Read Online Ms America and the Whoopsie in Winona by Diana Dempsey - Free Book Online Page A

I saw the calendar. You look amazing, Jason.”
    He chuckles. “Kimberly told me it’s selling so fast they had to print more copies.”
    “That’s fantastic! But who’s Kimberly?”
    “The photographer. You’ve heard me mention her before.”
    “Really?”
    “Sure you have. She’s the one who predicted I’d land on the cover.”
    “Oh, you’re right, you did tell me it was the photographer who said that.” Somehow it never occurred to me the photographer was a woman.
    “Anyway, I really am slammed. How about we talk tomorrow? And remember I have to give my decision to Zach next week.”
    “I know. I love you.”
    “Love you, too, babe,” and then he’s gone.
    The next morning my cell wakens me when it’s still dark and I would much rather remain comatose. But this call I have to take. It’s from Sebastian Cantwell: Ms. America pageant owner, besmirched tycoon, and, I soon learn, Giant W stockholder.
    “The shares are down seven percent in two days, Ohio.” His British accent gets even more pronounced when he’s mad. Sometimes I can barely make head or tails of what he’s saying. “Apparently investors take a dim view of a murder happening on the store premises.”
    “I think we’d all rather the murder hadn’t happened, sir. But I am investigating. I think it’ll help that the homicide detective is cooperating with me.” Not that I’ve spoken with Detective Dembek since the night of the murder. My bad.
    “Wrap this thing up ASAP. I want those shares to recover. Then you can do something else for me.”
    “Do you need a favor?” I try to be obliging to the man who wrote me a check for a quarter of a million dollars.
    “You can testify on my behalf. My trial’s coming up fast.”
    Sebastian Cantwell has been charged with creating false losses in the pageant to avoid taxes. It never sounded all that bad to me but Mario assures me it’s a felony. And since on the QT Mario helped the feds with the investigation, he’s sure Mr. Cantwell is guilty. I’m more inclined to give my pageant owner the benefit of the doubt, though I admit I always prefer to be on Mario’s side.
    “I’m happy to testify but I doubt I would be of any help,” I say.
    “You’d do great, Ohio.” The call disconnects. Sebastian Cantwell is never one for prolonged goodbyes.
    I’m in the kitchen making coffee when Pop and Maggie come in through the side door bearing a wide flat white box that emits an extremely tantalizing aroma.
    “Donuts,” Pop says.
    “From Bloedow’s.” Maggie pronounces it BLAY-doughs. “They were voted best donuts in Minnesota last year.”
    “Yum.” I select a long frosted one that’s got to be a thousand calories. Guess I’ll be doing a long run today, snow or no snow.
    “That’s one of their bestsellers,” Pop says. “The maple long john.”
    One bite makes me think it was made in heaven, not Winona.
    “They still fry them in lard,” Maggie assures me, “like they did ninety years ago.”
    Make that an extra long run.
    Trixie and Shanelle join us in short order. Shanelle goes for a traditional glazed and Trixie a chocolate-cake donut. “I’m getting a head start on my holiday weight gain this year,” she mumbles, her mouth half full.
    When my mother appears, she’s already made up and dressed in navy slacks and a cute blue paisley blouse with turned-up cuffs.
    “I hope you slept well in the maid’s room,” Maggie says.
    My mother produces a beatific smile as she selects her usual jelly donut. “I always sleep like a baby, don’t I, Lou? Nothing on my conscience.”
    Meow. “So what’s on the docket for everybody today?” I ask.
    “Well, the funeral’s not till tomorrow,” Trixie murmurs, and Maggie spins toward my father. “I think they should read the will here at the house.”
    I get a brainstorm. “Excellent idea! How about in the library?”
    From behind Maggie, Shanelle winks at me. She knows about the secret room right off the library so she can guess