Glazed Murder by Jessica Beck Read Free Book Online

appreciate the sentiment," she said as she fought to wrestle them away from me.
     
I held on tight, though. "I'm sorry, but my orders were clear. I'm supposed to give these to Mr. Klein directly," I said.
     
"Sorry, but he's in a meeting. He wanted me to tell you that he thanks you for the donuts, and hopes you have a nice day."
     
She had one corner of the box within her grasp, and I had the other. "Are you sure he doesn't have a minute? I'd be more than happy to wait. This will just take a second, and it was Mr. Blaine's wish that he get them."
     
For a little thing, her strength surprised me. I don'tknow how she did it, but she managed to snatch the box from me completely. "As I said, he's in a meeting and he can't be disturbed."
     
"Do you honestly mean to say he can't give me thirty seconds to deliver them personally?"
     
"Not even one. He's with the head building inspector for the county. I'll be sure to tell him you dropped by, though."
     
Then she practically shoved me out the door, and I found myself sitting in my Jeep, without a clue as to what had just happened. I had to hand it to her, she was good.
     
I thought about what I should do next, but I was tired from my long day, and was already getting hungry again. It was nearing dinnertime for the rest of the world, six o'clock, and two hours past when I normally ate. That was another problem with my schedule. I tended to be out of sync with everyone else. Maybe I could use that to my advantage this time, though I wasn't quite sure how to do it; not yet, anyway.
     
I drove home, knowing I would get a barrage of questions from Momma, but frankly, not caring. I usually fussed at her for being a mother hen, but just this once, I hoped she had a hot meal waiting for me, and some quiet conversation.
     
As it turned out, I might as well have wished for the next day's winning lottery numbers, because it was clear the second I walked in the door that I wasn't going to get either dinner or a nice chat.
     
"There's no food?" I asked as I walked into the kitchen. Momma was sitting at the table doing acrossword puzzle. We lived in a lovely little cottage together, with lots of built-in cabinets and beautiful wood molding and trim everywhere. It wasn't a huge place, but so far, we'd managed to make it work.
     
"I just didn't feel like cooking tonight," she said.
     
"When did you ever not feel like cooking," I said as I slumped down on the chair beside her. The day had taken a toll on me, a bigger one than I was used to. My mother was known for her Southern-style food, and I'd been counting on some comfort coming my way with a knife and a fork.
     
"I didn't feel like it today," she said. "When you didn't come home at your regular time, I assumed you'd get something to eat on your own."
     
"So you already ate," I said.
     
She snapped the paper. "No, I waited for you, just in case." She studied me for a second, then asked, "Have you eaten?"
     
"No," I admitted.
     
"Suzanne, you have to start taking care of yourself. I'm not going to be around forever, you know."
     
"Why, where are you going? Is it someplace warm? Can I tag along?"
     
She was ready to snap at me when she looked up and noticed my grin. "You're incorrigible, you know that, don't you?"
     
"I learned from the best, Momma."
     
She accepted it for the apology it was, and smiled. "So, what should we have? How do waffles sound?"
     
That was our standby meal, something we made when we were both too tired to do much of anythingelse, and didn't want to go out and face the world.
     
"That sounds great. Do you mind if I grab a shower first?"
     
"Take your time. I'll have the first one ready by the time you're back downstairs."
     
Okay, I admit it, it's not all bad living back home with my mother. I took a long, hot shower--getting the day's cooking smells out of my hair--and came back into the kitchen a new woman, or at least an improved version of the old one.
     
"That smells divine," I said as the