Free Murder Al Fresco by Jennifer L. Hart Page A

right. Although Chad's death may have been from some fluke medical condition or even an accident, my twisting stomach made me think otherwise. The last thing either of us needed was a killer setting his sinister sights on our little family.
    "I know, but Jones, my actions might have brought a murderer to our town. And the sooner he's caught and brought to justice, the safer I'll feel. I have to be in town, mingling with all of those people because of the competition anyway. I promise not to draw any extra attention. But if I can keep my ears open and maybe find something out, I need to do it to make things right and keep you guys safe."
     Jones looked at me for a long moment. "Promise me, Andrea, that you will be careful."
    I bit my lip, not wanting to make a promise I couldn't keep. "I promise I'll do my best."
    Jones barked out a laugh that made Clayton jump. Jones froze, a panicked look crossing his face, his posture rigid. Little limbs flailed a moment, but the bottle was still half full, and Clayton's eyelids soon drifted low.
    "Take him. I'll get to work." Jones handed Clayton over, bottle and all, and was off the couch and down the stairs to his darkroom before you could say marinara.
    I sighed and looked down at his offspring, who hadn't grown horns or anything that I could tell. My big, strong, sexy fiancé was terrified of a twenty-pound imp who couldn't even talk yet. "What did you do to my man, little guy?"
    Clayton pushed the bottle away and belched.
    "Well, that is sort of terrifying," I agreed. "But doesn't explain your daddy's total meltdown."
    Clayton settled back in with the bottle, content, and I leaned back, mulling over the problem. For all of my talk about Clayton adjusting, he was acclimating better than his dad. Was Jones even trying, or was he just biding his time until Clayton returned to his grandparents?
    I looked down at the little red-haired cherub and admitted the truth to myself. I liked having him here, as messy and demanding as he was. But was there any way Jones could ever accept him?
    Did he even want to?

 
    Stuff
     
    You'll need:
    1 pound egg noodles
    1 pound lean ground beef or turkey
    1 egg
    4 tablespoons cream cheese
    1 package frozen spinach, thawed and drained
    Dash of nutmeg
    Sprinkling Parmesan cheese
     
    Directions:
     
    Brown meat and drain excess grease. Reduce heat to medium low. Make well in the center of meat. Beat egg, scrambled style, and add to well. Top with dollops of cream cheese and spinach, and combine with cooking egg and meat. Dish is finished cooking when egg is cooked through and all ingredients have combined. Season with nutmeg and Parmesan cheese. Serve over hot egg noodles or pasta
     
    **Andy's note: If you use rice or make risotto instead of the pasta, it's also gluten free!

 
CHAPTER SIX
     
    Whether from a growing sense of familiarity or sheer exhaustion, Clayton slept like an angel. Jones, on the other hand, didn't come to bed until almost dawn. The sound of the door scraping across the rug woke me, and I watched him undress and climb into bed. He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, but I stared at the ceiling, my mind much too busy for any further rest.
    There was so much we needed to discuss, so much ground to cover. Clayton, the dead man, the competition, Jacob. My brain stuck on the last, and I grimaced. He'd said he'd be at the pasta shop at 8:00 AM to help me put systems in place for the day-to-day operation of the Bowtie Angel. I had yet to discuss his participation in the family business with Pops or Aunt Cecily, and that was a conversation I seriously considered putting off.
    Like until my next life.
    Pops had made it clear over the years that he blamed Jacob for my mother's unhappiness and eventual suicide. Having been raised by him, it was only natural that I'd taken those beliefs to heart. Obviously my father hadn't wanted to be part of our lives, if he had he would have made some gesture years before, and being a dad was