my mom, told her she’d do what they said or she’d be sorry.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, so like I said, you’re lucky you weren’t there. It was awful.”
“Family can be tricky, especially around the holidays.”
Hope shook her head. “Kara has always been strong-willed, like our mom. When Dad was alive, he kept the peace.”
“And let me guess, after he died, you stepped into the peacekeeper role.”
She laughed shortly. “I tried. I didn’t always succeed. Anyway, Kara and I haven’t been close for a long time. But I wonder if she feels guilty about causing that scene, especially since—.” She couldn’t say it. She tried, but the words were lodged in her throat.
“—Especially because your mom was dead two weeks later.”
Hope closed her eyes and nodded. After a long moment, she swallowed hard and looked at Molly. “Anyway, that’s not what we were talking about. So you think, what, Mr. Alden had a disease or something and my mom caught it? You know, he did take her belly dancing class.”
Molly gave her a wide-eyed look. “He didnot.”
She managed a genuine laugh this time. “No, he didn’t. But they were in the same bridge club.”
“Hmm. That’s a connection I didn’t know about. No, there’s no evidence that Mr. Alden had a contagious disease when he died. Still, it might be helpful if you could talk to Bodhi. You know a lot more about the people in this town than I do.”
Hope was pretty sure Molly was wasting her time with this death cluster nonsense. But something about the way the doctor looked at her with those warm brown eyes made her say yes.
“Anything to help.”
CHAPTERELEVEN
Kimberly was in the basement moving the laundry from the washer to the dryer when she heard the door upstairs bang shut. A moment later, Ron’s heavy footsteps thundered overhead.
“Take your boots off!” she hollered up the stairs.
The heavy footsteps stopped. A kitchen chair scrapped across the floor. She could just picture him up there, cursing under his breath as he removed his wet, dirty boots and tossed them in the plastic tray that sat right beside the kitchen door for the express purpose of holding the shoes.
She hit the tumble dry button and headed upstairs. She gripped the wooden banister tightly and placed her feet with precision and care on each stair. Taking a tumble backward and landing on the uneven cement of the unfinished basement floor was one of her greatest fears. A fall like that could do a lot of damage. A broken hip, a fractured skull … even a sprained wrist could be the beginning of a downward slide. She’d seen it happen too many times, and she knew how that story ended.
She reached the top step, flicked off the light, and walked out into the kitchen. “How was the library?”
Ron turned his attention from the microwave. She’d never understand why he stood there and watched his coffee cup rotate on the turntable as it reheated.
“Opened late,” he growled. He gestured toward the kitchen table, where he’d tossed the cloth tote bag full of books and DVDs. “But once Nancy Grant finally showed up, I picked up your holds and a couple new releases for me.”
Kimberly frowned. “Nancy doesn’t open on Thursdays. Hope does.”
“I know that. But she didn’t show up today. Nancy was all in a dither about it when she arrived.”
“Hmm.”
The microwave dinged and he retrieved his coffee. “Maybe Hope got caught up in whatever’s happening over at Corrine Wolf’s place.”
