Free What's Cooking by Gail Sattler Page A

the remote, then left.
    Carolyn started flipping through the channels when Mitchell’s dog, who she knew was inaptly named Killer, entered the room. Killer looked at Carolyn, sniffed once in the air, then jumped up on the other end of the couch, curled up, and fell asleep, apparently quite comfortable with her presence.
    Carolyn’s finger froze on the remote’s button while she stared at his sleeping dog, wondering how much longer she would have to wait for Mitchell to come home. She couldn’t help being impressed that he was apparently dependable on the job. Still, she didn’t know if the reason he had to often work late was because he was so good at what he did that the company depended on him in time of trouble or if he was the junior man and got stuck with all the dirty work no one else wanted.
    Before she could think about it any further, the screech of tires sounded in the driveway. She stood just as Mitchell burst through the door.
    At the sight of him, her hands flew to her mouth to cover her gasp.
    â€œDon’t worry, the blood’s not mine. I’m fine.” Mitchell was covered in dirt, his hair was streaked with a mixture of blue and orange, and a smear of blood marred the front of his shirt.
    â€œYou don’t look fine.”
    He shrugged his shoulders. “One of the guys in the warehouse had an accident, and I had to take him to the ER, then drive him home. He’s fine. It’s just some heavy bruising and a few stitches. Do you have any idea how to get blood out of upholstery?”
    â€œWhat about you?”
    â€œI need a shower, but I think I should take care of my car first.”
    â€œAre you sure you’re okay?”
    He ran his fingers through his hair, studied his hand, then rubbed his fingers together. “Except for my hair, I’m fine. It’ll probably wash out, but if not, I’ll have the most trendy hair color at the wedding, don’t you think?”
    She blinked and stared at him. Now that the panic was over and she knew he was unhurt, she could look at him more objectively. “What is that? Or should I not ask?”
    â€œIt’s some kind of dye or pigment used in paints. I don’t know if it will come out.”
    â€œI think you should wash it right away, just in case. If you’ll get me a sponge and a bucket, I’ll see what I can do about your car.”
    While Mitchell was in the shower, Carolyn did the best she could to sop the blood out of the passenger seat. It wasn’t a particularly expensive car, but it was sporty and fairly new, and she hated to see the interior spoiled, especially as a result of his helping someone else.
    Only a small discoloration remained by the time Mitchell appeared.
    He ran his fingers through his wet hair. “I didn’t get much of the color out, but I’ll need a haircut before the wedding, anyway. How’s my car?”
    She tossed the sponge into the bucket. “Pretty good. I think if we rent a steam cleaner and buy a good upholstery shampoo, the blood should all come out. It helps to get at something like this right away.”
    Since she didn’t want to sit in the wet seat, they took her car to the supermarket to rent the unit.
    â€œNow that we have a few minutes, can you tell me what happened?”
    â€œThe forklift driver tipped over a piece of machinery onto a skid of paint. Ted tried to run out of the way when everything toppled, but he didn’t quite make it. I’ve got a first aid certificate, so I did my best to contain the bleeding and took him to the hospital myself rather than calling for an ambulance, since it wasn’t life threatening. The next shift is going to clean up the mess, but tomorrow I have to fill out the accident and worker’s compensation forms.” He turned to her. “I also have to do an internal investigation on this. I used to drive the forklift before I got promoted to dispatcher. I know from experience