A Killer in the Rye by Delia Rosen Read Free Book Online

and the door swung open. Thomasina was standing behind it, ushering me in with a protective arm and a body check, like this was Studio 54 in its heyday. The door slammed shut behind me, almost taking the lipstick off Sommerton’s mouth.
    â€œThanks,” I said.
    I looked around at my full staff. They were relatively relaxed, except for Luke, who had his guard up a little.
    â€œNash, darlin’, you okay?” A.J. half smiled.
    â€œYeah.”
    Her twenty-year-old daughter sighed. “Sounds like y’all had quite an adventure. Sorry I didn’t start a day earlier.”
    â€œI will schedule the next homicide on one of your working days,” I told the nearly six-foot-tall Olive Oyl of a young woman.
    A.J. Two was not amused. “Y’know, Gwen, I’m a psychology major. We would call what you just did displacement, or Verschiebung in German, which means to ‘shift’ or ‘move.’”
    â€œSorry,” I said. “I was just trying to be funny.”
    â€œ Try harder! ” said Luke, playing the role of the heckler. He’d heard enough of them to know what they sounded like.
    â€œYou need to confront whatever is bothering you head-on,” A.J. Two continued.
    â€œI will, later,” I said. “All right, group, listen.” I ignored the tapping on the front door, did not even turn to scowl at Ms. Sommerton. “I will apologize to you all individually when I have the time. Right now, please accept a big, fat blanket apology so we can get to work. Deal?”
    Everyone nodded or repeated the word in the affirmative. Except Dani.
    â€œAre we opening today or just talking?” she asked.
    â€œWe’re opening,” I said. “And we’re preparing for a rescheduled catering gig Sunday night.”
    â€œOkay, good. Because I went through the bread to make sure there wasn’t blood on it, then went to the store and bought Wonder Bread, like Thomasina said, to serve people who might be a little sickened by the idea of bread truck bread. I don’t want all that work to be wasted.”
    â€œIt won’t be,” I assured her.
    â€œShe also bought Twinkies,” Thom added.
    â€œI thought people might like something cheerful today,” Dani said.
    I actually liked that idea. “Tell you what. Let’s give them away to all the kids.”
    New Yorkers would’ve been horrified by the idea of a free mega-sugar fix handed to their precious offspring. Down here that would be considered an act of great hospitality.
    â€œAnybody know how long the reporters have been here?” I asked.
    â€œSince last night,” Thom said. “I drove by to make sure the place was okay after they took the tape down. Our outside menus were all ripped off—souvenirs, I’m guessing.”
    â€œWe’ll have to watch that today with our regular menus,” I said.
    â€œRight,” A.J. the elder said. “Because they’re not a hundred years old and shouldn’t be replaced, like I’ve been suggesting.”
    â€œNot the time,” I pointed out.
    â€œNash, we’re all prepped, so I’m opening shop,” Thom said. “I’ll tell the press they can’t come in and film, but if they want to eat—”
    â€œThey’ll shoot with cell phones, anyway,” Luke said.
    â€œCan’t prevent that,” Thom said. “I just don’t want the bright lights.”
    â€œWhy not?” Dani asked. “Maybe we can get a tan.”
    I hoped that was a joke.
    Thom went to open the door. I heard her swear. I turned.
    Sommerton was interviewing the Repeat Returners. The ones who had heard my argument with the dead man’s wife.
    â€œShe was yellin’! ” Blondie exclaimed. “She was sayin’, ‘I better get my order first thing tomorrow or else’ and ‘You will be sorry, lady baker woman!’”
    Before I could stop myself, I elbowed past