Plateful of Murder Read Online Free Page A

father had done most of the helping.
    At long last, it was time to close up shop. Aunt Lena took off her apron and asked, “So who’s the big client you couldn’t interrupt to help your aunt?”
    My dad jumped in. “Lena, she got here and worked hard. Leave it alone.”
    I swallowed the last bite of a small éclair that had teased me with its glorious ganache all evening. “The client needed some handholding, that’s all.”
    My aunt squinted at me. “I hope that’s all he held.”
    “Someone murdered his sister.” I regretted the words as soon as they fell from my chocolate-tinged mouth.
    My aunt sucked in a breath and my dad leaned in toward me. “Claire Marie.” The last time he used my middle name was when I ran over a stop sign with his new car. “I never liked that private detective job for you. But this is too much. If someone hurt you, I’d have to kill them myself.”
    My aunt joined in. “Why can’t you work here? There’s plenty to do. You don’t have to run around with some hoodlum.”
    I slumped against the glass case, realizing this battle had just begun. “He’s not a hoodlum.”
    My aunt threw up her hands. “Frank, she’s protecting a hoodlum.”
    I kept my voice steady and spoke slowly, telling myself it was like talking to people who were unfamiliar with the English language. “I’m helping the police here. Nothing more. End of story.”
    Aunt Lena sniffed and began to wipe down the counter. My dad started to clean off the tables. The sound of it all in a silent room was deafening. I laid my hand on top of my aunt’s. “I promise I’m in no danger. I’m not his guard. More like a friend.”
    She looked at me, her eyes moist. “You know I worry. Since your mother died, I feel extra responsible for you.” She placed both of her chunky hands over her heart and looked toward the ceiling. “Promised her I’d look after you.” She wiped a drop of sweat from her upper lip. “How will I face her in heaven knowing, instead of settling down with a nice man, you’re hanging around with no-goods.”
    I put my arms around her soft, ample middle. “I’m sure Mom thinks you’ve done a great job with me. And don’t worry. Everything’s fine.”
    She hugged me back, and then pushed me to arm’s length. “Okay. But now don’t do anything to embarrass the family.”
    I wanted to laugh. My family specialized in doing things to embarrass the rest of us. There was the time my tipsy Aunt Julia whipped off her wig and tossed it at the same time the bride tossed her bouquet; or when my cousin Tomasina tried to climb inside her ex-husband’s coffin. It’d be hard to top times like those. “Aunt Lena, you have my assurance there’s nothing I can do to embarrass this family.”
    Belly overfilled, I shuffled back to my car and chastised myself for gobbling that third éclair and, as with every other time I took a shift at the bakery, was thankful not to be working there full time. It was one of my biggest fears that my body would look like a meatball. Let’s face it. Eating is a huge passion of mine. Combine that with my fat-welcoming genes and I’m almost doomed to someday shop in the plus, plus-size section of Macy’s.
    After a satisfactory grieving time for needless calories, my mind moved on. There was a crime to solve. Tracking down Triton’s security guard, Ed, again was the best way to work the case and burn some calories.
    I yawned and checked the time and was surprised to see it was after 11:00 p.m. The only way to talk to Ed tonight was by waking him up. No, it’d be better to go home and hope to come up with what to do about Michael. Maybe my dreams would accomplish that.
    There was enough time for me to slip into my jammies, but not enough to slip into dreamland, before my phone rang. It was Michael. A spark of dread ran down my spine. Knowing it couldn’t be good, I still picked up the phone. 

 

Chapter Three
     
    H is words rushed together. “Someone broke into my