Page 4 of Promise Keeper

"It would have to be someone that nobody would suspect of doing something dubious," Logan said, leaning back and stretching out his long, lanky limbs.

"And right in plain sight," Roy added.

Johnna snorted. "Lots of people do things I plain sight and nobody takes one-second to notice. Most people have their faces planted in their phones all the time nowadays."

Anna tapped her fingernail on the table. "It would be more conspicuous if it were the middle of the night. If anyone saw someone dumping a bunch of bags at three in the morning, it would seem strange, but not in the middle of the day."

"But in the middle of the park?" Logan asked. "I see where you're going with your train of thought, and I agree, but now we have to ask ourselves who would be filling the trash can in the park without anyone thinking it was odd?"

Mia bounded down the stairs and through the hall to the kitchen. "What's going on? Did something happen?" She was still in her flannel pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. Her dark hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun.

"Did you just wake up?" I asked.

"No, but I haven't been out of my room yet."

"Guess who found another dead body," Roy said, jerking his thumb in my direction.

Mia gasped. "Who was it?"

"We don't know," I told her. "It's a skeleton." I relayed the story of Liam and the raccoon and the turned over trash can.

"Oh my gosh!" She ran over to Liam where he stood lapping up water from his dog bowl and scooped him into her arms. "That must've been so scary for you," she said to him. "Those rotten raccoons." He licked her nose.

"Yes," she said, cooing at him, "you are my brave boy."

"A brave boy in a new shirt," Johnna said, raising her brows and pursing her lips. "Where'd he get that?"

"That ain't one of yours," Roy pointed out.

"Monica brought it this morning," I said. "A woman in Connorsville makes them."

"A woman in Connorsville, huh?" Johnna grunted under her breath.

Monica was upstairs transferring her packed items in the box I'd crushed into a new box. I hoped her ears were burning. I had no interest in defending her choice of Dog Diggity dog clothes suppliers. There were more important matters to discuss.

I stood from the table. "We're not going to figure out this mystery sitting here. Let's get out there and start asking questions."

"Fine," Roy said, "I'll go to the Cornerstone and ask around."

"I knew you would," I said. The Cornerstone was a restaurant and bar owned by my mother's fiancé, Carl Finch. Roy spent the better part of his days sitting in the bar holding court with this fellow bar flies.

"Hey now," Roy said, "that's where those trash men go to unwind after a long day lugging around garbage. If anyone has information, it's them."

"It's not a work day," Johnna pointed out, "and it's half-past noon."

"All right, but the Pacers play tonight. They'll all be there for that," he said. "I suppose in the meantime, I'll check with Old Dan and Frank at the grist mill and stop at the train depot on the way to chat with Jim."

"I have a Daughter's meeting at one o'clock," Johnna said. "So, I have to scoot to that, but I'll see what I can find out from them."

The Daughter's of Historical Metamora were female descendants of the town founders. My mouther-in-law, Irene, was their Grand Poobah. I'd never tell anyone that I thought of her as mouther-in-law instead of mother-in-law, but nothing had ever fit anyone as well as that title fit her.

"Mia," I said, "are you going to the Daughter's meeting?" As an Ellsworth descendent and Irene's granddaughter, Mia was a legacy into the group of bossy women who ruled the town like a mini-mafia.

"Do I look like I'm going?" she asked, gazing down at herself. "I forgot all about it."

"You better hurry up and get ready. Your grandmother will have your hide if you aren't there."

Mia let out a long, pained sigh and stomped off down the hallway. She'd be seventeen in a few weeks, and even though she'd matured a lot in the past year, she was definitely still a teenager at heart.

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