Maida pointed out two large birds flying overhead with iridescent purple and green feathers, smaller than the geese from earlier. “Grackles. They may be nuisance birds at times, but they’re pretty. Sure hate the noisy Fourth of July fireworks. Earl Yaegle’s businesses sponsor the annual celebration here at the park. I guess if he’s arrested and his businesses go under, they’ll have to find money from somebody else. If they can.”
Maida ran her gloved hand across the gazebo’s lattice work. No splinters for her. “He helped pay for this, too. It makes me fit to be tied thinking he’d have anything to do with Oakley’s or Nanette’s deaths.”
Drayco suggested they walk along the path to warm up in the frosty air, and Maida readily agreed. He wished he’d packed warmer socks, his feet blocks of ice
