Read Online With Vics You Get Eggroll (A Mad for Mod Mystery Book 3) by Diane Vallere - Free Book Online

the wood in the back seat, and a drip of turquoise had edged close to red. Tahitian Turquoise? Caribbean Coral?
    I needed a vacation.
    “Interesting palette,” he said. I didn’t offer an explanation. He turned the wood over. A white sticker with the Paintin’ Place logo, address, and phone number was affixed to the bottom edge. I took the board from his hand and set it back in the car.
    “You ever hire out freelancers?” he asked.
    “On occasion.”
    “Here.” He pulled a business card out of his wallet and held it out. “I’m new to town and it’s hard to find job leads. If you need an extra set of hands, I come cheap.”
    His card said Jake Morris with a phone number and email below. No address, website, or endorsement quotes.
    “Thank you, Jake. I’ll keep you in mind.” I opened the car door and set the card in the cup holder.
    “You’re not going to lose that, are you? You want some extras?” he asked, reaching inside his wallet for more cards.
    “I’m not going to lose it,” I said. “Nice meeting you.” I put the car in reverse and left before he could say another word.

      
    I stopped off at my local mechanic and found him filling out some paperwork behind the counter. He greeted me with a big smile. “Madison, my favorite customer.”
    “The only reason I’m your favorite customer is because I drive an old car that constantly needs work.”
    “True, true, but it doesn’t hurt that you look like the girl I took to the prom in 1959. What’s the trouble today?”
    “Easy. Broken tail light.”
    We walked around the back of the car and he tapped the plastic. “Could be a short. Want me to check it now?”
    “Yes, please.”
    I helped myself to a cup of coffee from behind the counter while he checked the bulb. A few minutes later, he came back. “Good as new,” he said.
    “What do I owe you?”
    “Five dollars for the bulb.”
    “What about the labor?”
    “If I charged you for that, I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night.”
    I peeled a ten dollar bill out of my wallet. “Buy your wife something pretty,” I said. He shook his head at me and I left.
    I drove to the Tyler house. Yesterday, I hadn’t known if I’d be coming back, but today I knew the work would be the distraction I needed.
    Cleo met me at the front door. Today she wore a fitted red sweater that highlighted her probably-not-real bust line and narrow waist. Short white shorts showed off long, tan legs that ended in gold, high-heeled sandals. It was going on nine o’clock and even in my pantsuit I was painfully underdressed.
    “Hi, darlin’, I wasn’t sure if we’d be seeing you today.”
    “A busy decorating job is probably the best place for me to be. Have you had a chance to look at the bathroom?”
    “I had Molly clean the room up after you left. It’s gorgeous!”
    I cringed. Cleaning up a job site was my job, not her housekeeper’s. “I’m going to finish up in there first, and then I’ll come find you to talk about the removal of the glass wall.”
    “You sure you want to tackle that yourself?”
    I was pretty sure I didn’t want to tackle it myself. I remembered what the man at the pool said about taking out frustrations around the house. “I think it’ll make for good therapy.”
    “Honey, I’ve been in analysis for twenty years and it hasn’t done a darn thing. If tearing down that glass wall helps you, maybe I’ll have to get into the decorating business myself.”
    Cleo walked with me to the bathroom. I cracked the door and peeked inside, and then, delighted with the way the fixtures had turned out, I opened the door wide and stepped into the room.
    It wasn’t often that you found a mid-century house with a pink bathroom in mint condition. The former owners had done the poor man’s version of renovating the room, and their frugality had served to protect the fixtures under the latex paint. It had easily come off with the paint remover, and now matched the ceramic tile that trimmed