Chapter Seventeen
THE NEXT MORNING, BEATRICE was pulling a few weeds in the bed in front of the house when her phone rang. It was one of the church ladies who’d helped at Gerald’s funeral reception.
“I’m so sorry to ask this,” she said, “But I’ve left something at Laura Carpenter’s house yesterday. I was going to run by today, but my mother has fallen and broken her hip and I’ve had to drop everything. Is there any way that you could run by there? I wouldn’t ask except for the fact that it’s a pair of glasses. I take them on and off all day, and I guess I left them in the kitchen somewhere.”
That was perfect because Beatrice needed a good excuse to speak with Laura again, and she’d already brought food over. “That’s no problem at all,” she said. “Would you like me to bring them by the h
