Free Murder Is Our Mascot by Tracy D. Comstock Page A

be here for dessert?" Her eyes narrowed, but Tad didn't squirm.
    "I didn't. I had to go in to order some donuts for the Mathletes' meeting, and when I saw she had one of these babies in her cooler, I couldn't resist. Why?"
    Emily became intensely interested in her cheesecake. Why was she always jumping to the conclusion that Tad was trying to flirt with her? How narcissistic could she be? It was too bad that jumping to conclusions didn't burn calories, she thought, or she could be as skinny as Gabby in no time. Ignoring Tad's question, Emily changed the subject. "What about the social media sites? Surely Jim had a Facebook page or a Twitter account or something."
    Tad nodded. "He does have a Facebook page, but it's only a few months old." Emily blew her bangs off her forehead in a huff. "But," he continued, "his page did say that he was in a relationship with Stephanie Lowell."
    "Who's she?" Emily asked. Knowing Tad, he already had that all figured out.
    He did. "She's a personal trainer at Perfect Fitness." He smirked at her. "I thought we could swing by there after the memorial service tomorrow and see what we can find out."
    Emily groaned and dropped her head to the table. "Why couldn't she have been a chef? Or a clothing designer?" She knew she was perilously close to whining, but she didn't care. Of the top ten things she hated most in life, gyms rated right up there with mornings and running.
    Tad had moved back to the kitchen and was running hot water in the sink to start washing dishes. Emily hurried to help him, but he shooed her away. "I'll do the dishes—you agree to go to the gym with me."
    Emily crossed her arms in front of her. "Only in the name of research," she finally groused, taking a seat at the counter. "And speaking of research, don't you think we should check further into Mr. Barnes?"
    Tad had pushed his sleeves up past the elbows, and Emily was trying not to notice the fine, dark hairs glistening on his forearms as he plunged his hands in the soapy water. Who knew doing the dishes could be so sexy? To detract attention from her heated face, Emily continued. "There's no way he could afford that car on our salary. What if he's like that Miss Davis in Varsity Blues ?"
    Tad frowned at her, trying to recall the reference. "You know, the sex ed teacher who was a stripper on the side?" she said to jog his memory.
    The plate Tad was drying nearly crashed to the floor. "Are you suggesting Mr. Barnes is a stripper?" He stacked the last plate carefully in the cabinet before coming around to sit beside her. "That has to be the most ridiculous, and truly nightmare-worthy idea, I have ever heard you come up with."
    The look of horror in Tad's eyes tickled Emily's funny bone. A giggle slipped out, and when Tad chuckled in return, Emily let loose with a full-out laugh that ended in her gasping for breath. The laughter eased the tension in her shoulders, and as Emily brushed her hair out of her eyes, she realized she was practically sitting in Tad's lap. She straightened so quickly, she banged his chin with the top of her head. Tad quit laughing and rubbed his jaw.
    "I'm so sorry," Emily gushed, hopping up and dragging on her coat that had been left draped over the back of the couch. "One of the hazards of being short, I guess." She carefully buttoned every button on her coat, unsure of what to say or do next. Tad wasn't helping alleviate her awkwardness either. He stood casually in front of the door, her only means of escape. Terrified of making another stupid move, Emily blurted, "Thanks for dinner. And the research skills. We'll plan on the gym tomorrow."
    Tad smiled at the grimace she couldn't quite mask at the mention of the gym. "You're welcome. It's a date, then." When he still didn't move, Emily took a hesitant step forward. Tad must have had the same idea she did because they collided a foot from the door. Trying not to lose her balance, Emily gripped Tad's waist. His arms came around her to steady her, and