Farmed and Dangerous by Edith Maxwell Read Free Book Online

a hint of delight at his friend’s triumph.
    He took the last sip of his wine. “Congratulations, my dear. How many wins in a row is that?”
    â€œI shouldn’t keep track.” Her blue eyes smiled under long, curly lashes. “But since you ask, eight since we started playing. You won the first three, don’t forget.” Marilyn’s round cheeks pinkened. Cam would have to ask Albert sometime why she needed the walker.
    â€œYou did that like butter, Mrs. Muller.” Ellie nodded and gave a thumbs-up gesture to Marilyn.
    â€œThank you, young lady.”
    Cam’s phone buzzed in her bag. She retrieved it and checked the new text message. “Oh, no.”
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” Albert’s forehead creased.
    Cam pushed her chair back and stood. “I have a dinner date, and I lost track of time. Good thing he asked me to pick up a bottle of wine.” She glanced at the time on the phone. “I’ll barely have time to get home and put the chickens in for the night.”
    â€œOff you go, then.”
    â€œThis was really fun. I very much enjoyed meeting you, Marilyn.” Touching Marilyn’s shoulder, Cam leaned down to give Albert a kiss.
    â€œWe’ll do it again,” Marilyn said.
    Albert nodded with a smile. He covered Marilyn’s hand with his own.
    â€œSee you, Ellie,” Cam called, walking out of the room.
    Should she pop into the kitchen and see how the meal preparation was going? No, she needed to get home and then to Pete’s, and she didn’t imagine Rosemary would appreciate the visit, anyway. On her way, she paused at the receptionist’s desk to sign out and then remembered she’d brought the vegetables in through the back door to the kitchen. She glanced up at the framed picture, a striking photograph of Moran Manor in the fall. Leaves in different shades clung to the trees, and pots of mums lined the walkway. The yellowy-brown sepia tint gave the picture a timeless feel, despite showing the residence’s modern ramp railings and double-hung windows. If Frank had created this, he had real talent. Ruth had never mentioned her husband’s photography.
    She headed for the front door. She was about to reach for the handle when the door began to swing open, so she stepped away.
    â€œExcuse me.” Ginger Montgomery sailed in with a rush of cold air, nearly whacking Cam with the door. The beret perched on Ginger’s head matched her white quilted jacket. “I’m going up to see my mother,” she told the receptionist in an imperious tone and swept up the stairs. The scent she wore trailed behind her.
    Cam could only imagine the fireworks that might be shooting out of Bev’s room in a minute. She imagined the pyrotechnic combination of Bev, Frank, and Ginger could be downright lethal.

Chapter 5
    â€œY ou should have seen that silly hen,” Cam said to Pete an hour later. She perched on a stool at the island in his kitchen and watched his smooth-skinned hands chop vegetables. “TopKnot just stood there in the cold. The true definition of a pea brain.” She‘d been only a few minutes late, since the farm lay between Moran Manor and Pete’s apartment in nearby Newburyport. She’d raced through a quick shower at home, too, since she hadn’t had time earlier.
    â€œI have my mother’s recipe for avgolemono. Lemon chicken soup would work just as well with a frozen chicken—”
    â€œPete Pappas.” Cam shook her finger at him. “Don’t you even consider cooking poor, stupid TopKnot.” She sipped the red wine he’d poured into a wide-bowled glass for her.
    â€œJust saying.” He waved the knife he held in the air with a wicked smile.
    â€œWhat’s on the menu for tonight?”
    â€œNonlocal lamb chops. My special Greek nonlocal eggplant-tomato bake and nonlocal potatoes.” He frowned playfully. “Can you manage to eat