Page 24 of Chosen Path
Kimberly’s ears pricked up. “What’s going on at Corrine’s?”
He shrugged and slurped at his coffee, then made a face. “Bitter.” He opened the sugar bowl and dumped a heaping spoonful into his mug.
“Watch that. Remember, Doctor Hart said your blood sugar was borderline. You don’t want to end up diabetic like your dad.”
“Ahh.” He waved his hand, shooing her warning away as if it were a mosquito.
“I’m serious, Ron.”
“I know, I know.” He raised the mug, then lifted an eyebrow. “Do you want to harass me about my blood sugar or do you want to know what I found out about Corrine?”
She gave him a sour look, but they both knew his tactic to change the subject would succeed.
“Out with it already.”
“There’s a county police car parked in front of her house.”
“And?” she demanded.
“And the officers are inside her house.”
Kimberly stared in wonder at her husband of thirty-two years. “You’re not seriously telling me that you didn’t get any details?”
Ron slapped his thigh with his free hand. “You should see your face.”
She waited for his guffawing to die down. “Okay, you’ve had your fun. Now, tell me.”
“Fine. There was a small group of lookey-loos, mostly neighbors, crowded around the front gate. I asked Frank if he knew what the excitement was all about.”
“Asking the mail carrier, that’s smart. Theyalwaysknow what’s going on.”
It was true. She’d even toyed with the idea of applying for the postmaster’s job when Cheryl Hillman had died, leaving the position open. But the tradeoff was too uneven. She’d gain firsthand access to all the information that came through the post office, but she’d be tied down by the regular hours and wouldn’t be able to roam around the village gathering her own news.
“Frank did, I’ll tell you that much. He said some out-of-town doctor called the police to report a dead body in Corrine’s house. Frank didn’t know for sure that it was Corrine’s body, but he did say she’d had one heck of a cough.”
His eyes widened and he gave Kimberly a dismayed look. She was so distracted by the out-of-town doctor bit that she almost missed it.
“What’s wrong?” she demanded.
“Didn’t you have a council meeting yesterday evening?”
“Yeah, so?”
“Did she cough on you? Are you feeling okay?” His worry was palpable.
“I feel fine, Ron.”
He raced over to the cabinet over the sink and pawed through the bottles of vitamins and supplements. He shook two large Vitamin C tablets out of a container and pressed them into her palm.
“It can’t hurt,” he told her.
She was about to retort that she took her multivitamin and her elderberry supplement every morning with a glass of orange juice and a piece of dry wheat toast, unlikesomepeople who drank sugary coffee and ate donuts for breakfast. But the concern in Ron’s eyes stopped her. No, it was more than concern. Ron wasafraid.
And in that moment, she knew he was right to be. The village council had gone down a path that left all of them—but especially her—vulnerable. She had to take care of herself.
“You’re right. Thank you.” She smiled to reassure him and dry swallowed the pills. She leaned over to kiss his cheek.
He pulled away, fast, and she stared at him. “Ron, I’m not sick.”
