This story started here. At that moment, Mrs. Jessup came in with a tray with four big mugs of hot chocolate. She distributed them, and Mary and I took a sip as Mrs. Jessup sat down on the sofa. … Continue reading
This story started here. Mrs. Jessup came to the rescue. Apparently deciding that her duty to a guest outweighed her annoyance at being bullied into opening her parlor, she said, “What’s your name, dear? And would you like some … Continue reading
This story started here. My employer and I had been comfortably ensconced in our warm, cozy room for the evening. We each had a cup of coffee, and she was smoking her pipe. Things were usually pretty informal in … Continue reading
This story started here. Once she’d finished her surveillance of the situation on the beach below, my employer had put down the binoculars, resumed her seat, finished her coffee, and, as far as I could tell, eaten her tiny … Continue reading
This story started here. The large deck across the back of Heron House looked like a stage set for some reason — like that moment when the curtain goes up and the actors are just about to start doing … Continue reading
This story started here. I was not going to start knocking on people’s doors and asking to use their phones. Not when they would hear what I was saying and then probably ask questions that I would not be … Continue reading