AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“And…Invertary has sights?”
“Well, there’s the castle, but anyone can see that from the road. And the loch, but you live facing it. You can’t visit the old mine at night, so that leaves the folly and Betty’s gravestone.”
“But Betty isn’t dead. She was in the pub just yesterday, hassling Dougal about something.”
“No, she isn’t dead, although there are many who wish it was otherwise. She just commissioned her gravestone years ago. Trust me, you’re going to love it.”
“This town just gets weirder and weirder.”
“Wait until you’ve been here for years, that’s when the really crazy stuff comes out.”
“I don’t plan on being here that long. One year. That’s all I’m giving Invertary.”
Pushing down the strange urge to try to talk her into staying longer, he opened the car. “Do you want to see the sights or not?”
“Fine.” She climbed in. “Let’s go out in the cold and dark to see gravestones for people who aren’t even dead.”
“Now you’re getting into the swing of things,” he said as he closed her door.
Chapter 4
MacGregor’s folly turned out to be yet another homage to the erect penis.
“Men really don’t have any imagination when it comes to architecture, do they?” she asked Logan as they stared at the phallic structure.
“I think the guy who built it might have had some issues. If they’d had Viagra back in the day, this would probably have been a bandstand.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and grinned at her. “We can go inside if you like. It isn’t locked.”
“Tempting, but no.” Agnes was beginning to think Logan McBride might be her catnip. Being around him was slightly addicting and definitely put her in a better mood. And it wasn’t only because he’d thought to feed her—a rare occurrence in her life, as she was usually the one who looked out for the people around her. Well, her sisters, at least. But Logan also made her have fun. He kind of cajoled her into it. And Agnes couldn’t remember the last time she’d had fun.
“Well, if you don’t want to check out the interior of the enormous stone penis, we’d better head over to Betty’s gravestone. Come on.”
He led her through the park to the graveyard, where Betty’s monument stood in all its glory. He’d been right—it was hard to miss. Not only because it had yellow uplighting, but also because it was ten feet tall. It depicted a suspiciously familiar man with long hair and a kilt, carrying a woman in his arms. No, carrying Betty in his arms.
“Mel Gibson could sue over this,” Agnes said. “Or the producers of Braveheart.”
“Would you sue Betty?”
He had a point. There was a reason the townsfolk called her Satan. Agnes had only met the ancient woman a couple of times, but she’d heard stories that would curl straight hair in a second.
“You want a photo with it?” Logan asked.
“Uh, no. Thanks.”
“You sure? I don’t mind taking it.”
“You’re enjoying this just a little too much, aren’t you?”
His smile made her stomach do flips. “Just a little.”
“Explain something to me,” she said, mesmerized by that smile of his. “Why does Betty wear a hairnet when she’s practically bald?”
“I think a more important question is why, when Betty took to dying her hair blue, didn’t she dye the hairnet to match?”
Agnes covered her mouth with her hand. “She dyed her hair blue?”
“Well, technically, she dyed her head blue. As you pointed out, she doesn’t have much hair.”
The girly giggle that escaped from behind her hand didn’t sound like her at all. Yet it was strangely freeing. “Why did she dye her head?”
