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Authors: Denise Swanson
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overdose.” The daughter flipped her bottle-blond curls over her shoulder and adjusted her halter top to display more cleavage. “I read an article in a magazine while I was waiting for my hair appointment and it listed all the symptoms of what they call club drugs.”
“Well, not that I wish that poor girl any ill will, but I sure hope that it was the drugs.” The grandmother shivered theatrically and pulled at the ruffles around the bottom of her cropped T-shirt. “I heard that she might have eaten something that had gone bad.”
Shoot!
I shot a startled look at the two women as I folded the top of the pink-and-brown-striped bag and secured it with a gold foil seal. Gossip that Fallon had consumed a toxic substance was all we needed. I debated correcting the women, but since I had no idea what the true cause of death was, I kept out of the discussion.
Instead, I handed the package to the granddaughter, and said, “Thank you. Please come again.”
When the little girl smiled, I noticed she wore a jewel-encrusted gold grill across her teeth.
As the three generations of bimbos walked away, I heard the daughter state, “Food poisoning wouldn’t be too bad. We can just be careful what we eat. But I heard that it might be something catching, like that flu that was going around last winter. If it’s something contagious, maybe we should leave town before we’re exposed to it.”
Crap!
Rumors of a disease were worse than ones of food poisoning.
The initial rush of customers had ebbed, so I started straightening displays and returning misplaced merchandise to its proper shelf. As I worked, I wondered if Chief Kincaid had figured out what happened to Fallon. I suspected that unless it was fairly obvious, it would take the lab a while to run the tests. In the meantime, the tittle-tattle could ruin the Cupcake Weekend.
I had been relieved when Kizzy announced that the luncheon was still going to take place at Ronni’s. I’d been afraid that the police might have declared the B & B off-limits until they figured out what had caused Fallon’s death. Evidently, the cops had been able to collect whatever evidence there was to gather, and hadn’t had to cordon off the guesthouse, which was a good sign. Now if they would just announce that Fallon had died of natural causes, we could all relax.
Around three, I decided Dad and Hannah could handle the store on their own and headed to the B & B to find out if Ronni had any news to share regarding Fallon’s death. I knew the luncheon would be over, but maybe there would be some food left. I hadn’t had time for breakfast, and while my father and Hannah had taken lunch breaks, I hadn’t and was starving. I only hoped that whatever the police had concluded about the young woman’s demise didn’t ruin my appetite.
CHAPTER 6
T he Ksiazak B & B was on one of those narrow, not-quite-two-lane streets, common in the older parts of Shadow Bend. As I was approaching the guesthouse, a Swift Action Delivery truck appeared out of nowhere and hurtled toward me, nearly sideswiping my little Z4. At first, I was too shocked to react, but then words regarding the marital status of the driver’s mother and what he could do to himself in the privacy of his own bedroom burst from my mouth like steam from a boiling teakettle.
Shakily, I pulled into the nearest parking spot and tried to calm my racing heart. I was so going to report that guy to his company. I hadn’t gotten the license number of the van, but how many Swift Action deliverymen could there be servicing our little town?
When I finally calmed down enough to climb out of my car, I held my breath as I examined the Z4’s fenders and the driver’s-side door. The BMW was the only really expensive toy that I had kept after quitting my job with Stramp Investments. At the time, I rationalized that because of the poor economy I wouldn’t get a good price for it if I sold it, but the honest truth was that Iloved that car, and I knew
“Well, not that I wish that poor girl any ill will, but I sure hope that it was the drugs.” The grandmother shivered theatrically and pulled at the ruffles around the bottom of her cropped T-shirt. “I heard that she might have eaten something that had gone bad.”
Shoot!
I shot a startled look at the two women as I folded the top of the pink-and-brown-striped bag and secured it with a gold foil seal. Gossip that Fallon had consumed a toxic substance was all we needed. I debated correcting the women, but since I had no idea what the true cause of death was, I kept out of the discussion.
Instead, I handed the package to the granddaughter, and said, “Thank you. Please come again.”
When the little girl smiled, I noticed she wore a jewel-encrusted gold grill across her teeth.
As the three generations of bimbos walked away, I heard the daughter state, “Food poisoning wouldn’t be too bad. We can just be careful what we eat. But I heard that it might be something catching, like that flu that was going around last winter. If it’s something contagious, maybe we should leave town before we’re exposed to it.”
Crap!
Rumors of a disease were worse than ones of food poisoning.
The initial rush of customers had ebbed, so I started straightening displays and returning misplaced merchandise to its proper shelf. As I worked, I wondered if Chief Kincaid had figured out what happened to Fallon. I suspected that unless it was fairly obvious, it would take the lab a while to run the tests. In the meantime, the tittle-tattle could ruin the Cupcake Weekend.
I had been relieved when Kizzy announced that the luncheon was still going to take place at Ronni’s. I’d been afraid that the police might have declared the B & B off-limits until they figured out what had caused Fallon’s death. Evidently, the cops had been able to collect whatever evidence there was to gather, and hadn’t had to cordon off the guesthouse, which was a good sign. Now if they would just announce that Fallon had died of natural causes, we could all relax.
Around three, I decided Dad and Hannah could handle the store on their own and headed to the B & B to find out if Ronni had any news to share regarding Fallon’s death. I knew the luncheon would be over, but maybe there would be some food left. I hadn’t had time for breakfast, and while my father and Hannah had taken lunch breaks, I hadn’t and was starving. I only hoped that whatever the police had concluded about the young woman’s demise didn’t ruin my appetite.
CHAPTER 6
T he Ksiazak B & B was on one of those narrow, not-quite-two-lane streets, common in the older parts of Shadow Bend. As I was approaching the guesthouse, a Swift Action Delivery truck appeared out of nowhere and hurtled toward me, nearly sideswiping my little Z4. At first, I was too shocked to react, but then words regarding the marital status of the driver’s mother and what he could do to himself in the privacy of his own bedroom burst from my mouth like steam from a boiling teakettle.
Shakily, I pulled into the nearest parking spot and tried to calm my racing heart. I was so going to report that guy to his company. I hadn’t gotten the license number of the van, but how many Swift Action deliverymen could there be servicing our little town?
When I finally calmed down enough to climb out of my car, I held my breath as I examined the Z4’s fenders and the driver’s-side door. The BMW was the only really expensive toy that I had kept after quitting my job with Stramp Investments. At the time, I rationalized that because of the poor economy I wouldn’t get a good price for it if I sold it, but the honest truth was that Iloved that car, and I knew
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