Guest Author, Janet Chester Bly, guest post giveaweay and more #Books #Author
WHO … WHAT … WHEN … WHERE … WHY … HOW
Polly Eng – Chinese citizen of Road’s End; mother of Kam Eng; EMT; manager of apartments; caterer
Between Polly Eng and Maid- ie Fortress, they cultivated spectacular vegetable and flower gardens. “Road’s End could sell tickets for tourists to see them,” Cicely Bowers suggested more than once when the city park needed reno-vation.
Polly Eng and her daughter, Kam, the only ones in town besides Maidie who could grow healthy gardens with the short growing sea- son, bent over steaming woks full of stir-fried vegetables and pork. She steamed the best stir-fry and rainbow trout with Teriyaki sauce, said the citizens of Road’s End. Now Polly frowned at her daughter. “A car load of intoxicated juveniles drove around town last week light- ing M-80s and scaring our dogs. Fireworks got shot off our deck.”
“They thought it was Chinese New Year.” Kam blushed a pretty pink.
Up the hill beyond Lisl Monty’s white wood frame house, he passed Polly Eng’s gray stone and brick home where daughter Kam pulled clothes off a line. He returned her wave.
By the time EMTs Lisl Monte and Polly Eng
In her bedroom, mattresses from the high oak bed, made by Polly Eng’s local Chinese ancestors before the turn of the century
The Model T stopped. “Who will take care of the trailer park?” Tucker yelled back.
“Polly and Kam Eng said they’d look after it and we’re all packed.”
“It’s the Year of the Sheep. Polly Eng told us.”
She collapsed on the high oak bed made by Polly Eng’s Chinese ancestors before the turn of the century
They stayed for lunch when Polly Eng and daughter Kam brought fresh vegetables from their garden in a steaming wok with stir fry Teriyaki Rainbow Trout and a fortune cookie cake. Quite an outdoor feast for the workers and guests.
Reba opened the screen and wooden doors when she thought she heard a tap. She tried hard to conceal a gasp of surprise. She hadn’t expected any of this crew standing there.
Polly Eng quickly explained, “I’m here to observe only, as part of the Chinese Year of the Sheep. Seemed like this theme might fit in.”
She knocked at the apartment door, alert to any sign of activity. Finding no one stirring, she hiked up the hill behind the apartments to check with the manager, Polly Eng, at the gray stone and brick house with the only outdoor clothesline left in town. She resisted the temptation to swing close enough to feel the cool, wet sheets swirling in the breeze and smell the fresh, clean sweetness.
“Sue Anne’s gone all right.” Polly thumbed a gold necklace with a whimsical goat preening on an octagon shaped locket. “The funny thing is, I helped her do a garage sale last week. Everyone in the apartments contributed, like we did last year. Campers from the park bought lots of stuff. We all made a tidy sum. I couldn’t help ask questions when she had Norden carry out furniture and all her clothes into a U-Haul when it was over. She clammed up. Wouldn’t say a word.” She twisted the necklace chain round in quick, sharp jerks. “My daughter Kam was taking care of the kids. Sue Anne said Tim would pick them up and off she went.”
“Was Norden with her?”
“No, I’m pretty sure he returned to his store and she drove away like she was headed out of town.”
Reba’s stomach lurched as she tossed her purse across her shoulder and tromped down the incline toward the Outfitter’s store at the end of Main Street. Polly’s account made it sound starkly real.
Moments later, the town’s fire alarm blared and a scurry of people rushed the streets, peering around in excitement.
“Anybody need assistance?” Polly Eng yelled, as she held up her EMT bag, used to treat more bee stings, heart attacks, and pregnancy runs than natural disaster trauma wounds.
Champ hired Charlotta Mathwig and Polly Eng to cater the special outdoor banquet he planned in his backyard for the Runcie family reunion.
They pronounced her dead at the scene and EMT Polly Eng gently shut her lids.
Jace and the gals, plus Polly Eng, crept in the darkness toward the cellar, guided by flashlights cutting orbs of large circles at their feet. Reba and Pearl opened the broken double door. Rats and cockroaches scurried around in the sudden streak of light. They found not only Archie, but Abel too. Phone wire tied their feet together and hands behind their backs. Archie’s forehead bled from a gash and when they untied him, so did one of his arms.
Polly fashioned a tourniquet to help stop the bleeding.
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Contemporary Western Mystery with a Touch of Romance
Wind in the Wires, Book 1, Trails of Reba Cahill Series
Down Squash Blossom Road, Book 2, Trails of Reba Cahill Series
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