Gotcha! by Fern Michaels Read Free Book Online Page A

and was glad there was no one within earshot to hear them. The other news was just as stupid as what she’d just heard. Nothing seemed to be forthcoming about Mace Carlisle and his problems. One would think tampering with the FDA and a new kids’ drug would be the top news. Maybe the seven o’clock news would have something. She rarely was up this early to watch the news. So she didn’t know what the order of news stories was this early in the day. She switched to the Weather Channel—and wished she hadn’t. Rain for the day starting midmorning. Well, sometimes the weatherman was wrong; she could hope.
    The forecast meant that Cooper was going to be rolling in puddles, as water was his best friend. Not so Gracie, who liked to keep her nails dry. Gracie particularly liked the scarlet hibiscus polish the groomer had put on her nails last week. Gracie also liked the red bow the groomer tied around her neck with each visit. Cooper hated his blue bow, and Gracie always tugged it off him. And then they would tussle with it for hours on end until it was nothing but strings.
    Julie continued to sit at the counter, woolgathering, as her mother used to say when she was deep in thought. She looked down when she felt Cooper nudge her leg. She got up, ruffled the place between his ears, turned off the alarm, and opened the door. The dogs were out and back within minutes, at which point she scribbled off a note and handed it to Gracie. She opened the door again, and both dogs sprinted off to the cottage.
    Julie made a second pot of coffee, mixed batter for pancakes, and nuked some bacon. She fired up the electric griddle, and while it was heating up, she beat some eggs into a frothy foam. Breakfast would be served on hard plastic plates. Paper napkins were the order of the day. Fresh cantaloupe would finish off the meal.
    She had a full day, and she had yet to decide what would be on her dinner menu. But she had plenty of time to come up with something that would be worthy of space in her dream cookbook. And if not, oh, well.
    Thirty minutes later, everything was good to go for the minute her tenant showed up with the dogs. She was back on her perch at the counter, but now the television was tuned to the Shopping Channel. No sense alerting her tenant that she was an inveterate news watcher.
    Hands jammed into her pockets, Julie felt the piece of paper she’d transferred so many times she’d lost count. She really had to make a decision. Maybe she should round up her kids and take them to lunch and talk it to death. Maybe she needed to call the New York lawyer who handled her business affairs first. Arnie Rosen had been her lawyer as well as a good and loyal friend for twenty-five years. She knew in her gut he was going to pitch a fit, but at least he would know what to do and offer up some sound advice, which she would either follow or not. Hopefully, he would understand what she was going through. Hopefully.
    She heard the joyful barks of the dogs as they barreled up the steps that led to the kitchen door. She’d installed little platforms between the steps years ago when her old dog, Cyrus, an Australian herder, couldn’t do steps anymore. She heard the light knock on the door. She smiled at her tenant, who looked freshly showered and shaved. “Good morning, Oliver. How did you sleep in your new digs?” she asked cheerfully.
    “Like a baby. I opened all the windows, and crickets put me to sleep. This morning, the birds and the sun woke me. It was wonderful. It reminded me in many ways of where I used to live as a child. It smells good in here.”
    “Don’t get too excited about the sun. The weatherman is predicting rain, but I think he’s wrong this time.” Julie laughed as she poured Mace coffee and cut him a huge wedge of melon. “Go ahead and eat while I make the pancakes. I suppose I should have asked, are you a breakfast eater?”
    “Very much so. But sometimes I don’t have the time. To be more accurate, I