About the Author: Sharon Love Cook of Beverly Farms, Mass. is a cartoonist, columnist and author of the Granite Cove Mysteries. Granite Cove: come for the chowder, stay for the murder.
Martha Bullock placed the dirty dinner plates into the dishwasher. Holding onto her right hip, she straightened. That nagging twinge always got worse toward evening. Dr. Moss had suggested she resume her walks now that the snow was gone and something resembling spring had arrived in New England. She went into the TV room where Harold was dozing in his La-Z-Boy recliner.
“I’m going for a walk, dear,” she shouted over the man’s snoring. “Have you seen Chauncey’s leash?”
Harold didn’t awaken, but Chauncey the poodle sprang to his feet with a “Yip! Yip! Yip!” Standing upright, he danced in circles on the kitchen tiles.
“Here’s my biddy-boy,” Mrs. Bullock trilled, grabbing the dog’s leash from the broom closet. She attached it to his collar and the two headed for the door.
Outside, she paused on the neat front lawn. This was her favorite time of day, the period right before dusk. Everything slowed down; life’s urgencies didn’t seem quite so pressing. The soft evening air was calming. She gave the leash a tug and started down the sidewalk.