Myrtle Street was a clone of Casper, with large two-story houses and small yards. Three-forty- eight was typical of the neighborhood, with a large porch that ran across the front of the house. The house was white with blue-gray trim. There was a tricycle in the driveway next to the garage door. Morgan wondered if the owners knew about the suicide.
She decided to stop by the library before going home. She had a couple hours before it closed which should be enough to check garage sale ads for the house. Apparently, Thursday evening wasn’t a busy time for the computer room, and she had her choice of computers. The young woman at the front desk went back with her and showed her how to use the search program for the newspaper archives. She hit the jackpot on her first query.
“Moving sale. Fur
