Free Murder in the Milk Case by Spyglass Lane Mysteries Page B

thing.”
    Charlie stared at me. I could tell he was trying to find a loophole, but he finally nodded. “Okay.”
    I wanted to smile, but I didn’t. He was so much like me he could have been my biological son.
    After we prayed together, I tucked Charlie into bed, then I sat down in front of the television and flipped to the local news.
    The perky news anchor read a teaser about the local landfill, which was temporarily closing. That’s where Norm, Lee Ann’s husband, worked. The newscaster moved on to the murder at the grocery store. “The local Shopper’s Super Saver is now open after the body of pharmacist Jim Bob Jenkins, a local resident, was discovered murdered in the refrigerated room behind the dairy case. Police report that the investigation is ongoing. A source close to the situation has indicated that store finances might be involved. Store manager Frank Gaines spoke with us earlier.”
    They cut to a clip of an interview with poor Frank. His charming, Dudley Do-It-All-Right persona had lost quite a bit of its shine. His hair was flat, and his tie was crooked.
    The newsperson shoved the mike closer into Frank’s face. “Can you tell us what you know about the murder investigation?”
    If I were a betting person, I would wager that Frank’s scowl indicated more than minor irritation.
    “I’m not privy to the investigation,” he snarled. “I have nothing to say.”
    Yep. I was right.
    The news cut back to the studio. Ms. Perky beamed into the camera, as though she’d just covered a cheery piece of Americana. Then she babbled on about an investigation at the landfill—something about hauling in medical waste from New Jersey.
    I turned off the television. The phone rang. Why would someone call this late? Shortly after, I heard Tommy tromping down the stairs.
    “Where’s Dad? He’s got a call.” He waved the phone in the air.
    “In his study,” I said. “Who is it?”
    He covered the receiver. “It’s Mrs. Jenkins.”
    Dear Steffie. Now why was she calling Max? I jumped up from the couch. “Give me the phone. I’ll take it to your father.” I snatched it from Tommy’s hand.
    He stared at me. “Mom, Dad has a phone in his office, you know.”
    “Yes, I know.”
    I trotted down the hall, pushed open the study door, and marched inside.
    “Come on in,” Max said, staring at me over reading glasses, with a slight grin on his lips. His desk was littered with bluish architectural plans.
    I made sure my hand was over the receiver. “The phone’s for you. It’s Steffie.” I said her name as if it were a four-letter word.
    Max took off his glasses, pinched the bridge of his nose, and then picked up the phone on his desk.
    Okay, so I have no pride. I listened in on the headset I held.
    “Maxwell, hello.” At least six syllables.
    “Hello, Stefanie.” He glanced at me.
    “I’m so sorry to call you so late. I hope I didn’t wake your wife.”
    Did Steffie want to talk to Max without my knowing? My grip on the phone got tighter.
    “No, it’s fine,” Max said. “What can I do for you?”
    I sat in a chair opposite his desk. He looked up at me with a slight grin and winked.
    Stefanie began to talk. “Sugar, I need to get into Jim Bob’s unit as soon as possible. There are things in there I absolutely must have.”
    Sugar? I raised my eyebrows and watched Max.
    “I told you I need a court order.” He spoke in a low, even tone and tapped his fingers on the desk.
    My mind processed the information. Jim Bob must have had a storage unit contract on which Steffie’s name wasn’t listed.
    “But surely you can understand given my delicate state that I can’t wait for those old judges to make a decision. Please, sugar, make this teeny little exception for me.”
    I stuck my finger into my mouth and pretended to gag.
    Max ignored me. He also ignored her pleas. “I’m sorry. I can’t make any exceptions.”
    I stared at him in admiration. There is something terribly attractive about a man