Read Online Marked Down for Murder (Good Buy Girls) by Josie Belle - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Josie Belle
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too.”
“Oh, please, get a room,” Roger said as he and Ginger joined them.
Sam leaned close to Maggie and whispered, “I like that idea.”
Maggie felt a thrill course through her and smiled back at him. “Let’s skip the slow dance. Your place or mine?”
“Marshall Dillon is waiting at my place,” he said.
“Your place it is.” Maggie loved that cat, and not just because he’d saved her life in the past, but because he was the world’s greatest snuggler, second to Sam. She pushed their hot chocolates with extra whipped cream in front of Roger and Ginger. “A bonus round for you two.”
They rose from their seats as one and Sam threw a hurried “Have a great night!” over his shoulder as he hauled Maggie out of the coffee shop.
• • •
“Fun night last night?” Ginger asked. She was standing in front of the long floor mirror by the dress section in Maggie’s shop. She was holding up a lime green broomstick skirt with sparkly beads sewn on the hem and she turned this way and that so the beads could catch the light.
“Yep, how about you?” Maggie asked.
“When we got home, all four boys were accounted for and not a hoochie mama in sight,” Ginger said. She sounded relieved, and Maggie laughed.
“I didn’t think there were that many hoochie mamas in St. Stanley,” she said.
“Oh, you would be surprised,” Ginger said. “I’m all for women being liberated and getting equal pay for equal work, but I wouldn’t want a boy calling or texting my daughter fifteen times a day, and I don’t like girls who do that to my boys either.”
“It’s that fine line between crushing and stalking,” Maggie agreed.
“Some girls need a little help with the definition and a quick instruction on healthy boundaries,” Ginger said. She had fire in her eyes, and Maggie had the feeling the unfortunate parents of one young girl would be getting a call from Ginger in the near future.
“Has there been any word from Joanne?” Ginger asked as she hung the skirt back up and moved to join Maggie by the counter.
“Not that I’ve heard,” she said. “False labor does seem cruel at this juncture, doesn’t it?”
“It does,” Ginger said. “I don’t know who is more eager at this point, Joanne to finally hold her baby or Claire to know what sex the baby is.”
“Between you and me,” Maggie said, “what’s your guess?”
“Boy,” Ginger said. “I always pick boy because four out of four times, I was right.”
“Good enough,” Maggie said. “I haven’t been able to get a feeling one way or the other, so I’m going for healthy.”
The front door to the shop opened and three older ladies came in. Ginger glanced from them to Maggie and said, “Looks like you’re needed. I’ll catch you later.”
Maggie waved as Ginger departed and then came around the counter to greet her customers.
“Good afternoon, ladies, can I help you find anything?”
“Hats, dear. Do you have any hats?” Mrs. Oliver asked.
Maggie knew her as a patient of Doc Franklin’s from when she used to do his books.
“Are you looking for anything in particular, Mrs. Oliver?” Maggie asked.
“Well, something dressy,” she said. “We’ve decided to take the shuttle bus over to Dumontville and have afternoon tea at the Anderson Hotel, and we want to do it right.”
“Oh, that sounds lovely,” Maggie said. “I have a few hats over here, left over from last spring’s wedding season. Why don’t you take a look?”
Maggie led Mrs. Oliver and her two companions over to a hat rack in the back of the shop. She had noticed more and more people had been coming in looking for hats. She wondered if their popularity was on the rise. She’d have to see what she could find on sale post–wedding season this year. A window display of spring hats could be fun and lucrative.
“Oh, look at that one,” one of the ladies said to Mrs. Oliver. “That would match your Sunday suit perfectly.”
Maggie left
“Oh, please, get a room,” Roger said as he and Ginger joined them.
Sam leaned close to Maggie and whispered, “I like that idea.”
Maggie felt a thrill course through her and smiled back at him. “Let’s skip the slow dance. Your place or mine?”
“Marshall Dillon is waiting at my place,” he said.
“Your place it is.” Maggie loved that cat, and not just because he’d saved her life in the past, but because he was the world’s greatest snuggler, second to Sam. She pushed their hot chocolates with extra whipped cream in front of Roger and Ginger. “A bonus round for you two.”
They rose from their seats as one and Sam threw a hurried “Have a great night!” over his shoulder as he hauled Maggie out of the coffee shop.
• • •
“Fun night last night?” Ginger asked. She was standing in front of the long floor mirror by the dress section in Maggie’s shop. She was holding up a lime green broomstick skirt with sparkly beads sewn on the hem and she turned this way and that so the beads could catch the light.
“Yep, how about you?” Maggie asked.
“When we got home, all four boys were accounted for and not a hoochie mama in sight,” Ginger said. She sounded relieved, and Maggie laughed.
“I didn’t think there were that many hoochie mamas in St. Stanley,” she said.
“Oh, you would be surprised,” Ginger said. “I’m all for women being liberated and getting equal pay for equal work, but I wouldn’t want a boy calling or texting my daughter fifteen times a day, and I don’t like girls who do that to my boys either.”
“It’s that fine line between crushing and stalking,” Maggie agreed.
“Some girls need a little help with the definition and a quick instruction on healthy boundaries,” Ginger said. She had fire in her eyes, and Maggie had the feeling the unfortunate parents of one young girl would be getting a call from Ginger in the near future.
“Has there been any word from Joanne?” Ginger asked as she hung the skirt back up and moved to join Maggie by the counter.
“Not that I’ve heard,” she said. “False labor does seem cruel at this juncture, doesn’t it?”
“It does,” Ginger said. “I don’t know who is more eager at this point, Joanne to finally hold her baby or Claire to know what sex the baby is.”
“Between you and me,” Maggie said, “what’s your guess?”
“Boy,” Ginger said. “I always pick boy because four out of four times, I was right.”
“Good enough,” Maggie said. “I haven’t been able to get a feeling one way or the other, so I’m going for healthy.”
The front door to the shop opened and three older ladies came in. Ginger glanced from them to Maggie and said, “Looks like you’re needed. I’ll catch you later.”
Maggie waved as Ginger departed and then came around the counter to greet her customers.
“Good afternoon, ladies, can I help you find anything?”
“Hats, dear. Do you have any hats?” Mrs. Oliver asked.
Maggie knew her as a patient of Doc Franklin’s from when she used to do his books.
“Are you looking for anything in particular, Mrs. Oliver?” Maggie asked.
“Well, something dressy,” she said. “We’ve decided to take the shuttle bus over to Dumontville and have afternoon tea at the Anderson Hotel, and we want to do it right.”
“Oh, that sounds lovely,” Maggie said. “I have a few hats over here, left over from last spring’s wedding season. Why don’t you take a look?”
Maggie led Mrs. Oliver and her two companions over to a hat rack in the back of the shop. She had noticed more and more people had been coming in looking for hats. She wondered if their popularity was on the rise. She’d have to see what she could find on sale post–wedding season this year. A window display of spring hats could be fun and lucrative.
“Oh, look at that one,” one of the ladies said to Mrs. Oliver. “That would match your Sunday suit perfectly.”
Maggie left
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