Free A Crouton Murder by J. M. Griffin Page A

sorry, I really am. There’s a good reason I burst in without warning. What does your stalker look like?”
    Surprise covered her face. “He’s tallish, wears a hoodie sweatshirt and a ball cap. I never get to see his face or hair. His pants are baggy, too, and hang down a bit. Makes me want to run up to him and yank them up to his friggin’ neck,” BettyJo remarked.
    I nodded, I was right, he was her stalker. “I caught the red light at the intersection across the way. While I waited, I saw a man, like you just described, lingering outside your shop. Before the light changed, and I could get closer, I saw him picked up by someone and they drove off.”
    Her mouth agape, she asked, “Do you know who picked him up?”
    I hesitated, then said, “That’s where it gets tricky. Your father picked him up.”
    “You’re joking, right? My father wouldn’t set a stalker on me. Good grief.”
    “I’m not sure what the deal is, but I’d be on the phone inviting your father and his new-found friend here for a chat.”
    “That bastard. I’ve been scared out of my mind, and all the time my father’s been paying some asshole to stalk me? What the hell is wrong with him?” BettyJo yelled.
    “I know this comes as a shock and all, but you need to calm down. There’s no use in getting angry until we know the facts. Give him a call. Tell him you need to speak with him in person. We were going to gang up on him anyway, so now is the perfect time.”
    The phone in her hand, BettyJo dialed her father’s number. She took a few deep breaths and waited until he answered.
    “Dad, could you come over right away? I have to talk to you, it’s important.”
    She waited a few seconds and then insisted, “Now, Dad, right now. I don’t care what else is going on in your life. I need you here, immediately.”
    Abruptly she cut off the conversation by pressing the button on the phone. She slammed it onto the worktable and huffed like a dragon. I truly expected to see flames and smoke come from her mouth and nostrils. Yep, BettyJo could be formidable. Maybe the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree on that count.
    “He’s on his way,” she snapped.
    To change the subject and soothe her anger, I said, “If you’re hungry, there’s a couple empanadas in the fridge. Warm them in the microwave and I’ll have one with you while we wait.”
    “Good idea. I haven’t eaten all day.” BettyJo checked her watch, went toward the fridge, and moments later brought heated empanadas to the table.
    We ate in silence, each with our own thoughts. I didn’t know what to expect, and I was certain BettyJo didn’t, either. We’d gotten done at the same time and spoke at once. I laughed, and said, “You first.”
    “I’m curious as to why my father would sic a creep on me. Maybe to scare me into returning home to live with him? He does tend to try and control me. No wonder my mother walked out. Christ, she probably couldn’t take his autocratic behavior.” BettyJo shook her head and sighed.
    A knock on the door produced Porter Anderson. My day took a faster downturn as I stared at his approach.
    With a glance at me, BettyJo said, “I’ll wait for my father and then bring him over here. Whether he likes it or not.”
    Porter gave her a keen look before he focused on me. I gave him a shrug, told BettyJo that I’d be waiting and watched her scoot out the door.
    “You’ve invited Mr. Seever here?” Porter asked.
    “More like BettyJo summoned him with no chance of refusal. She’s had a stalker problem as of late. I wanted to pass that by you, but you haven’t been around. Vinnie Esposito recommended that I tell you about the guy who’s been following BettyJo and get your take on how to handle it.” I went on to explain the man, adding the scene I’d witnessed earlier, and BettyJo’s demand of Mr. Seever’s visit.
    Porter smirked, then turned serious. “I think I’ll stick around for that. I wanted to speak with Seever, anyway. He