If curiosity killed the cat, it sat behind the wheel of a white Chrysler LeBaron the day Mrs. Friskers died.
I sure wish she’d looked before venturing into that street. The house was bloomin’ with a bumper crop of mice and she was the best mouser I ever had. But an ill wind was blowin’ that day and Mrs. Friskers died, leaving me with a houseful of mice and a cat to bury. Regarding the house, it was left to me by my Grandma Sarah, though Mama warned her not to do it.
That girl (Mama said) will never catch herself a man and she’s got no sense. The house will go to rack and ruin in her hands. Best leave it to Sylas. He’s got a good wife to care for it and money to keep it up with.
But Grandma Sarah, bless her, owed Mama some spite and she went right ahead and left the house to me. I’ll s
