Manhunting in Mississippi by Stephanie Bond Read Free Book Online

you?”
    Janet walked to the cabinet and removed a rol of bandage, scissors and tape. “Lose the panty hose.” She grinned, flashing her braces. “Bet you haven’t heard that for a while.”
    “I’l ignore that remark.”
    “Hey, has your grandmother sold her house yet?”
    “No, but she’s moving this weekend.”
    “What a gorgeous place—those columns! I’d love to have it.”
    Silently, Piper agreed with her. Her grandmother’s house resembled a miniature plantation, two high-ceilinged stories of limestone, with grand round columns studding the
    deep, wraparound porch. But the beauty on the outside couldn’t begin to compare with the beautiful memories inside. The house represented al the good things about family that Piper had never been exposed to in her own home, and she wanted to own it more than anything. Which was why she needed to come up with something fabulous for Ian Bentley’s coffeehouses.
    A few minutes later, her wrapped ankle feeling much stronger, Piper made her way back to the elevator and up to her office where experience in the food lab had taught her to keep an extra change of clothes.
    “What happened to you?” her assistant, Rich Enderling, asked when she walked into her office.
    “Don’t ask.”
    “Okay,” he said slowly, scrutinizing her bare feet and wrapped ankle. He shrugged his wide shoulders and held up his hands in submission. Ironical y, auburn-headed Rich was one of the better-looking men in town. Rich had admitted to her his homosexuality a few weeks after joining Blythe, but revealed he hadn’t yet decided to live an openly gay lifestyle. The fact that he’d come to Mudvil e to buffer his attraction to men spoke volumes for the selection. “Piper, don’t forget, someone is coming this afternoon from the Bentley Group to talk about the new dessert.”
    She gave him a wry smile as she passed him on her way to her storage cabinet. “Thanks for the reminder.” After opening the cabinet, she removed clean jeans, a white T-shirt
    and a navy blazer, plus red canvas tennis shoes.
    “Uh, Piper?”
    She turned. “Yeah, Rich?”
    He gestured to her clothing. “Did somebody die?”
    Smiling sweetly, she slammed the cabinet door. “Yes—the next person who asks me that question.”
    Piper marched into the ladies’ room, and came to a toe-stubbing stop in front of the ful -length mirror. Her mouth dropped open in horror. Her hair alternately stood on end and lay flattened to her head, her clothing hung wrinkled, spattered and damp. Mascara flecked her cheeks. And her ankle looked huge.
    It was a good thing Ian Bentley was married—she’d never stop kicking herself if she thought she’d met an eligible man in her current state. She changed clothes and repaired
    her hair and makeup as best she could, glad when she could feel the painkil er Janet had given her kick in. She considered flushing the broken pumps down the toilet, but settled for slamming them into a metal trash can. Darn shoes! She’d paid a fortune for them years ago for somebody’s wedding and hadn’t worn them a half-dozen times since. Damn the man who invented these things! It was probably the same guy who invented panty hose.
    She half limped, half stomped back to her desk and stuffed the ruined clothes into a plastic bag, snatched a clean lab coat from the cabinet and hobbled down the hal to the food lab. She’d planned to spend the morning whipping up two or three experimental desserts for the Bentley Group representative. Now she’d probably have to do it al with him looking over her shoulder—if her appearance and behavior hadn’t spooked him into leaving altogether.
    “Here she is now,” Edmund said, his arms out to her and his face wreathed in smiles. A large room lined with counters, sinks and huge industrial-size stainless-steel appliances, the lab suddenly looked crowded with her boss, her assistant and her nemesis lined up against a counter, enjoying coffee and a sampler of Danishes