Chapter 9
Letitia’s front room was small, but bright and cozy. Smiling, she invited Miss Georgia to sit in her rocker.
“What a nice surprise, Georgia,” she said. “I’m glad you decided to move into town. Your parents’ farm was a mighty long way out and you, being by yourself and all, were bound to get lonely.”
Miss Georgia smiled and nodded. “I believe I made the right decision. Abigail, you know, lives next door and Monroe Williams lives in the third house. So, I’ve got good neighbors.”
“I remember Monroe. What a nice man he was. We all thought he’d been killed at Gettysburg, so what a wonderful surprise when he turned up alive and well and came back home again.”
“I’m afraid it isn’t much of a homecoming,” Miss Georgia said. “The sheriff actually hinted that Roe might know something about Thurston’s murder.”
A frown creased Letitia’s forehead. “I heard that too and don’t believe it for a minute. No, I think it must have been somebody who was in need of a great deal of money and had been turned down for a loan, or somebody that had a grudge against Thurston. It takes an awful lot of hate to actually shoot another person.”
Miss Georgia pressed her lips together, then said softly, “Do you know anybody like that, Letitia?”
“Oh, I have my suspicions,” Letitia answered, “but nothing that I’d want to say out loud. I’d advise you, too, Georgia, to be careful. I’ve heard you’ve been asking a lot of questions, and the guilty person might not like that.”
Miss Georgia laughed. “Oh, pshaw, Letitia! Surely you don’t think somebody would mean me harm?”
“I certainly hope not,” Letitia said, drawing a deep breath. “Just be aware.”
It was on her way back home that Miss Georgia had cause to remember the advice Letitia had given her.
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