Free A Touch of the Grape: A Hemlock Falls Mystery (Hemlock Falls Mystery series) by Claudia Bishop

experience with you bozos, and I know how you all like to weasel outta your commitments."
    "Doreen!" Quill said.
    "You wrote us that fire policy last night, and it's as good as gold. I talked to Howie Murchison myself this morning and you owe what you owe. So pay up." She turned to Denny with a grim smile. "We can sure use that check for payroll this week, I can tell you. This is going to he'p cash flow quite a bit. Quite a bit."
    "DoREEN!" Quill shouted.
    "I've done a preliminary estimate," Mr. Burke said stiffly. "But I have to tell you, Mrs. Stoker, that I am advising my company to withhold payment until the investigation is completed. The circumstances surrounding the taking out of this very expensive policy, and the discovery I've since made that your Inn is in a great deal of financial trouble have created suspicions. Yes, I have grave suspicions."
    "You what?" Fortunately, Quill thought, Doreen's mop was safely stowed in the kitchen. By the time she went to retrieve it and came back, Quill could have the hapless Mr. Burke safely out of the way.
    Doreen bent her head and gave Mr. Burke the full benefit of the Glare. "You try any tricks. Rocky Burke of Burke's Insurance, and you're gonna see your puss spread all over the front page of the Hemlock Falls Ga zette. And you ain't gonna like what you read."
    "What?!" Mr. Burke—who'd looked rumpled and exhausted after a sleepless night calculating his losses— now looked rumpled, exhausted, and pissed off.
    "My husband. Third husband. Axminster Stoker. Publisher and editor-in-chief of our newspaper. And I," Doreen said grandly, "have bin named special corre spondent to the Inn. Just this morning. So you watch yourself, smart guy. When the media's on the trail, the buck stops here."
    "And other mixed metaphors," Meg said cheerfully.
    "Suspicions?" Denny said alertly. "Of the girls, here?"
    "Wimmin, you bozo," Doreen said. "Watch your tongue, or I'll get the Ax after you, too. For harassment."
    "That," said Quill, rising to her feet, "is bloody well enough. Doreen, I want you to supervise the cleaning on the third floor …"
    Denny pounded his fist on the table. "Oh, no, oh, no. Don't you touch that room."
    "… and stay out of the room in question."
    "Huh," Doreen said belligerently.
    Quill turned conciliatory. "Doreen, we've got the backup cleaning crew in, and you know what they're like."
    "Bozos," Doreen said darkly. "You're right. They don't know shit from shinola, those girls. I'll git my mop and git up there."
    "Good. And thanks. Oh, and Doreen?" she called after the housekeeper's retreating back. "Don't hit them, okay? They're doing the best that they can."
    "You should keep a better handle on your help, Cookie," Mr. Burke said sulkily. "That attitude of hers is going in the report, too."
    "Just what sort of information do you need for this report of yours, Mr. Burke?" Meg popped a strawberry in her mouth and regarded him with wide eyes.
    "That's for me to know, and you to find out." He reached for a strawberry. Meg slapped his hand away. "Hey!"
    "For guests of the Inn, only."
    "You gave the fire chief all he wanted. He's making a pig of himself. Just look at him." Denny grinned through a mouthful of strawberries. "And I'm a guest at the Inn."
    "You've extended your stay?"
    "You bet your"—he searched for a less belligerent word—"bippy I extended my stay. Until I know for sure this is a fraudulent claim. Preliminary estimates on this little caper of yours add up to a good fifty thousand." He scowled. "All those damn antiques. And labor. You know what even a half-assed carpenter costs these days? And we're required to pay the union rate even though"—he lowered his voice and hissed fiercely— "even though I know darn well your basic type of insured gets his uncle Al to do it for minimum wage."
    "We don't have an uncle Al," Meg said. "But if we did, I can assure you we'd pay the going rate. Okay. If you're staying, have a strawberry. Have," Meg said generously,