Murder in the Marketplace by Lora Roberts Read Free Book Online

collided with someone else on the same errand. The man was trying to juggle his beer and a plate of chips. Most of the beer and half the chips ended on me.
    “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry.” He was nice looking, early forties, tall and lean, with blond hair falling over his forehead and blue eyes that were slightly shy. “So embarrassing.”
     “I didn’t look where I was reaching.” I brushed at the chips, and he dabbed my wet arm with a napkin.
    “How can I make it up to you? Gosh, there isn’t even any more guacamole to offer you.” He craned over and peered into the bowl. It was nice to be tall—I often wish I were.
    “That’s okay. It wasn’t really your fault.” At least the beer hadn’t gone on my wretched skirt. I was planning to gratify Drake by leaving the party early enough to get a couple of hours of the long evening twilight for my census work.
    Thinking about Drake, I glanced around the room and spotted him by the back door, talking to a swarthy fellow in a loud Hawaiian shirt. The door was open, letting in the aroma of roasting meat. I rarely eat meat, but for economic reasons, not moral ones. My mouth watered.
    “Listen, can I get you a drink?” The man in front of me hovered, still looking abashed. “There’s beer somewhere, or I think I saw some wine—”
    “Ed! Congratulations!” Emery came up and slapped the man on the shoulder in that painfully hearty way men have. “Heard about the new product.”
    “Thanks, Emery.” Ed’s face creased into a pleased smile. “We’re pretty excited.”
    Emery turned to me. “I was hoping you’d come, Liz. This is your current employer.” He flourished his hand, presenting me grandly. “Liz Sullivan, Ed Garfield, CEO of SoftWrite. Ed’s got a hot new software product coming out. When is it, next week?”
    “Officially, Monday.” Ed held a finger to his lips. “But actually we’re doing a bunch of stuff in the next couple of days to hype interest. Hard for a small company to get any ink without a major effort.”
    “I dunno.” Emery laughed. “From what I heard, MicroMax has given you a little free publicity.”
    Ed’s face clouded. “None of what you read is true,” he protested. “I don’t know where they got hold of a story like that. Our code’s developed entirely in-house. It’s completely original.”
    “Of course,” Emery said soothingly. “It’s just hot air from them. Every time us little guys turn around, some mega-company claims we stole from them. Shoe’s on the other foot, mostly.”
    “Right.” Ed sipped at his beer and realized it was empty. He turned another apologetic look on me. “I’ve poured my beer all over your guest. Liz, did you say? So you’re doing some temp work for us.”
    “Here you go, Liz.” Emery reached into a nearby drawer. “Here’s a towel.”
    "Thanks.” I blotted the beer off my arm.
    Ed hovered a little. “Now you won’t want to come back to SoftWrite, I guess. What do we have you doing?”
    “Data entry. This morning I did spreadsheets and mailing labels.”
    “Fascinating.” Emery wrinkled his nose. “Liz is a multi-talented person, Ed. She writes, gardens—and she’s even doing the census too.”
    “Really?” Ed looked a little doubtful.
    “I’m just temping mornings,” I hastened to explain. “Your office manager said that was fine for now.”
    “I would never interfere in Angel’s arrangements. She keeps everything running so well.” Ed gave me that nice grin, again. “So what are you doing for the census? I thought that was years ago.”
    "They miscounted.” I shrugged. “Now they’re counting again.
    “Typical government.” Emery shook his head. “If it wasn’t for putting some welcome income into Liz’s pocket, I’d really feel it was a waste of taxpayers’ dollars.”
    Drake came in the back door, heading for Emery. “The chicken wings are done,” he said, tenderly holding a small plate of them. “You’d better get them off the fire,