Avery’s friends believe her ex has left the area. But she knows better. Preston Vandergriff is not one to give up after a failure. Or several.
Her attention—um, worry—must be diverted for now. She’s escorting a group of people from midnight mass to Washburn’s pasture where the plan is to view constellations, eat a lot and close out Christmas Eve with a memorial for Violet Farmer’s husband.
The exuberant attitudes are ruined when, as they’re boarding the hay wagon to head home, the body of the local mailman tumbles from a cabinet under the bench seat. Fred is friend to all, well-liked, but also a busybody. He loves to talk and see peoples’ reactions.
Did one of his stories rub somebody the wrong way? Or is something more sinister at play? Could it have anything to do with the break-in at Violet Farmer’s home that morning. Or the pair of teens who keep hanging around her property? Worse, could they be working for Preston?
Genre: Mystery
Her attention—um, worry—must be diverted for now. She’s escorting a group of people from midnight mass to Washburn’s pasture where the plan is to view constellations, eat a lot and close out Christmas Eve with a memorial for Violet Farmer’s husband.
The exuberant attitudes are ruined when, as they’re boarding the hay wagon to head home, the body of the local mailman tumbles from a cabinet under the bench seat. Fred is friend to all, well-liked, but also a busybody. He loves to talk and see peoples’ reactions.
Did one of his stories rub somebody the wrong way? Or is something more sinister at play? Could it have anything to do with the break-in at Violet Farmer’s home that morning. Or the pair of teens who keep hanging around her property? Worse, could they be working for Preston?
Genre: Mystery