Murder in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery by Meg Muldoon Read Free Book Online Page B

without any conversation.
    I gripped the cold wooden railing, and bit down on my lip, an anger surging up from my core like a dragon.
    She may have taken my husband. There was no contest there. I’d lost that battle, hands down.
    But there was no way in the roaring fiery furnaces of hell that she was going to steal this gingerbread competition from me.
    Over my dead body.
    I took a deep breath and started walking. The cold was setting in, and I needed to get back to the shop.
    I had a lot of work to do there.
     

Chapter 12
     
    When I got back, John was waiting for me outside. His cheeks were bright red, like he’d been standing out in front of the closed sign since I left.
    In my shock, I’d forgotten that he showed up at the shop at exactly noon each day. You could set a timer to him. 
    “I’m so sorry, John!” I said, quickly pulling my keys out from my jean pocket and unlocking the front door. “I just needed some fresh air.”
    He nodded, rubbing his hands together for warmth. I held the door open for him and he walked in, taking his seat at the usual leather booth near the window. He took his beanie hat off, revealing his clean-cut graying hair.
    I took my scarf off, and put it in the back. I quickly wrapped my frilly cowgirl apron around my waist, and came back out.
    “The usual today?” I asked.
    He nodded. He shook with a visible chill. 
    Needless to say, I felt rotten.
    I went back behind the counter and pulled out the strawberry rhubarb pie, slicing it and placing it on one of the special holiday plates.
    I only ever made the rhubarb pie for him these days. I myself had never been a big fan of that flavor combination, and it was rarely ever ordered by anybody else this time of year. But John was insistent on ordering it every time. I didn’t know why. He never even finished it, and I got the impression he didn’t even really like it. Or any other pie, for that matter.
    Still, he was close to being my most loyal customer. I always made a point of having that pie in the shop.
    “How’s your day been so far?” I asked when I came around the counter with the plate and a mug of steaming coffee.
    “It’s been just fine,” he said, clearing his throat. “A little chilly, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”
    I clicked my tongue against the top of my mouth.
    “Sorry about that again,” I said, shaking my head. “I just felt like I needed to get out of the kitchen for a while.”
    He took a sip of his coffee. I went to the front and turned the sign around to say “open.”
    “Is something bothering you?” he asked.
    I hesitated for a moment. I thought about telling him, but then something stopped me from doing it.
    “I just burned a batch of pies by accident,” I said. “It’s just a real pain in the ass. I’m going to be here all night trying to make up for it.”
    “That doesn’t sound like you,” he said, playing with piece of pie in front of him but not really eating it. “What happened?”
    I sighed.
    “I got distracted,” I said.
    I started to leave the table to take my place behind the counter when he stuck a hand out in front of my path to stop me.
    He took another sip of his coffee and then cleared his throat free of phlegm.
    “Listen,” he said “I could help you, you know. I’m no Julia Childs in the kitchen, but I’m not completely incompetent either. After I close up the practice tonight I could come back here and help you bake your pies.”
    Now it was my turn to clear my throat.
    “Jeez,” I said. “That’s so kind of you, John, but I don’t want to put you out like that. I’m the one that burnt the pies. It’s my mess to clean up.”
    “You wouldn’t be putting me out,” he said. “It’d be my pleasure. Maybe I could take you to dinner afterwards.” 
    My stomach started churning with uneasiness.
    For nearly a year, I knew this day was coming. I also knew that when it did come, I’d be unsure what to do when he asked.
    Like I said. I wasn’t completely