4 Malice in Christmas River Read Online Free

between a rich rancher’s wife and a distinguished city councilor.”
    I smirked.
    “Sounds like you’ve got yourself a plot worthy of Nora Roberts,” I said. “You should write it.”
    She laughed.
    “Maybe I will,” she said, tossing the empty cup in the trash. “But my taste runs a little, well, a little racier than old Nora’s books, I’m afraid.”
    She grinned devilishly.
    “Jesus, Kara,” I said, shaking my head.
    She cackled. I think she got a kick out of my disapproval of her romantic studies.
    “Now, enough about those two old broads and my romance books. Let’s hear about the rest of the class and the interview.”
    I told her about the reporter’s questions, and about when the article was scheduled to run. It’d come out just in time for the Christmas River Rodeo, where, for the first time ever, I was going to have a pie booth to sell my pies to the hordes of tourists who came to see our nearly 100-year old annual roundup.
    “I gotta admit, though, I’m a little nervous about the article,” I said. “I hope I sounded as good as I thought I did.”
    Kara waved her arms.
    “I’m sure it’s going to be great,” she said. “And if nothing else, the photos will turn out nice. You were looking gorgeous before you scrubbed away my work of art.”
    I finished the last of my milkshake, feeling sad that it was over. I tossed the cup in the garbage can.
    “So what have you been up to tonight?” I asked.  
    She shrugged.
    “Same ol’ same ol’,” she said. “John’s still at the office. So I’ve just been crafting at the shop most of the evening. Then I went out to Redmond for the shakes.”
    She sighed loudly.
    “So nothing too exciting, I’m afraid.”
    I raised my eyebrows.
    “Anything the matter?” I asked.
    She shrugged.
    “No, not really,” she said. “I’m just… well, I guess you could say I’m kind of in the September doldrums.”
    “Did something happen?” I said.
    “No,” she said. “And that’s just it. Nothing’s been happening. John works at his practice all the time. I work at the shop all the time. Nothing changes. The brightest part of my day, I mean, aside from doing your makeup, was gossiping just now about Laurel and Jo. It’s just so…”
    She sighed.
    “ Mundane .”
    She rubbed her face.
    “I don’t know. Maybe I just need a vacation.”
    I patted her shoulder.
    I knew how she felt. I was there too, in a way. Owning your own business could sometimes suck the life out of you. It was easy to get caught up in working long hours. It felt like I’d missed the entire summer slaving away in my pie shop.
    Hell, I’d even stopped volunteering at the Humane Society, something that I loved doing, but just didn’t have the time for now.  
    “Have you talked to John at all about how you feel?”
    She shook her head.
    “I just… I’m not sure he’d understand.”
    She looked at me for a moment, and then her fallen expression changed into a phony smile.
    “I shouldn’t whine so much,” she said. “I’ve got nothing to complain about. Let’s talk about something else.”
    I scanned her face, suddenly realizing that things were worse than I had thought.
    “Is there anything I can do?” I asked.
    She waved a hand at me.
    “No, no,” she said. “I’m fine. Now, c’mon. Tell me what that reporter was like. Was he cute?”
    I played along and went into a long description of Erik Andersen, not pressing the issue.
    I told her about Erik’s sandy blond hair and hazelnut brown eyes. About the way his silver-framed glasses rested on his high cheekbones oh-so-properly. About his tall and lean frame. Her eyes grew big, and she said that maybe her romance novel instead should feature a love triangle between the distinguished city councilor, the rich rancher’s wife, and the hunky, brooding reporter.
    But despite Kara’s joke, I could tell something was amiss.
    Half an hour later, she left, saying she needed to go to the store to pick up some groceries