Free Two Guys Detective Agency by Stephanie Bond

room was lined wall to wall
    with furniture and building supplies — the place was a tetanus shot waiting to happen.
    She walked into the kitchen and blinked against the harsh overhead light. Damn, the injection sites in
    her face were sore. Jarrod and Maggie were sitting at the table, eating from mismatched plates. Their jowly
    dog stood with its paws on the window sill, staring out.
    “What’s his problem?” Octavia snapped.
    “A squirrel keeps stealing the birdseed,” Jarrod said.
    “Wow, crime is rampant around here,” Octavia said dryly. She found a drinking glass rather quickly
    since the cabinets didn’t have doors on them. The cold water faucet was more tricky — there was some
    kind of tool attached to it.
    “You have to turn the wrench,” Jarrod supplied.
    She pulled the tool toward her and filled her glass. “Where does your mother keep the aspirin?”
    “In the cabinet over the refrigerator.”
    She rummaged through bottles of cough syrup and chewable vitamins until she found the aspirin,
    shook out a few into her hand, then tossed them back. She emptied the water glass with a long gulp, then
    turned around to find the kids staring at her.
    “What?” she demanded.
    “You look funny,” Jarrod said.
    Maggie wrinkled her pug nose. “And you smell yucky.”
    “Too bad,” Octavia said, then held up the pink bear. “I guess this is yours?”
    Maggie nodded exuberantly. “I thought you might want a friend.”
    Dammit, she was a sly little chubby thing. Octavia narrowed her eyes. “I have plenty of friends, thanks.
    Where’s your mother?”
    “We’re letting her sleep in,” Jarrod said. “We got ourselves ready for school.”
    “Interesting outfit,” she said to Maggie, who looked like an acid trip.
    Maggie dimpled. “Thank you.”
    “I don’t guess you made coffee?” Octavia asked.
    They shook their heads no.
    “There’s the coffeemaker,” Jarrod said, pointing to a dated contraption sitting on the counter.
    Fine, except she didn’t feel like figuring out how to work it. Her stomach growled. She walked over to
    the table and eyed the greenish patties on their plates. “What are you eating?”
    “Veggie sausage,” Jarrod said with a frown. “Want some?”
    “You can have mine,” Maggie offered.
    “No, thanks. Don’t you have any cereal or something?”
    “We’re only allowed to eat it on special ’casions.”
    Octavia angled her head. “I declare today a special occasion.”
    “There’s Captain Crunch on the top shelf behind the oatmeal,” Jarrod said, setting his plate on the floor
    for the dog. “I’ll get the bowls!”
    She reached high and moved four — no, five — enormous canisters of oatmeal. “What’s with all the
    oatmeal?”
    “Mom won a bunch of it in a contest,” Jarrod said. “She’s always winning something.”
    “But nothing that tastes good,” Maggie groused. “I’ll get the milk.” She set her plate on the floor next to
    Jarrod’s where the dog was already digging in.
    Jarrod set large mixing bowls on the table. Octavia filled them with cereal, and Maggie went behind her,
    pouring too much milk. The three of them sat down and dug in with giant spoons. Javier, her personal
    trainer, would have a heart attack if he saw the sugary meal, but right now, she needed an indulgence.
    A heavy, warm weight fell on her feet. Octavia jumped, then looked under the table to see the wrinkly
    reddish brown dog laying across her feet.
    “It means he likes you,” Jarrod said with a laugh.
    “I’m not a pet person,” Octavia said.
    “Max is more than a pet — he’s a retired police bloodhound. He has medals and stuff.”
    “Yeah, well, right now he’s just another male stepping on my toes,” she muttered.
    “This is better than veggie sausage,” Maggie said with milk running down her chin. “You can make
    breakfast every morning, Aunt Tavey.”
    “Oh, no.” Octavia wagged her spoon. “I’m not staying. I have my own