Woodrow And Wren
The Rule Of Three - Part of Chapter 3
Chapter Three
The following morning Ivy’s full blander woke her with a sharp cramp.
On her side of the king-size bed Lois herself looked like an odd shape completely covered by the goose down quilt.
As Ivy tried to decide if she should return to bed or make coffee, the dining room clock struck eight then she caught a strong aroma of coffee from the direction of her kitchen.
Lois stirred. “Dear Heaven, do I smell coffee!” Her muffled moan came from under the quilt.
Ivy slid her feet into slippers then grabbed her fleece robe. “I think so. I’m going to check. If someone has broken in and made coffee, we won’t call police we’ll keep them.”
From the doors of her small sitting room, she rounded the base of the stairs then Ivy spotted Daniel through the open kitchen door. His curly black hair was flatter on one side of his head, the skin around both of his eyes was puffy, and he looked like Ivy felt.
“Did all of us die and this is hell?” Every hair on Ivy’s curly head was churned and stuck out as if caught in a strong wind.
“No, such luck. We’re all still breathing Earth air. Besides I don’t think there’s coffee in hell.”
“Thank you for making coffee.” Ivy leaned against her fridge. “I’m way too old for behavior like last night. The last time I had that much to drink was one weekend during my last year of teacher’s college. However, in 1974 my liver was forty-seven years younger.”
“Which mugs do you use?” Daniel spoke into the space above the counter with his forehead against an upper cupboard. The painted pale green wood felt refreshingly cool.
“Any of those tall red mugs to your left. They’re my Tim Horton souvenirs from Canada. I have six of them so you can fill two.”
“Fill three.” Lois stood behind Ivy in the doorway. “For mercy sake, fill three.” She moved to a stool at the small kitchen island then closed her eyes. The coiled braid of her waist length hair had shifted to one side with several grey strands no longer held in place.
The trio remained silent gathered around the kitchen island while they sipped fluid caffeine into their system.
With their second cup of coffee, they were still quiet, then cringed in unison when the clock struck the half hour followed by the front door chime.
Lois was closest to the hall doorway. She eased off her stool and headed slowly toward the front door. “After we burn that clock, we need to disconnect the front doorbell.”
The snow had stopped completely, but thick grey clouds tumbled by a durable wind gave a strong hint of a continued, uncertain forecast.
On the covered front porch Detectives Dale Chan and Margo Sanchez appeared as dour as Lois felt.
Though Lois had no idea how she looked, she got a fair idea from the startled expression on both faces of the local police officers. She opened the door wider then stepped to one side. “Last night I may have had a little too much white wine.”
“I may have had a little too much red wine.” Ivy stood at the foot of the stairs gripping the carved newel post.
“I may have had a little too much bourbon.” Daniel nodded leaning against closed doors to the large guest sitting room.
Detective Sanchez nodded. “Last night was a dire one for many people.” There was something bleak not spoken in her eyes.
“Unfortunately,” Detective Chan pulled out an electronic note pad. “We have a murder to solve.”
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[I’m leaving you at this point ‘here’ only part way into Chapter 3. This plot was a tricky one to research and so far, readers either really like the book or feel really uncomfortable with the storyline because it reads too much like ‘fact’ - which much of the research was…]
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