Free Taking the Fall by Laney Monday

be? Did Stacey know about her? Did this mystery woman know Ellison was putting the moves on Blythe?
    “Thank you, really,” Blythe said sincerely. “I appreciate the honesty.”
    Millie said, “Well, we’ll let you ladies finish your shopping. Let us know if you need help finding anything.”
    “Sure,” I said. Should we go to Riggins? Did he already know? Would he care? I couldn’t wait to get out of here so I could talk this over with Blythe. My stomach growled loudly. And cook us some breakfast. “Where’s the bacon?”
    Blythe gave me a look. She went to fill the cart with ingredients for enough inexpensive meals to last us a week, and I let Millie lead me to the local cherrywood smoked bacon, orange juice, and lemon scones from the bakery. I almost popped one of the scones out of the plastic clamshell container and ate it right there, but even without her by my side, I could hear Blythe hissing in my ear that it was stealing—even if I was about to pay for it in approximately two minutes. I sighed, swinging the basket Amy had fetched for me, and found Blythe at the checkout.
    Blythe drove us home. I was busy picking scone crumbs from my shirt and popping them into my mouth.
    Blythe backed out of the parking space. “Do you think it was that awful Stacey Goode? Or—what if it was her husband?”
    “Then why your hairbrush?”
    “And how my hairbrush, either way? I know I never left it lying around.”
    “Maybe the killer didn’t take your brush. Maybe it was just there because Ellison took it. You know, like a token.”
    “You make him sound like a creepy stalker! Maybe it wasn’t even my brush. Maybe it’s just the same kind of brush, same color, and mine is just missing.”
    Yeah, with the same color hair in it. That was likely! “We don’t know him! We have to examine every possible scenario.”
    Blythe let out a deep breath. She turned into the drive-thru of Espresso on the Bay. “I need some coffee.”
    I swallowed with difficulty. “Me too. My throat is scone-dry.”
    “Ha, ha.” She frowned at me, unimpressed.
    I shrugged. Oh, well. I tried.

11

    I sipped my coffee as I flipped eggs and bacon. And of course, ate another scone. Blythe busied herself putting away our groceries and unpacking the mishmash of kitchen essentials we’d brought from her place and mine. We hadn’t lived together since we were kids. It was going to take some getting used to. But I was determined to make this fresh start work. I vowed to try to pick up after myself and keep my comments about Blythe’s freakish neatness to myself.
    The smoked cherry wood bacon filled the apartment with an aroma that was exotic and homey all at once. The eggs had come out just right—over hard for me, and over easy, with beautiful unbroken yolks, for Blythe. I had a way with yolks. It would have been a shame, since I didn’t eat runny eggs, but Blythe appreciated them. She loved hers over easy, even though they busted on her every time she tried to cook them.
    We hadn’t brought the table up from the trailer yet, but when I was done cooking, she tossed the empty bacon package in the garbage, wiped the counter, and set it as though it were our table—one of my own plates for me, and one of hers for her.
    “A little bit of home for each of us,” she said.
    We ate standing up. As we slurped up the last of our drive-thru coffees and started in on the pot I’d brewed—hey, what can I say? After the night we’d had, it was a caffeine overdose kind of day—Blythe whipped out her phone, ready to work on another list.
    “We’ve got to get the mats down and get the trailer unloaded,” I said.
    “And carry the furniture up here. And then return the trailer to the rental place.”
    And all I wanted was a jog and a nap. And to know my sister was safe. I got out my phone and did a little surreptitious research on the Bonney Bay Police Department. Could they really handle this murder business? I found a picture and profile of Chief