Read Online 1 Assault with a Deadly Glue Gun by Lois Winston - Free Book Online
Authors: Lois Winston
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my sons
alone. Please! You'll get your money. I just need some time."
"You got a week."
"That's not enough!"
"One week." The phone went dead.
Marlys's murder aside, I couldn't wait to get to work. Another day
of backstabbing office politics would seem like a week at The
Golden Door Spa compared to dealing with widowhood, pauperdom, and getting shaken down by a loan shark-not to mention
dealing with Lucille and Mama.
Some sadist had yanked me out of my dull but normal life and
plunked me down in the middle of a Janet Evanovich novel. What
would Stephanie Plum do? I pondered this question on my drive
to work. Stephanie never had to worry, though. No matter how big
the mess she found herself in, good old Janet would write her a happy ending. No such luck for me. My problems were real. They
weren't about to disappear with the stroke of a pen or click of a
keyboard.
By the time I arrived at work, an hour late and with damp hair,
speculative gossip circled the halls of Trimedia. Half the staff
crowded around the entrance to my cubicle. They scattered like
cockroaches as I approached. All except Cloris and Daphne.
"Did you hear?" asked Daphne. Her wild mane of Nicole Kidman red curls bounced on her shoulders as she bounced on the
balls of her Payless mock alligator pumps. "Someone killed Marlys
last night. Here. In your office."
That last bit of information seemed a tad redundant, considering, as I'd suspected, yellow crime tape barred the entrance to my
cubicle. "I know," I told her. "I found the body."
"Shut up!" she shrieked.
"You didn't!" cried Cloris.
I gave them a quick recap of my late-night adventure after returning to the office.
"Ewww!" Daphne hugged her arms around her chest and shivered, whether from her belly button-showcasing ivory lace croptop or from revulsion was anyone's guess. "That's too weird."
"Someone sure has a sick sense of humor," said Cloris. "Who
do you think did it?"
"Marlys had more enemies than friends. I'd imagine there's a
long list of people who hated her"
"But enough to kill her?" asked Daphne, her wide-eyed gaze
fixed on my nearly empty office. The police had confiscated my
computer, my desk chair, all my supplies, and-worst of all-the three dozen satin birdseed roses scheduled for this morning's
photo shoot.
A thin coating of black fingerprint powder dusted the empty
counters and shelves. Was I expected to clean up the mess or could I
cajole the janitor into tackling the chore? "Do you think crime scene
cleanup is included in the janitor's job description?" I asked.
"Don't count on it," said Daphne. "Those guys are unionized."
Have I mentioned how low a priority cleaning is on my to-do list?
"We all need to pull double Erica shifts," said Cloris, a flaky
croissant poised in front of her mouth. "She's shaken up something awful. That poor kid is about to have a nervous breakdown."
Just what I needed with everything else going on in my life,
more Erica babysitting duty.
I eyed the croissant, my salivary glands kicking into overdrive.
Not only hadn't I had time to dry my hair, I hadn't even downed
my eye-opening morning cup of java, let alone breakfast. "Got any
more of those?" I asked.
Cloris took a bite and spoke around the mouthful of flaky pastry. "Two dozen in the break room. Compliments of Cuisine a GoGo." Several crumbs landed on the forest green Kiss the Cook
chef's apron that covered her 32AA bosom. One by one, she picked
them off and popped them into her mouth. Cloris hated waste.
"Cuisine a Go-Go?"
"I kid you not. It's a new take-out franchise. Non-traditional
fast food. Mostly French. You should try the escargot burger."
"Thanks but I'll pass."
She grinned. "Okay, so maybe escargot burgers won't catch on
in Peoria-or even New Jersey-but the croissants are to die for."
"Not the best turn of a phrase under the circumstances," I said.
"Right. Sorry."
I scowled in the direction of my empty cubicle. Hopefully,
Naomi could juggle
alone. Please! You'll get your money. I just need some time."
"You got a week."
"That's not enough!"
"One week." The phone went dead.
Marlys's murder aside, I couldn't wait to get to work. Another day
of backstabbing office politics would seem like a week at The
Golden Door Spa compared to dealing with widowhood, pauperdom, and getting shaken down by a loan shark-not to mention
dealing with Lucille and Mama.
Some sadist had yanked me out of my dull but normal life and
plunked me down in the middle of a Janet Evanovich novel. What
would Stephanie Plum do? I pondered this question on my drive
to work. Stephanie never had to worry, though. No matter how big
the mess she found herself in, good old Janet would write her a happy ending. No such luck for me. My problems were real. They
weren't about to disappear with the stroke of a pen or click of a
keyboard.
By the time I arrived at work, an hour late and with damp hair,
speculative gossip circled the halls of Trimedia. Half the staff
crowded around the entrance to my cubicle. They scattered like
cockroaches as I approached. All except Cloris and Daphne.
"Did you hear?" asked Daphne. Her wild mane of Nicole Kidman red curls bounced on her shoulders as she bounced on the
balls of her Payless mock alligator pumps. "Someone killed Marlys
last night. Here. In your office."
That last bit of information seemed a tad redundant, considering, as I'd suspected, yellow crime tape barred the entrance to my
cubicle. "I know," I told her. "I found the body."
"Shut up!" she shrieked.
"You didn't!" cried Cloris.
I gave them a quick recap of my late-night adventure after returning to the office.
"Ewww!" Daphne hugged her arms around her chest and shivered, whether from her belly button-showcasing ivory lace croptop or from revulsion was anyone's guess. "That's too weird."
"Someone sure has a sick sense of humor," said Cloris. "Who
do you think did it?"
"Marlys had more enemies than friends. I'd imagine there's a
long list of people who hated her"
"But enough to kill her?" asked Daphne, her wide-eyed gaze
fixed on my nearly empty office. The police had confiscated my
computer, my desk chair, all my supplies, and-worst of all-the three dozen satin birdseed roses scheduled for this morning's
photo shoot.
A thin coating of black fingerprint powder dusted the empty
counters and shelves. Was I expected to clean up the mess or could I
cajole the janitor into tackling the chore? "Do you think crime scene
cleanup is included in the janitor's job description?" I asked.
"Don't count on it," said Daphne. "Those guys are unionized."
Have I mentioned how low a priority cleaning is on my to-do list?
"We all need to pull double Erica shifts," said Cloris, a flaky
croissant poised in front of her mouth. "She's shaken up something awful. That poor kid is about to have a nervous breakdown."
Just what I needed with everything else going on in my life,
more Erica babysitting duty.
I eyed the croissant, my salivary glands kicking into overdrive.
Not only hadn't I had time to dry my hair, I hadn't even downed
my eye-opening morning cup of java, let alone breakfast. "Got any
more of those?" I asked.
Cloris took a bite and spoke around the mouthful of flaky pastry. "Two dozen in the break room. Compliments of Cuisine a GoGo." Several crumbs landed on the forest green Kiss the Cook
chef's apron that covered her 32AA bosom. One by one, she picked
them off and popped them into her mouth. Cloris hated waste.
"Cuisine a Go-Go?"
"I kid you not. It's a new take-out franchise. Non-traditional
fast food. Mostly French. You should try the escargot burger."
"Thanks but I'll pass."
She grinned. "Okay, so maybe escargot burgers won't catch on
in Peoria-or even New Jersey-but the croissants are to die for."
"Not the best turn of a phrase under the circumstances," I said.
"Right. Sorry."
I scowled in the direction of my empty cubicle. Hopefully,
Naomi could juggle
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