Love is Murder
by
Glen Ebisch
He turned to face her and the word "sharp" sprang to mind. He was all edges and angles; even his face was long and thin with hollowed out cheekbones. He smiled at her as she walked toward him, and the gauntness seemed to dissolve into an almost cheerful handsomeness. As Beth got closer, she noticed the absence of a wedding ring and estimated that he was around her age.
Don't get carried away, Beth warned herself. This kind of man is probably looking for a woman as thin as himself, not one with hips wider than her shoulders.
"I'm looking for a book on local history," the man said, becoming solemn again and turning his attention to the shelves.
"Any topic in particular?"
"Well, I'm especially interested in learning about old houses in Sandwich Village."
"The local historical commission has published a book on just that. It should be right over here."
Beth began to move past the man to pull the book off the shelf when she suddenly realized that the aisle wasn't quite wide enough. She felt her rear end bump hard against his leg as she maneuvered into position.
"Sorry," she mumbled.
"No problem."
Since he stood his ground and didn't make any attempt to run for the door to save life and limb, Beth figured he probably meant it.
He checked the index of the book she handed him. "I'm afraid I don't see the house I'm interested in mentioned here."
"Which house is that?"
"I think they call it the Nathaniel Osborne House."
"Well then, this is your lucky day, "Beth said , ready to tell him about the reopening.
He smiled. "I knew that when I first saw you." The man immediately seemed shocked at what he'd said. The smile disappeared, and he looked down at the book again as if he had stumbled on something fascinating. "I'm sorry if I offended you."
"I'm not offended," Beth managed to say through her amazement. She plastered an artificial grin on her face. "Stepping on my foot or questioning my intelligence would offend me, but I usually take compliments pretty well. That was a compliment, wasn't it?"
He nodded eagerly.
"Good, just checking." She stuck out her hand. "I'm Beth Rosswell."
He grabbed her hand with his own long thin one. "I'm Kyle Radmore."
"Well, Kyle," Beth said, saying his name just to see how it felt, "we don't have anything here on the Osborne house, but if you're going to be in town a couple of days, I can sure help you find out all you want to know."
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