Free Smoked (The Alex Harris Mystery Series) by Elaine Macko

last election when she challenged someone on their views. She was quite proud of being unfriended and really gets a kick out of posting stuff. Go, Meme!
    As soon as I had gotten to work this morning I had checked to see if Maria Kravec had an account and what kind of things she posted on it. If she was saying nasty things on her blog, maybe she also used Facebook to disparage the restaurant and meat industries as well, but I never found an account for Mrs. Kravec.
    And now, as I drove along the turnpike, headed for the window factory where Frank Corliss worked, I turned my attention to my mother’s account. She has become quite the prolific user and this morning her posts were centered on Riley. I was treated to a picture of the dog’s new leash, cage, and soft bedding my parents had evidently installed in the kitchen. My mother even took a picture of a shelf in the pantry that was now devoted to foods and treats for Riley. It didn’t seem like she was looking to find him a good home anytime soon. And truth be told, I was thrilled. We never had a dog growing up so having Riley around was going to be fun. And at least this was one four-legged family member I could actually have contact with. I had no desire to meet Scoops or Scopes or whatever his/her name was. I just hoped Henry wasn’t too disappointed I didn’t share his love of rodents.
    I finally came to the exit I needed for the factory. I had thought about calling and asking to speak with Frank Corliss, but decided it best to catch him off guard, assuming the man had something to be on guard about. So far I hadn’t talked to too many people, a point I planned to remedy today.
    A few minutes later I stood at the front desk and asked for Frank. The receptionist said I could find him out by a grassy, shaded area behind the building. She pointed out the path through a window and I thanked her and made my way around the factory.
    Frank Corliss sat at a picnic table holding a sandwich in one hand and a paperback book in the other.
    “Excuse me. Mr. Corliss?”
    He put the book down and stood up. “Yes. I’m Frank Corliss. Can I help you?”
    Like his wife, Frank had red hair and was thin. But unlike his wife he had very pale blue eyes.
    “I’m Alex Harris. I spoke with your wife yesterday about the vegan blog.”
    “Oh, right. She told me someone came by. What can I do for you?”
    I sat down across from him and noticed that his sandwich was tomato and mozzarella cheese in keeping with what Carol Corliss had told me about them being vegetarian.
    “I was with her when she called to tell you that Maria Kravec was dead. She said you didn’t seem very surprised. Why was that?”
    Frank shrugged. “I don’t remember. I either heard it on the news or the paper. We canceled our subscription but they get a copy here and keep it in the cafeteria.”
    “Did you ever meet Mrs. Kravec?”
    “In person? No. I saw her one morning on one of those local morning shows and of course once we heard about the blog, I checked out her site.”
    “How did you hear about the blog exactly?”
    “One of my wife’s friends told us about it. Of course it didn’t mention us by name but we knew it was us she was talking about. And then almost immediately people stopped coming in. That damn Internet.”
    “Your wife told me it was a misunderstanding about using the non-vegan products. Didn’t you try to contact Mrs. Kravec to set the story straight?” I had wondered about this yesterday. If someone made untrue accusations about my business I would certainly confront them face to face, maybe even get lawyers involved depending on the seriousness of the situation.
    “Of course we tried to contact her. I went to her Web site and sent her a message through that. I gave her my phone number, email address. I explained about the casein and how we had removed the products from our menu and were trying to find alternative suppliers. We never heard from her. But she never wrote anything about