They took Nancy’s car since Cathy had walked. It wasn’t far to the inn, but Nancy said they needed a getaway car just in case. Cathy hoped she was kidding.
When they pulled up to the Buttercup Inn, Cathy had a flashback of what had transpired there that morning. The place now seemed peaceful and welcoming. The baskets of pansies and geraniums that hung from the patio eaves swayed slightly in the spring breeze. Other than that, the place was quiet.
“Brody may have gone out again. I don’t think he’s going to heed the sheriff’s warning about staying put.”
“I doubt that,” Nancy said, “but let’s see.” She tapped lightly at the freshly painted white door. Sandra’s grown son, Paul, who attended college nearby often came to visit and help his mother spiff up the place. It was obvious to Cathy t
