Free Real Estate and Murder (A Port Grace Cozy Mystery Book 1) by Emily Page

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    “You squirted her with shampoo?” said Georgia, one eyebrow raised and a hand on her hip.
    “She wouldn’t get out,” said Bill with a shrug.
    Once Georgia had rinsed Mittens off, she called Cooper. When he answered, she heard sirens and the blare of horns.
    “Where are you?”
    “The middle of the highway,” said Cooper loudly enough to make Georgia flinch. “A semi flipped over just outside town, took out a sedan with it. Flat-screens went all over the road, and it turns out they’re stolen merchandise.”
    “Oh my God!”
    “Yeah. It’s a mess.”
    “So, I guess that means the interviews will have to wait.”
    “Looks like it. But don’t worry. Our date is still on, come hell or high water.”
    Despite her disappointment about the interviews, Georgia felt herself blush.
    “I’ll be waiting.”
    “Great! Sorry, but I have to go.”
    With her day now free, Georgia and Bill went sailing on Bill’s boat for most of the day, eating a packed lunch out on open sea. Georgia returned to her own house feeling refreshed and excited for her date, despite her apprehensions. With Mittens safely settled on her scratching post, Georgia got ready for her date.
    She had just finished her makeup and was about to put on the amethyst and diamond earrings that matched her dark purple silk blouse when the doorbell rang.
    “Ryan! What’s up?” said Georgia when she answered the door.
    “Got a call for a big job today back in New York,” said Ryan. “I’m going to have to head back tomorrow, so I wanted to come over to say goodbye and…maybe talk about a few things. Maybe over dinner?”
    Georgia bit her lip. “Oh, Ryan, I’d love to, but I already have plans. Cooper, I mean Chief Harris, is going to be here in just a few minutes actually.”
    “You have plans with Harris?”
    “He asked me out to dinner yesterday. I really can’t blow him off.”
    “Oh, yeah, of course not,” said Ryan, shoving his hands into his trench coat pockets. “Well, see you later, doll face.”
    Georgia hugged Ryan and said, “I’ll be back in New York soon. We’ll talk then.”
    “Sure.”
    Georgia couldn’t help but notice that he walked away without his usual confident swagger.
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    “ T urns out the guy was linked to an FBI case,” said Cooper, closing his menu. “The feds are coming to pick him up tomorrow.”
    “Wow,” said Georgia in between sips of her wine. “So, you’re even more of a hotshot now, right?”
    Cooper laughed, his smile bright enough to hold Georgia’s full attention. The date was going unexpectedly well so far. He’d been right on time and had brought her a bouquet of daffodils he’d picked from his mother’s garden. “You should have heard the inquisition I got when I went over to get them,” he’d told her with a laugh. The restaurant was intimate and cozy, but bright, and the smells coming from the kitchen were to die for.
    “Nah. The FBI guy I talked to still treated me like a dumb cop from the boonies, but that’s to be expected. Enough about work. What are you going to order?”
    “I’m leaning toward the cacciatore.”
    “It’s great. They use an arrabiata sauce in theirs, though, so heads up. It’s a little spicy.”
    “That’s why I picked it.”
    “You like spicy food?”
    “Yeah. I was raised on New Mexico’s green chile and red chile peppers.”
    “New Mexico, huh?”
    “Yeah. My mom was from there.”
    She expected him to make a joke about liking girls with a little spice in their blood or to ask if she spoke Spanish.
    Instead, he said, “I’ve always thought the west was beautiful. Did you go out there a lot as a kid?”
    “For holidays and stuff, yeah,” said Georgia, pleasantly surprised to avoid the old clichés.
    “Tell me about it,” said Cooper, settling into a more comfortable, leaned-back position, as if he was preparing to listen to her for hours.
    Georgia smiled at him and felt a pleasant warmth growing in her chest. It might have been the