I’d just added Pete, my favorite butcher, to my list of possible murder suspects. A short but growing list. By their own admission, Mario owed both Pete Barker and Danny Boyd money. Follow the money. Was that advice I’d read in a detective novel? Or heard in a movie? If I’d known I’d be involved in a real-life murder mystery, I would’ve paid closer attention. Taken notes. With doom and gloom uppermost in my mind, I nearly bumped into Ned Feeney coming out of Gray’s Hardware. “Hey, Miz Piper,” he greeted me with his familiar loopy grin and tipped the bill of his ever-present ball cap. “Hey there, Ned.” I tried to skirt around him, but he blocked my path. “Heard you got a new man in your life. Whole town’s talkin’.” Shoving a stray curl behind one ear, I mentally counted to ten. “What ‘new’ man?” I hoped my voice sounded calmer than I felt. “Why, that nice Dr. Winters, the vet out on Old County Road.” “We had dinner is all. We both happen to like Mexican food.”
