Read Online Weeding Out Trouble by Heather Webber - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Heather Webber
Tags: Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Contemporary Women, Quinn; Nina (Fictitious character)
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Kevin asked once I hung up.
"He's quite handsome."
"Testy, I bet," Joe said. "Those roosters always are."
Kevin and I looked at him.
"Grew up on a farm," he mumbled, draining the last of his coffee.
"Shouldn't you two be leaving now?" I asked Joe.
"We thought we'd just hang around for a while longer," Lewy said after finishing his call.
I could have argued about civil liberties and warrants and such, but decided to take an easier way out. "Fine by me. I'm going to go take a shower." I started up the stairs, then stopped. "Oh, I should let BeBe in first."
Outside, I unhooked BeBe from her lead, and she galloped into the house, leaving her snowman behind. Apparently her crush had been fleeting.
I ran up the stairs as she pranced around the living room, licking, slobbering, drooling, and shaking wet fur.
It wasn't long before I heard the front door close and saw the two detectives walking toward the street.
I had the uneasy feeling I'd be seeing a lot more of them.
Eight
In times of stress I take to my drawing pad. And if this wasn't a stressful time, I didn't know what was. Never mind that Kit was missing. Or that Daisy was dead. Or that there was a poultry pestilence going on in the Mill.
No, my brain had already filed away those mind-numbing morsels in a corner labeled Deal with Later.
My current elevated stress hit a little closer to home.
From my spot on the floor, I glanced up at my bed, though I didn't need visual confirmation for what I was hearing.
My mother snored.
So did BeBe.
It was all a girl could do to stay sane.
The forty watt glow of my table lamp was just enough light for me to work. I picked a purple oil pastel out of its case and colored in foxglove. I used my pinkie to blend. I was working on a design board for Alice Graeme, a sweet old lady who'd heard of Taken by Surprise through the Mill's grapevine. She and her sister, May, lived a few blocks over, technically out of the neighborhood, but I'd learned never to underestimate the power of the Mill's gossiping abilities. Alice had hired me to do a backyard makeover for May this coming spring, and my head swam with ideas for the pair.
I stretched out my legs, rolled my shoulders. Under ordinary circumstances my bedroom floor wasn't the ideal place to work. But these weren't ordinary times, and there wasn't anywhere else for me to go.
Downstairs was occupado with Kevin. Downstairs I would feel obligated to talk to him. Downstairs we might have to discuss that phone call I'd overheard.
I was avoiding downstairs like the plague.
Riley's room was off-limits. Never mind the fact that he was in there—Xena was in there. Xena was Riley's pet boa constrictor. We had a love/hate relationship. Mostly, I loved to hate her. The deal was that as long as Riley took care of her, he could live. If, for some reason, Xena managed to escape again, like she did last spring, Riley knew I'd hunt him down.
I had boundaries.
Speaking of boundaries, I rose up on my knees and peered out the bottom of my window at the house across the street. My shade was pulled down three-quarters of the way—just enough to see that the lights were on at Bobby's, as if beckoning me over.
I felt beckoned.
And tempted.
It was odd having Bobby across the street. Don't get me wrong, I loved having him there. But it was strange being here , with him there . I always felt as though the neighbors knew when I went over—and stayed the night. It was worse than if we'd moved in together.
So, I tried to set limits for myself. Tried to keep things the way they would be if he lived across town and not two hundred feet away.
My mother snorted and rolled over, causing BeBe to snort and roll over too. I thought about taking a picture for this year's Christmas card, but I valued my life.
I sunk back down, trying not to think about Bobby. I shuffled him off into another corner of my brain labeled, Keep Your Pants On. It was a dusty corner, rarely used.
Which said volumes about how
"He's quite handsome."
"Testy, I bet," Joe said. "Those roosters always are."
Kevin and I looked at him.
"Grew up on a farm," he mumbled, draining the last of his coffee.
"Shouldn't you two be leaving now?" I asked Joe.
"We thought we'd just hang around for a while longer," Lewy said after finishing his call.
I could have argued about civil liberties and warrants and such, but decided to take an easier way out. "Fine by me. I'm going to go take a shower." I started up the stairs, then stopped. "Oh, I should let BeBe in first."
Outside, I unhooked BeBe from her lead, and she galloped into the house, leaving her snowman behind. Apparently her crush had been fleeting.
I ran up the stairs as she pranced around the living room, licking, slobbering, drooling, and shaking wet fur.
It wasn't long before I heard the front door close and saw the two detectives walking toward the street.
I had the uneasy feeling I'd be seeing a lot more of them.
Eight
In times of stress I take to my drawing pad. And if this wasn't a stressful time, I didn't know what was. Never mind that Kit was missing. Or that Daisy was dead. Or that there was a poultry pestilence going on in the Mill.
No, my brain had already filed away those mind-numbing morsels in a corner labeled Deal with Later.
My current elevated stress hit a little closer to home.
From my spot on the floor, I glanced up at my bed, though I didn't need visual confirmation for what I was hearing.
My mother snored.
So did BeBe.
It was all a girl could do to stay sane.
The forty watt glow of my table lamp was just enough light for me to work. I picked a purple oil pastel out of its case and colored in foxglove. I used my pinkie to blend. I was working on a design board for Alice Graeme, a sweet old lady who'd heard of Taken by Surprise through the Mill's grapevine. She and her sister, May, lived a few blocks over, technically out of the neighborhood, but I'd learned never to underestimate the power of the Mill's gossiping abilities. Alice had hired me to do a backyard makeover for May this coming spring, and my head swam with ideas for the pair.
I stretched out my legs, rolled my shoulders. Under ordinary circumstances my bedroom floor wasn't the ideal place to work. But these weren't ordinary times, and there wasn't anywhere else for me to go.
Downstairs was occupado with Kevin. Downstairs I would feel obligated to talk to him. Downstairs we might have to discuss that phone call I'd overheard.
I was avoiding downstairs like the plague.
Riley's room was off-limits. Never mind the fact that he was in there—Xena was in there. Xena was Riley's pet boa constrictor. We had a love/hate relationship. Mostly, I loved to hate her. The deal was that as long as Riley took care of her, he could live. If, for some reason, Xena managed to escape again, like she did last spring, Riley knew I'd hunt him down.
I had boundaries.
Speaking of boundaries, I rose up on my knees and peered out the bottom of my window at the house across the street. My shade was pulled down three-quarters of the way—just enough to see that the lights were on at Bobby's, as if beckoning me over.
I felt beckoned.
And tempted.
It was odd having Bobby across the street. Don't get me wrong, I loved having him there. But it was strange being here , with him there . I always felt as though the neighbors knew when I went over—and stayed the night. It was worse than if we'd moved in together.
So, I tried to set limits for myself. Tried to keep things the way they would be if he lived across town and not two hundred feet away.
My mother snorted and rolled over, causing BeBe to snort and roll over too. I thought about taking a picture for this year's Christmas card, but I valued my life.
I sunk back down, trying not to think about Bobby. I shuffled him off into another corner of my brain labeled, Keep Your Pants On. It was a dusty corner, rarely used.
Which said volumes about how
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