Chocolate Covered Murder by Leslie Meier Read Free Book Online Page A

used to have all of Wednesday afternoon and Thursday morning free. It was valuable time she used to catch up with her friends and polish off some errands. But Ted had come back from a recent productivity seminar full of ideas, one of which was the budget meeting. Lucy thought the meeting was actually counterproductive—she’d often gathered valuable news tips as she went about town with her list of errands, crossing off grocery shopping at the IGA, vacuum cleaner bags at the hardware store, wine at the liquor store, and mailing bills at the post office. Ted didn’t see it that way, however, and now she had to come in at ten instead of twelve-thirty on Thursdays. She didn’t even pick up any extra pay; in fact, her salary didn’t begin to cover the time she actually worked because she often stayed late at the office on the days the girls had after-school activities and needed a ride home.
    The new system had only been in place for a couple of weeks and Lucy wasn’t in a good mood when she got to the office. Ted, however, was bursting with ideas.
    â€œGood, you’re here,” he announced, turning his desk chair around so it faced the room and pulling over two more chairs to form a circle. “We can get started. Phyllis, that means you, too. Put the phone on voice mail, please.”
    Giving him an evil look, Phyllis punched a few buttons before pushing her chair back and getting to her feet. She hated leaving her comfortable area behind the reception counter, where her chair was just right and items like her enormous pump bottle of Jergens lotion and a big box of tissues were at hand, along with a photo of her husband. She perched uneasily on the chair Ted indicated, then shoved it aside and went back to her desk, wheeling her preferred chair across the office and seating herself.
    Lucy was already in place, wrestling with the problem of Sara’s job at Fern’s Famous, which meant she would need a ride home at five-thirty.
    â€œLet’s begin,” said Ted, rubbing his hands together. “Lucy, you have the usual selectmen’s meeting. I’ll take the school committee and the conservation committee, that should be a hot one because of the proposed toilets at the town beach.”
    â€œAbout time,” said Phyllis. “Those Porta-Potties stink.”
    â€œAPTC wants those ecological earth closets, composting toilets,” said Ted. “They’re up in arms over a septic system so close to the cove.”
    â€œThat’s not news,” said Lucy, who knew the letters stood for the Association for the Preservation of Tinker’s Cove. “They’re always up in arms.”
    â€œI’ll follow up on the Max Fraser investigation,” said Ted, consulting his notebook.
    Lucy started to protest but he brushed her objections aside. “I’ve got something else in mind for you, Lucy.” He turned to Phyllis. “You handle the events calendar. Is there anything I should be aware of?”
    Phyllis gave him a look. “How the heck am I supposed to know? It’s only Thursday, I haven’t even started.”
    â€œOh.” Ted looked disconcerted. “When you file the press releases, don’t you read them?”
    Phyllis sighed. “No. I don’t have time. I scan them for the date, that’s all. So I can file them.”
    â€œWell, in the future, perhaps you could just look them over and make copies for me of the important ones,” suggested Ted.
    Phyllis heaved her bust, a gesture that usually boded trouble, and Lucy pressed her lips together, trying not to smile. “I told you. I don’t have time to read them or decide which is important. How do I know, anyway? Is a bake sale important? What about a roast beef dinner at the VFW? How do I decide?”
    Ted wasn’t about to give up. “Well, a production by the Harbor Players would be more important than a bake sale, for example.”
    Phyllis