Read Online Uncommon Grounds by Sandra Balzo - Free Book Online

your time?”
    Caron nodded and smiled back. “I recognize you from your campaign literature, Sheriff.” Before my very eyes, Caron had gone from trapped animal to coquette.
    As for myself, I needed to get out. And now. I flung open the door and started down the walk, talking to Caron over my shoulder as I went. “I’ll call L’Cafe to see if we can get a loaner installed this afternoon. The sheriff says we can get back into the shop around two.”
    I was at the van, fumbling to get my keys out of my purse, when Pavlik called my name. I had to force myself to turn and look back. He and Caron still stood in the doorway. Caron had a puzzled look on her face.
    Pavlik smiled politely, a different man than the one who had mentally assaulted me just now. “Ms. Thorsen, where will I find you later?”
    I struggled to control my voice, show a little bravado even. “L’Cafe or Uncommon Grounds maybe. You’ll just have to find me.”
    Pavlik raised his eyebrows. “Oh, believe me, Ms. Thorsen, if I want you, I will.”

Chapter Six
    After Caron and Pavlik closed the door, I sat in my van trying to get the shaking under control. I must have sat there for twenty minutes before I finally reached for the ignition, and then only because I didn’t want to still be there when Pavlik came out.
    I put the van into reverse. My foot was trembling so badly on the accelerator that the Caravan bucked all the way down the driveway. Stopping at the end, I waited for traffic on Pleasant to pass.
    Damn Pavlik. And damn me. I’d fed him just the reaction he’d probably been after. But did he really believe I’d killed Patricia? The whole idea was ridiculous.
    Melodramatic.
    Scary as hell.
    So what did he expect me to do now? Run?
    I stepped on the gas and the van shot backwards out onto the street right in front of a Lexus. The Lexus’ horn blared and the driver swerved around me, taking the time to throw me the finger as he did.
    I waved back and drove myself to the police station. Gary took one look at my face and led me back to his office, where I sat as he poured us each a cup of coffee.
    “Milk?” Gary asked, handing me a mug.
    Having experienced Gary’s idea of coffee, I nodded. At Uncommon Grounds, our policy was to dump any pot that sat on the heating element longer than thirty minutes. Gary, on the other hand, preferred his coffee “aged,” like fine wine. But who was I to look a caffeinated gift horse in the mouth?
    Gary went to his fridge and pulled out a red and white half-pint of whole milk that looked suspiciously like he’d filched it from Brookhills Elementary the last time he did his “Stranger Danger” talk. I wondered how long ago that had been.
    Apparently so did Gary. He dumped half the carton into his own mug and peered into its depths before declaring the milk “okay” and sliding it over to me.
    It was sort of like having a royal taster in times of yore. Or a canary in the mines. I used the rest of the carton in my coffee, transforming it from black sludge to gray sludge, and took a sip.
    “Better?” Gary asked, watching me.
    “Much, thank you,” I said hoarsely.
    “I take it Pavlik made an appearance at Caron’s?”
    He smiled and I cracked a little one back at him. “You could say that. The man certainly knows how to hold an audience.”
    I told Gary what Pavlik had said and how he’d said it.
    He listened, his face stony. “He’s just trying to scare you, Maggy. That kind of stuff probably works in Chicago.”
    “But why me?” Shades of Nancy Kerrigan.
    Gary shrugged. “He’s probably not interested in you any more than he’s interested in David or Caron. Just somebody who’ll give him a quick solution and make him look like a big shot.”
    “So you don’t think—”
    Gary stood up. “You didn’t do anything, Maggy. So there’s no way he can prove you did.”
    I opened my mouth and he raised his hand. “Forget it. If he gives you more problems, you let me know and I’ll take care