Free Flipped For Murder by Maddie Day Page B

standoffish.”
    Christina laughed. “That lech? He’ll feel up anything with boobs. It doesn’t matter how old or how young. He has a hard time keeping female employees.”
    â€œThat must be it. How disgusting. Danna isn’t even twenty and he’s gotta be fifty.”
    She rolled her eyes. “Way of the world, kiddo. Way of the world.”
    â€œIs he married?”
    â€œNot sure. Betsy told me he grew up in South Lick, though.”
    â€œI saw a picture of him from a few years back with Stella, the woman who was killed,” I said. “In the photo they were both smiling, but he claimed they weren’t friends.”
    â€œHe probably went to kindergarten with her or something.”
    â€œSo maybe Ed grew up in South Lick. He came into the store Saturday with Don, the guy who owns the hardware store.”
    â€œWell, married or not, Ed’s sure not my type.”
    I laughed. “Well, duh.” I knew Christina’s type was Betsy, a lean welder.
    â€œSpeaking of type, you found anybody your type lately?” She waggled her eyebrows. “It’s time to get over Will, you know.”
    I nodded slowly. Even though I’d left Will behind in California, I’d poured out the whole story to Christina when we worked together. “Funny you should ask.” I told her about my date with Jim. “I’m making him dinner tonight, actually.”
    â€œThat’s what I like to hear. Get out of here, now. I have work to do.”
    â€œSame here.” We exchanged another hug and promised to see each other soon, somehow.
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    I checked the wall clock in my store and then my list. Three o’clock and many of my errands and chores were checked off. I was such a list person—if I forgot to add a task, but I’d already done it, I wrote it down simply to have the satisfaction of crossing it off.
    I’d deposited the weekend’s cash at the bank, picked up frozen shrimp at the market and local produce from the farm stand for dinner, bought a litter box and litter, and cleaned the kitchen and living room. Working in the restaurant, I’d made tomorrow’s miso gravy, prepped the biscuit dough, and cut up pineapple, melon, and grapes for a fruit salad I’d add to the Specials menu on the chalkboard. I was pretty sure business on weekdays would be slower, but I still wanted to be ready. As I was washing up, someone knocked on the store’s front door. Walking over as I dried my hands on a towel, I spied Phil.
    â€œHey, feeling better?” I opened the door and stood back. He wore an old red IU sweatshirt with ratty jeans, and he held two wide trays stacked on top of each other.
    â€œI am, thank the blessed Lord.” He handed me the trays, which were sealed with plastic wrap. “Take these. Be right back.” He turned, leaned into the back of his old Volvo station wagon, and drew out two more, then followed me into the store, setting them on the counter next to where I’d put the first two.
    â€œSit down for a minute?” I asked. “You must have taken a sick day.”
    â€œI did. Whew,” he said, shaking his head as he sat. “I don’t recommend the twenty-four-hour stomach bug to anyone.” Somehow his dark skin looked pale and his eyes watered.
    â€œThanks for baking. Are you sure—”
    â€œThat I didn’t infect the brownies?” At least his wicked grin was his usual. “Yes, ma’am. I was over it by this morning. I wiped down my kitchen with disinfectant just in case, and I washed my hands about every two minutes as I was cooking.”
    â€œWell, I appreciate it. We missed you Sunday, but by some miracle a competent young woman answered my ad and I hired her on the spot. Madam Mayor’s teenaged daughter, Danna.”
    Phil laughed. “I used to babysit her, even though I’m only a few years older. She was a handful. Smart, but a bit too