The day had been long enough as it was, what with the LCIL meeting in the morning, then finding Stanley Duncan tearing up Eleanora’s house, not to mention Biddle’s dropping in at Jean’s to tell them Eleanora had been poisoned and then insinuating that Jean was his prime suspect. And, last but certainly not least, there was that scene at the harbor with Floyd Baskin’s troupe duking it out with the local fishermen. What, she wondered, was happening to this town? River Bend was usually so quiet. Well, quiet by today’s standards. Save for the occasional potlucks and auctions, church meetings, bridge games and bingo, not much went on to surprise its residents from week to week. Until Frank Biddle had dropped the bomb about Eleanora being murdered. Helen still couldn’t believe it. If she closed her eyes, she could picture Eleanora’s face and the fear in her expression as she’d pulled her out of the way of the speeding car.
