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Authors: Rhonda Gibson
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for church, again. “Nope, definitely don’t want to mess up this relationship.”
TITLE
Lethal Lasagna
Chapter 8
“You really should get a cell phone.” Mitzi’s son, Jake’s, voice announced on my answering machine. “Call me when you get in, I have a favor to ask.” The sound of his voice went from smiling to sad.
I wondered what he needed but decided to call him back after I’d had a nice cool shower. If women didn’t sweat but only glistened, I knew the shimmer of my skin would put a Christmas tree to shame.
This morning, Sprocket had acted like a new puppy on our walk. My arms and shoulders throbbed from his yanking and pulling on the leash.
A soothing shower and two ibuprofen later, I dialed Jake’s number at work. He picked up on the second ring. “Hey Jake, I got your message. What can I do to help?” I wasn’t sure what I was offering to help with but he was my best friend’s son, and I’d do any thing for him.
“Thanks for calling me back, Claire. If you don’t want to do this, I’ll totally understand.” His voice sounded sad and tired.
I laughed, hoping to make him feel better. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll tell you if I can do it. How’s that?”
“Fair enough. I need to pack up Mom’s things.” His voice cracked. He cleared his throat and pushed on. “Her landlord called, and well, I’m not sure I can do that right now. Can you? Would you mind?”
Tears filled my eyes. The sound of his pain and sadness were almost my undoing. “Sure. I’d be happy to.”
He sighed. “Thanks.”
Silence filled the line for several moments. He had to be told what I was up to but how could I voice it? I took a deep breath and plunged in. “Jake, I’m looking into your mother’s death. Is it okay if I go through her things as I pack them away?”
I could picture him in my mind’s eye running his hands through thick black hair. “Sure. I don’t see what it will hurt.” I knew weariness filled his sad eyes.
“Thank you.”
More silence filled the line. Finally, I heard him clear his throat once more. “Claire, I’ve rented a storage shed over on Broadway. Do you know the ones?”
“Yes.”
“It’s number two-ninety-two. Mr. Jackson the owner will give you a key and padlock.” He sighed heavily.
“Okay, I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry. Her things will be there when you’re ready.”
We hung up. Sorrow built afresh in my heart. I became even more determined to find Mitzi’s murderer. Jake deserved to know why his mother had been killed. I hoped it would give him closure.
I moved to my bedroom and dressed in a light blue pantsuit. The blue had reminded me of a Robin’s egg when I bought it. I attached a butterfly pin to the collar and smiled. The butterfly’s wings were filled with light pink gemstones. It glistened in the light. Perfect.
A glance at the clock alerted me to the passing time. I grabbed up my navy blue pocketbook, poured the contents of my red purse into it, and headed toward the door.
Several lemon-scented pine tree air fresheners lay on the washing machine by the back door. I grabbed one and hurried to my car where I ripped it out of its plastic and hung it onto the rear view mirror. The citrus smell filled the interior.
My intent was to go to Mitzi’s apartment and have a look around before going to the creative writing class.
As I backed out of the driveway, I noticed Sara standing on her front porch. She waved and I waved back. Why was she home from work? I pulled up in front of her house and got out. “Is everything okay, Sara?”
She sniffled and blew her nose into an oversized man’s handkerchief. I wondered where she’d gotten it. Probably the men’s Big and Tall store.
“I caught a nasty cold over the weekend.” She grumbled inside the handkerchief. “I hate the hot days and cool nights. It seems every summer at this time I tend to get sick. I’ll have to stop staying outside when the evenings cool off.”
The last
TITLE
Lethal Lasagna
Chapter 8
“You really should get a cell phone.” Mitzi’s son, Jake’s, voice announced on my answering machine. “Call me when you get in, I have a favor to ask.” The sound of his voice went from smiling to sad.
I wondered what he needed but decided to call him back after I’d had a nice cool shower. If women didn’t sweat but only glistened, I knew the shimmer of my skin would put a Christmas tree to shame.
This morning, Sprocket had acted like a new puppy on our walk. My arms and shoulders throbbed from his yanking and pulling on the leash.
A soothing shower and two ibuprofen later, I dialed Jake’s number at work. He picked up on the second ring. “Hey Jake, I got your message. What can I do to help?” I wasn’t sure what I was offering to help with but he was my best friend’s son, and I’d do any thing for him.
“Thanks for calling me back, Claire. If you don’t want to do this, I’ll totally understand.” His voice sounded sad and tired.
I laughed, hoping to make him feel better. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll tell you if I can do it. How’s that?”
“Fair enough. I need to pack up Mom’s things.” His voice cracked. He cleared his throat and pushed on. “Her landlord called, and well, I’m not sure I can do that right now. Can you? Would you mind?”
Tears filled my eyes. The sound of his pain and sadness were almost my undoing. “Sure. I’d be happy to.”
He sighed. “Thanks.”
Silence filled the line for several moments. He had to be told what I was up to but how could I voice it? I took a deep breath and plunged in. “Jake, I’m looking into your mother’s death. Is it okay if I go through her things as I pack them away?”
I could picture him in my mind’s eye running his hands through thick black hair. “Sure. I don’t see what it will hurt.” I knew weariness filled his sad eyes.
“Thank you.”
More silence filled the line. Finally, I heard him clear his throat once more. “Claire, I’ve rented a storage shed over on Broadway. Do you know the ones?”
“Yes.”
“It’s number two-ninety-two. Mr. Jackson the owner will give you a key and padlock.” He sighed heavily.
“Okay, I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry. Her things will be there when you’re ready.”
We hung up. Sorrow built afresh in my heart. I became even more determined to find Mitzi’s murderer. Jake deserved to know why his mother had been killed. I hoped it would give him closure.
I moved to my bedroom and dressed in a light blue pantsuit. The blue had reminded me of a Robin’s egg when I bought it. I attached a butterfly pin to the collar and smiled. The butterfly’s wings were filled with light pink gemstones. It glistened in the light. Perfect.
A glance at the clock alerted me to the passing time. I grabbed up my navy blue pocketbook, poured the contents of my red purse into it, and headed toward the door.
Several lemon-scented pine tree air fresheners lay on the washing machine by the back door. I grabbed one and hurried to my car where I ripped it out of its plastic and hung it onto the rear view mirror. The citrus smell filled the interior.
My intent was to go to Mitzi’s apartment and have a look around before going to the creative writing class.
As I backed out of the driveway, I noticed Sara standing on her front porch. She waved and I waved back. Why was she home from work? I pulled up in front of her house and got out. “Is everything okay, Sara?”
She sniffled and blew her nose into an oversized man’s handkerchief. I wondered where she’d gotten it. Probably the men’s Big and Tall store.
“I caught a nasty cold over the weekend.” She grumbled inside the handkerchief. “I hate the hot days and cool nights. It seems every summer at this time I tend to get sick. I’ll have to stop staying outside when the evenings cool off.”
The last
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