Small TownScandal
A Queer and Cozy Mystery
Chapter One
Don’t ask me why I spend three hours a weekchecking in on Agatha Vanderjadt. Sure she was my elementary schoolteacher three years running, but I didn’t like her then and I don’tparticularly like her now. That’s a terrible thing to say about afeeble old woman. In fact, it’s not the kind of thing I go aroundsaying. But it is the kind of thing I think quietly tomyself on frequent occasion.
Agatha never locks her door, so I walk rightin every Monday, Wednesday and Friday after my shift at thekennel.
Usually when she hears the door open, sheshouts out, “Don’t even think about tracking those muddy bootsacross my clean carpet!” So I kick off my boots walk up the stairsinto her split-level living room to find her sitting in her easychai
