The Missing Party-Girl: A Rags-to-Riches Cozy Mystery Romance, Nhys Glover [best inspirational books .txt] 📗

either mistake her for someone else or be desperate for new parishioners. She wasn’t interested in attending church, she’d had enough of those for a lifetime. But something more secular was a possibility.

“You must be Ms. Reynolds,” he announced jovially, as he reached her. “And this must be the poor beastie who fell afoul of a murderer. Rory’s pup has certainly grown up.”

So, he hadn’t mistaken her for someone else. He knew who she was. And who Jig was. This was what Dave had told her about the villagers, but it still surprised her.

It seemed a fair stretch to refer to Winsley as a murderer. Even if he’d succeeded in killing Jig, it wouldn’t have made him a murderer.

She held out her hand to the middle-aged man with kind eyes. “Hi, yeah, I’m Adie Reynolds.”

He took her hand and brought his other up to surround it. “Wonderful to meet you, Miss Reynolds. I’m Michael Watson, the vicar here at St James’. And I also hold services up the valley as well. Small congregations spread out. That’s the new life of a vicar. How are you settling in? Other than having someone almost kill your dog, that is. People around here are up in arms over that, I can assure you. Baiting dogs is criminal. Criminal!”

She nodded, pleased to have his support. “I’m settling in well. And Dave, the electrician, told me I would be welcome in the village. So today I decided it was time to meet more of my neighbors.”

His big beaming smile was back again. “Champion! Just what the doctor ordered!”

He laughed when he saw her stunned surprise. “For a very stubborn case of curiosity that has infected the whole village for decades. Ever since Minerva Reynolds, film star and socialite, chose our little community to join. If only distantly.”

Adie laughed, delighted by the man’s sense of humor. “Then I’ll do my best to help cure the contagion by answering what questions I can.”

“I would love to invite you and your companion to a special dinner at the vicarage. Would you be open to such an invitation?” the man went on, almost rubbing his hands together with pleasure. “My wife, Gillian, has a very bad case of the contagion. It would make my life so much easier if I were to get you to dine with us.”

Adie smiled and nodded. “Of course. Cage and I would be happy to share a meal with you. Just talk to your wife about a suitable day and we’ll be there. Minerva has set me a fairly heavy schedule, but I’m trying to build some down-time in where I can.”

“Excellent. I’ll be in touch soon then! Enjoy your walk. People in these parts are very friendly.”

As Adie walked on down the street there was a lightness to her step. Her first real contact with the locals on her own and it had gone well. The man hadn’t looked down on her or tried to force his religion down her throat. That had to be a good sign.

The houses in the village main street all sat right on the curb, with only a narrow sidewalk separating the houses from the road. Although there wasn’t a lot of traffic passing through the village, she’d still find it disconcerting to have cars and the occasional tractor passing her bedroom window so closely.

A few houses further along, she came to the pub called the Ram and Cock. The picture of a ram’s head facing a rooster’s head, both in profile, seemed a rather odd combination. She tried not to think of the sexual significance of the name.

The door was locked when she tried it, which was to be expected so early in the morning. Again, she looked at the signs. There were meals served at lunch and dinnertime, and on Friday nights they had live music. That might be fun. She’d have to talk Cage into trying it.

Where her new-found enthusiasm for socializing was coming from she had no idea. Maybe losing weight and leaving her past behind her was allowing her to reinvent herself as Minerva had wanted. She doubted she’d ever become a socialite like Minerva, but getting comfortable around people other than Cage and Dave would have to be a possibility.

She dawdled along a little further and looked in the front window of a ‘Charity Shop’, as she’d heard Thrift Stores called in this country. The display window was set up to look like a dress store, even if the dummy was a little old and the clothing obviously not new.

The door said the store was only open three days a week from 10 am until 3 pm. As it was one of the days it was closed, Adie moved on, disappointed.  Next door was a coffee shop that called itself Minnie’s Tea Room. Again, opening time was 10 am, which was an hour away. She looked at the small tables covered by checkered cloths and a long display cabinet that she assumed was filled with cakes and cookies for the patrons.

As she was about to move on, someone inside caught her attention. In seconds, a small woman in an old fashioned apron came out from behind the counter and rushed towards her. The way she threw back the glass door was a little bit daunting, especially for someone so tiny and birdlike.

“Oh, oh, you must be Adeline Reynolds! I’m sorry we’re closed, but please come back later. Your first cup of tea, or should I say coffee, will be on the house. How’s our Jig doing?”

The woman spoke quickly, giving Adie no time to answer. Her Yorkshire accent was so broad Adie struggled to understand her. A darting hand snaked out to pat Jig’s head, but the dog edged away from the unexpected contact. He was still half-feral, even though he was now remarkably well-trained.

“You poor dear! Just