Teased to Death (Misty Newman 1) by Gina LaManna Read Free Book Online Page B

Alfred," I said. "I'd like to report some vandalism."
    Amid hhhmmms and sympathetic awwwws , Alfred listened until I was finished speaking.
    "I'll be right over to check it out." Alfred paused. "Do you have any guesses who did it?"
    I paused. "Mrs. Jenkins was around the studio when I found it. Other than that…"
    Alfred cleared his throat. "I'm coming. Be over in a jiffy."
    I hung up and handed the phone back to Donna, who was watching with large eyes. "Alfie still has that crush on you?"
    "Watch it." I gave her squinty eyes. "I don't want to hear about it."
    "Or else?" Donna handed me a Red Vine.
    I took one large bite. "What did you have planned for Nathan tonight?"
    Donna's cheeks turned red as my licorice, and all of a sudden she became very busy reloading the Jolly Ranchers.
    "That's what I thought."

CHAPTER SEVEN
     
    "Do you want the good news or the bad news first?" Alfred looked at me from across the studio.
    I sighed. "Do they always come in pairs?"
    "I'll start with the good." Alfred walked over. "It's not blood. It's a goopy paint."
    "That's good. But I'm scared to hear the bad."
    "You're in trouble." Alfred looked up at me.
    "Funny, I came to that same conclusion yesterday. What else did you find out?"
    He stretched upward and gave a feeble cough. "Well, the words say Watch Your Back ."
    "Yes. I can read."
    "That means someone's out to get you. Any idea why?"
    I shrugged. "I moved back to this godforsaken town to live in my grandmother's house and be closer to my baby sister. What on earth is offensive about that?"
    "What about the whole…Mr. Jenkins thing?"
    "I'm trying to figure that out! I already told you, I know nothing about him except he was my landlord. That's it. He had no reason that I can think of to be near my studio that day. I can't find anyone who has any idea."
    Alfie nodded, scribbled a few notes onto a little pad he pulled from his pocket, and stepped back. "I'll have a few guys take some pictures and see if they can find anything."
    "Thank you. I appreciate that."
    "I doubt they'll find anything," Alfie said. "This looks sprayed on, and I'm nearly positive they wore gloves. I don't think we're dealing with an idiot here. We're talking about murder."
    "Right," I said. "A murderer dislikes me, and I don't even know why."
    "Do you have a safe place to stay?" Alfie asked.
    He seemed genuinely concerned, which is the only reason I responded. "Yeah. I'm in my grandmother's old house."
    "All alone?" Alfie asked. "Won't you be scared? If you need someone to swing by and make sure things are okay…"
    "Alfie…"
    "Too far." Alfie took a step back as I took a step forward, and unfortunately we had a minor collision.
    He'd reached back to put his notebook away, but his hand accidentally brushed my butt en route to his pocket.
    Great , I thought. Now I gotta shower off Alfie germs, on top of evading a killer and proving my innocence . What a great day this was shaping up to be.
     
    *   *   *
     
    "Nothing's going right today," I said to Donna as I leaned on the counter of Sweets.
    "I don't envy you." She gave me another Red Vine. "Here's one for the road. Go for a run or something. Your class isn't until two, so you'll have plenty of time. It'll help you clear your head until your studio's all cleaned out. I called my janitors, and they'll clean it up for you. It'll be ready by your class this afternoon."
    "You're the best." I gave Donna a hug. "You're the one reason I'm not already back in California. Well, that and the fact I might be arrested if I fled the state."
    I chomped down a strand of licorice while heading to my small office at the end of the hallway outside my newly vandalized studio. I pushed open the door hesitantly.
    I'd barely spent any time in the office to date. Most of my time had been spent in the studio, organizing props, polishing, scrubbing and cleaning, testing out the virgin floors still free of chair scratches. The office smelled like Lysol and fake flowers. Someone,