Lethal Lasagna by Rhonda Gibson Read Free Book Online Page B

hard she’d have wet her pants. When we turned forty, she started doing that a lot when she’d get tickled.
    So far, all I’d managed to do while retracing Mitzi’s steps was find a handsome man and embarrass myself with him. I had to ask myself if I should continue with this quest. So far, I’d gotten nowhere finding Mitzi’s killer.
    I’d planned on attending her church tomorrow morning. Doubts rose as to whether that was such a good idea or not. Then I remembered the first cheerleader at the auction. What is her name? Carrie? Maybe. She attends my church. I groaned. By the time services let out, everyone would know that I had bought one very handsome college professor.
    I refused to believe I was going to Mitzi’s church to avoid my own church family. Really, I’m not. I’m going to see if I can get a lead on who killed my best friend.
    Sure you are. It’s comments like that, that make me wish I could shut off that inner voice.
    Okay that was part of it, but I still want to know who killed Mitzi and why.
    Sprocket pulled me along as my thoughts moved in the direction of planning to attend Mitzi’s church. I’d need to look in the phone book and see if the times were listed for the services. Then, I’d lay something out to wear before making meatloaf for dinner.
    Happy to have those plans in place, I looked about the neighborhood. Summer was slowly turning to fall. The late afternoon sun didn’t feel as hot as it had in the last few days. My gaze moved to the trees. Oak and Cedar lined the streets. The oaks were showing slight signs of color change. This lifted my spirits as autumn is my favorite time of the year.
    Back at the house, I turned Sprocket loose in the front yard. He sat at my feet and looked up at me with those big brown eyes. I was sure it was his way of telling me I hadn’t paid any attention to him on our walk.
    I knelt and rubbed him behind his shaggy ears. His head moved into the palm of my hand, and his tongue snaked out for a kiss on the arm. Dogs are wonderful for those of us living alone. They give us love and affection even after they’ve been ignored.
    “How about a game of ball?” I asked, giving his head a final pat and pushing myself upwards. My knees creaked.
    Sprocket took off like a shot. He ran the fence line looking for the old yellow tennis ball that he loved to fetch for me. His tail went up into the air, and he gave a happy yelp as he scooped up the toy and returned to my side.
    I took the ball and gave it a toss. He returned it with much wagging of the tail. Dropping it at my feet, Sprocket turned to see where I would throw it next.
    The sound of a pickup pulling into my driveway drew our attention. Sprocket gave a sharp bark.
    Brandon Harvest waved and got out.
    I thought I’d escaped him for the day. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy his company. It’s just that having him around causes me to behave, strangely, badly, and embarrassingly.
    He came around the vehicle and stood beside the fence, gazing over it at us. “I hope you don’t mind me dropping by, but I wanted to give this back to you. In my defense, I did try to call.”
    I recognized the check he held out. It was the one I’d written to the school. What was he doing with it?
    As if he could read my thoughts, Brandon leaned against the rails. “I paid the school the money you bid for me. In all good conscience I wouldn’t let you pay for a date with me, that you didn’t want to take.”
    I folded the check. “I see. You were willing earlier today to let me bid and win you for a date. What changed?”
    “Nothing. I had full plans of paying for the price of a date with me. So in a way it worked out. Only now, you’ve made it very plain you don’t want to date me. Good day, Claire.” He pushed away from the fence and walked slowly back to the pickup.
    I wanted to say something but didn’t know what to say. If I said, oh I do want to date you...would he think I was a desperate woman?