Buku Poison at the Bake Sale by Hollis Shiloh
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Poison at the Bake Sale by Hollis Shiloh

Author:Hollis Shiloh [Shiloh, Hollis]

Language: eng

Format: epub

Tags: sweet m/m romance, amateur investigator, older investigator, sweet gay romance, older sleuth, gay sleuth, gay cozy mystery, cozy mystery, cozy

Publisher: Spare Words Press

Published: 2019-02-12T17:00:00+00:00

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Poison at the Bake Sale by Hollis Shiloh

THE WHOLE DAY FELT vaguely like a nightmare. He was breathless and forgetful, stammering as he spoke to the cops, probably looking far guiltier than he ever had about anything in his life. He hated talking about Lenard. He sounded vague, couldn’t remember details, and probably seemed more neurotic than ever.

It wasn’t fair; he should be able to hold it together for this! But he couldn’t, and when the lawyer arrived, he nearly broke down and wept. The questions didn’t last long, and none of them were actually particularly accusatory, but just being asked about Lenard, about everything, hurt a great deal.

He couldn’t bring himself to mention anything about Lenard’s worst tendencies, and simply said it had been “a divorce,” and they weren’t really friends now and didn’t stay in touch. He couldn’t say that Lenard had hit him. Not only would those things have given him a motive, but most of all…he was just too ashamed. Maybe it would make him look more likely to have a motive if they came out later…but either way, whatever the case, it was impossible to mention.

 

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Poison at the Bake Sale by Hollis Shiloh

Author:Hollis Shiloh [Shiloh, Hollis] , Date: June 12, 2019

,Views: 55

Author:Hollis Shiloh [Shiloh, Hollis]

Language: eng

Format: epub

Tags: sweet m/m romance, amateur investigator, older investigator, sweet gay romance, older sleuth, gay sleuth, gay cozy mystery, cozy mystery, cozy

Publisher: Spare Words Press

Published: 2019-02-12T17:00:00+00:00
THE WHOLE DAY FELT vaguely like a nightmare. He was breathless and forgetful, stammering as he spoke to the cops, probably looking far guiltier than he ever had about anything in his life. He hated talking about Lenard. He sounded vague, couldn’t remember details, and probably seemed more neurotic than ever.

It wasn’t fair; he should be able to hold it together for this! But he couldn’t, and when the lawyer arrived, he nearly broke down and wept. The questions didn’t last long, and none of them were actually particularly accusatory, but just being asked about Lenard, about everything, hurt a great deal.

He couldn’t bring himself to mention anything about Lenard’s worst tendencies, and simply said it had been “a divorce,” and they weren’t really friends now and didn’t stay in touch. He couldn’t say that Lenard had hit him. Not only would those things have given him a motive, but most of all…he was just too ashamed. Maybe it would make him look more likely to have a motive if they came out later…but either way, whatever the case, it was impossible to mention.

Abe felt diminished, small and uncertain of everything, on very uneven ground, when he’d thought he was finding his feet again and doing so much better. Another murder…and Lenard this time. He didn’t know how to bear it, or what to think. Mostly, he could barely think at all, his mind swirling but his thoughts making no sense at all. It hurt so.

When the police and lawyer finally left, Gregory came and found him sitting on the couch and looked at him a moment, then stepped forward and opened his arms. Abe got up and moved into them gratefully. He felt so fragile and brittle. Gregory held him gently and didn’t ask any questions.

They went about the rest of their day by rote. Abe answered some emails, though it took several times as long as normal, and did some of his consulting tasks somewhat ineffectively. He kept finding himself confused and forgetful, taken up with other things…reeling, and feeling as if he was in shock.

He drank a great deal of coffee and didn’t respond when Ollie called him. He couldn’t bear to speak about it anymore.

Gregory gardened a bit, rather ferociously, really putting his back into it, his face hard and sweaty, grumpy-looking, and then he went off to work. It was silly, but Abe felt fragile and vulnerable here without him close by. Again, the neighborhood seemed to close in.

There had been another murder. His superstitions seemed all too real now, and the suburbs that he sometimes found intimidating and a bit frightening seemed downright dangerous—even evil. He was surrounded by empty homes, people who didn’t know one another or care to. Someone could jimmy a window, slip in, and slit his throat, and no one would ever hear him scream.

These unproductive thoughts kept him occupied far too well. He was glad when Gregory got home. Still, they barely talked. Gregory got cleaned up. They shared a meal and sat down to try to watch some television.

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