Norway to Hide by Maddy Hunter Read Free Book Online Page A

book.”
    “DICK, GET OVER HERE!” Helen Teig’s voice flew off the decibel chart. “SOMEONE’S IN OUR SEATS!”
    “Uh-oh, you better get over there, Emily.” Jackie shielded herself behind me and nudged me forward. “Looks like trouble.”
    “And whose fault is that? So help me, Jack—”
    The Dicks, their wives, and the rest of the group huddled near the occupied tables with their arms full of takeout and their eyes throwing daggers, paring knives, and a few spitballs—the Iowa version of Gun-fight at the O.K. Corral . “Those are our seats,” huffed Dick Teig.
    Portia Van Cleef elevated her chin at an imperious angle. “Obviously, if we’re sitting in them, they’re our seats.”
    “We were here first,” Dick Stolee protested.
    “And then you left,” said Portia. “Sorry.”
    “Emily was supposed to save those seats for us!” sniped Lucille Rassmuson.
    Portia took a calm sip of her drink. “She didn’t do a very good job of it, did she?”
    “She doesn’t do a very good job of anything,” grumbled Bernice.
    “There’s been a terrible mixup,” I explained as Iinserted myself between the two groups, “but I know we can fix the problem with minimum inconvenience to everyone.” The number one rule of being a successful tour escort was to sound as if you knew what you were doing, even if you didn’t have a clue.
    Portia smiled without humor. “Really, Emily, our only problem is how to make your group disappear so the rest of us can enjoy our meals.”
    “Okay, blondie, I’ve had all I’m going to take of you.” Bernice stepped out from the group like a self-deputized Wyatt Earp. “Give up the seat.”
    “That’s not going to happen,” said Portia.
    “You better do what she says,” warned Dick Teig. “She’s armed with Diet Coke.”
    “And she just shook the can,” added Helen.
    I stabbed my finger at Bernice. “You will not open that can anywhere around here. Understood? We’re going to find a way to accommodate—”
    “You tiresome little troll,” Portia flung at Bernice. “Are you vying for the title of most irritating person on the planet? News flash. You’ve won, so go crawl back under your rock. We’ll be able to digest our food much better if we don’t have to look at you.”
    Bernice’s face glazed over with justifiable shock. Who would have thought that Portia could sound more like Bernice than Bernice herself?
    “Come on, ladies,” I appealed, “we don’t have to resort to name-calling.”
    Portia laughed. “Calling her a troll was a compliment.”
    Gasps from the Iowans. Silence from the Floridians.
    Bernice stood statue-still, looking small and unexpectedly wounded. “You’ll be sorry you said that,” she vowed in a steely voice.
    Portia let out a tedious sigh. “I seriously doubt that.”
    “There’s a table opening up by the water!” George Farkas yelled. “Run for it!”
    They took off like stampeding wildebeest, proving that when it came to priorities, nursing a grudge would always lose out to nursing their appetites.
    Click clack click clack click. Jackie’s stilettoes sent up a Gatling gun clatter as she joined us. “Thank goodness that’s over. Isn’t it nice how another table opened up? Some problems are so easy to solve.”
    “Yeah, especially if you pass them off to other people.” I narrowed my eyes. “Weren’t you about to die from heat stroke?”
    “I’m so much better now that I’m rehydrated.” She touched Portia’s forearm. “When I fly down for my book signing, I’ll have to bring Joleen something special to repay her for her kindness.”
    “About your book signing,” Portia demurred. “There’s been a slight change of plans.”
    “You want me to come in August instead of July? I can do that. My schedule—”
    “Actually, I don’t want you to come at all.”
    Jackie looked confused. “Not come? Why not?”
    “Because I finished reading that rubbish you gave me last night. You don’t honestly expect people