Free One Hot Murder by Lorraine Bartlett

eavesdropping on the conversation.
    “Did I say greatest? I meant second greatest,” Andy said and shot Keith a weak grin.
    Davenport’s tongue seemed to be massaging the gums along his front teeth. He poked around at his molars, too, before he spoke again. “Do you mind if I hang out here and wait until the kid returns?”
    “Be my guest,” Andy said, and waved a hand toward the plastic lawn chairs sitting against the wall under the front window. “Would you like to order a little dinner while you wait? My pizza is the best in the area.”
    “You know I can’t take free food. It might be looked at as a bribe,” Davenport said, his voice level.
    “I wasn’t offering it for free,” Andy grated and jerked his right thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the sign that hung on the back wall listing his prices.
    Katie sipped her Coke, every nerve in her body on alert. She couldn’t remember when she’d seen Andy so tense.
    “I’ll have a small cheese and pepperoni pizza. And a can of orange pop, too,” Davenport said.
    “Coming right up,” Andy said, and turned his back on the detective.
    Davenport craned his neck to watch Keith, who was pulling a pizza out of the oven. He looked like he’d just gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar. But then, Davenport seemed to have that effect on most people—making them feel guilty for things they hadn’t done.
    Davenport turned around to gaze over Victoria Square in the direction of Wood U.
    “Have they positively identified the body found in the fire?” Katie asked.
    “Not yet,” Davenport answered succinctly.
    There was something about his expression—or perhapsit was his eyes—that hinted of a willingness to talk…if she asked the right question.
    “Is there any possibility that Wheeler
isn’t
the victim?” Andy asked.
    Davenport frowned. “Until we get a positive ID, anything’s possible,” Davenport admitted. But then why was he so interested in Blake? Did he have any other suspects?
    “That’ll be seven fifty-five, Detective,” Andy said, and shoved a can of pop across the counter toward Davenport. “Your pizza will be up in a few minutes.”
    Davenport dug out his wallet and handed Andy a ten. He made change and gave it back. Davenport grabbed his pop and turned to Katie. “Is there a bench or somewhere where we can sit and talk?” he asked, sounding downright friendly.
    Katie nearly choked on her calzone.
    “Not really. Although the Merchants Association is looking at plans to do just that. And maybe add a gazebo.”
    “That would be lovely.”
    Lovely?
Katie hadn’t known the detective even knew—let alone used—the word.
    “Is there anyplace else we can go?”
    “There’s a ratty old swing on the old Webster mansion’s front porch, but I’m not sure if it could hold both our weights. The rope looks pretty worn.”
    “And it would be trespassing for us to use it. Oh well…another time then.”
    Another time?
Katie met Andy’s puzzled gaze. At least he was a witness to Davenport’s apparent change in demeanor. She
wasn’t
simply going crazy after all.
    “You’re welcome to eat your dinner here in my shop and wait for Blake,” Andy offered the detective, waving a hand in the direction of the chairs where Katie was already sitting.
    Davenport shook his head. “That’s okay.”
    “And it’s ready,” Keith said, sliding Davenport’s pizza into a box. He handed it to Andy, who gave it to the detective.
    “Thanks. I think I’ll wander on back to Wood U andtake another look around while I wait for the Taylor kid to show up.”
    “Suit yourself,” Andy said, and he and Katie watched the detective leave.
    “I’m glad he’s gone,” Keith said from his position in front of the ovens.
    “You and me both,” Andy said, “but he’ll be back.”
    “Keith, what happened between Blake and Dennis Wheeler at the school?” Katie asked.
    “Old Man Wheeler ragged on Blake on a regular basis,” Keith admitted.