Statue of Limitations by Tamar Myers Read Free Book Online Page A

nice,” Nick said. He flashed me a smile that, had it reflected off a tin roof, could have put someone’s eyes out. “We’re the Papadopouluses, by the way.”
    â€œWe’ll meet you there,” Irena snapped.
    I got my petite patootie out of there before she changed her mind.
    Â 
    I had parked along the seawall, so I took the opportunity to enjoy the view while I called for backup. I may act foolishly from time to time, but Iwasn’t about to dine unchaperoned with two strangers from the Big Apple, especially since one of them was so hostile. With my luck, they’d slip me a Mickey, then pretend I was drunk so they could carry me out, and then the next thing I’d know, I’d find myself in the harem of a third-world potentate.
    My friend and colleague, Bob Steuben, picked up on the first ring. “The Finer Things,” he said, referring to the name of the antique store he co-owns with his partner Rob.
    â€œBob, darling, what are you doing about lunch today?”
    â€œHi Abby. Well, I brought in some smoked emu salad sandwiches, two dozen deviled quail eggs, and a rhubarb tort.” He was serious.
    â€œSounds yummy.” I was not serious. “How about I treat you to lunch at Slightly North of Broad?”
    I must have been speaking louder than usual, or Rob has exceptional hearing. There was a brief scuffle while he managed to get the phone away from Bob.
    â€œDoes that invitation include me?”
    â€œDefinitely.”
    â€œThen we’re on.”
    â€œBut what about the lunch I made?” I heard Bob whine in the background.
    â€œWe can give it to C.J., can’t we, Abby?”
    â€œWell, she does eat everything,” I whispered, so Bob wouldn’t hear. The man considers himself a gourmet, and I suppose he is, but neither Rob nor I can stomach some of his concoctions.
    â€œAbby says that’s a great idea,” Rob said, with more emphasis on my name than was needed.
    There was a good deal of conversation that I couldn’t decipher, and then Bob got on the phone again. “It’s not that I’m unappreciative, Abby, but I wish you’d give me more warning. Do you know how hard it was to peel those quail eggs?”
    â€œI’m sure it was a pain. So, are we on?”
    He sighed. “All right. What time?”
    â€œNoon. But there is a condition I haven’t yet explained.”
    â€œWhich is?”
    â€œYou two are not going to sit with me.”
    â€œI don’t understand.”
    â€œIt’s a long story, dear, which I’ll tell you some other time. But basically I want you two to just keep an eye on me.”
    â€œAnd who else?”
    â€œAlways the perceptive one, aren’t you? It’s this couple from New York.”
    â€œAbby, I smell a rat.”
    The phone on the other end of the line changedhands again. “I smell Bob’s lunch. Abby, out with it. Are you working on another case?”
    â€œWhat makes you say that?”
    â€œWe heard about the murder. Wynnell’s lawyer called us. He wanted to know if we were willing to be character witnesses. I said of course, but that I thought the whole thing silly, because she isn’t capable of killing anyone.”
    â€œYou said it.”
    â€œAbby, I thought you promised Greg you weren’t going to do any more sleuthing. The last time, you almost got yourself killed.”
    â€œWynnell’s my best friend, Rob—well, except for you two. Besides, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
    â€œYeah, right.” If Rob wasn’t careful, his sarcasm was going to drip all over his Ferragamo shoes
    â€œI wouldn’t be calling the kettle black, dear. How many times have you pretended to eat Bob’s cooking, but somehow managed to dispose of the food by other means?”
    â€œTouché. But promise me you aren’t going to take any unnecessary risks—oh what the heck, there’s no