Leave No Stone Unturned (A Lexie Starr Mystery, Book 1) by Jeanne Glidewell Read Free Book Online

but for some reason, I loved it and was
     charmed by Harriet's eccentric style. Perhaps it was because it was in such sharp
     contrast to my own home that it appealed to me.
    I was relieved to feel very comfortable with the accommodations I'd booked over the
     Internet. As I undressed in the bathroom, I thought about how fortunate I was to have
     found this quaint little inn. It was ideal for me. I spent an hour lounging in a warm
     bath, nearly falling asleep in the deep, claw-footed tub. I then sent a quick e-mail
     to Wendy, stating only that I'd arrived safely at my destination and it had been an
     uneventful trip. I'd been on the road most of the day and I was exhausted. I logged
     off the computer, crawled into bed, and counted about two and a half sheep before
     drifting off into a much-needed slumber.
    * * *
    I woke up feeling refreshed the following morning, but still I didn't feel quite ready
     to begin delving into the mysterious disappearance and death of Clay's former wife.
     My procrastination tendencies were kicking in full force.
    When I'd registered the previous day, Harriet hadn't mentioned the "breakfast" half
     of her B&B services. It was only 7:45, but I thought maybe I could catch her up and
     about and talk her out of a cup of coffee. I needed a fix for my caffeine addiction
     before I did anything else.
    As I walked down the stairs, I heard lively music coming from the kitchen and recognized
     the tune as "Brick House" by The Commodores. I walked toward the sound of the music
     and found Harriet dancing and cleaning out the bottom of a large birdcage at the same
     time. It was an amusing and endearing sight.
    "Morning," came a high-pitched greeting that was barely discernible over the loud
     music. "Morning, sweetie," the voice repeated. I looked up and saw the red tail of
     an African gray parrot as it flitted behind a large kettle atop the refrigerator.
    Harriet flicked off the radio and turned toward me. "Morning, sleepyhead. Say hello
     to Sinbad." She gestured toward the parrot.
    "Good morning, Harriet," I said. "Good morning, Sinbad. You sure are a pretty thing."
    "Ah, horseshit," Sinbad responded as he paced back and forth across the appliance.
     "Horseshit, horseshit. Shut up, nasty thing. Sinbad's a bad boy, a bad boy. Damn bird."
    Harriet snapped her towel at the foul-mouthed parrot and muttered, "Damn nasty-mouthed
     bird." It was easy to see from whom Sinbad had learned his colorful vocabulary.
    "Did you sleep well, sweetie?" Harriet asked me. She gave me a cup from the cup rack
     and pointed toward a percolator on the stove.
    "Oh yes, I slept like a log," I said. "Just need a shot of coffee to wake me up."
     I poured what appeared to be half coffee and half coffee grounds into a coffee cup
     labeled "Lady Luck Casino." I could easily picture Harriet slamming quarters into
     a slot machine and cussing like Sinbad when it didn't pay out.
    I took a swallow of coffee and almost spat it out across the kitchen floor. I was
     wide awake instantly. This coffee even made the espresso I normally drank seem weak
     and vapid. After a few sips of Harriet's stout coffee, I'd be bouncing off the walls.
     It had to have been brewing for a long time. Harriet must have gotten up hours ago,
     I decided.
    "Good, that's good. I was just thinking I otter go up and put a mirror under yer nose
     to see if you's still breathing," Harriet said. "Breakfast is served at six 'round
     here. I made your breakfast fer ya but tossed it out after a spell when ya didn't
     show up."
    "Oh, Harriet, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize..."
    Did Harriet forget she hadn't told me about breakfast, or did she just assume that
     everyone got up at the crack of dawn for a six o'clock feeding? With a sweep of her
     hand, Harriet waved off my apology. "S'okay, I knew ya had a long day yesterday, so
     I let ya be lazy and sleep in late. But after this, be down here at six fer breakfast.
     Ya hear?"
    Oh my! I had gone and enlisted in boot