Two Cooks A-Killing Read Online Free Page A

in a light gray Armani suit, white shirt, and striped gray silk tie. He once said he was sorry the term African-American had come into popularity because he much preferred the alliteration of being Bo Benson, black and beautiful.
    Women flocked to be near him, no matter how he said it.
    â€œI’m looking for Paavo Smith,” came the curt reply.
    The woman’s sharp voice cut through Paavo’s elation at watching his twelve-page report spit out of the printer. He glanced up, but couldn’t see who Bo was talking to.
    A moment later, the mystery was solved.
    Stepping around the file cabinet that had hidden her, head held high—or as high as it could be held—and marching steadfastly down an aisle crowded with desks, law books, case histories, and folders, came one of the tiniest women Paavo had ever seen.
    She was at most four feet tall. She wore a full-length dress of pink satin with ruffles on the bodice, and a wide-brimmed straw hat with a row of white daisies circling the crown. Paavo almostrubbed his eyes to make sure he hadn’t fallen asleep. One look at the faces of the other inspectors, and he knew they were seeing the same thing.
    In the past, Angie had whimsically sent a leprechaun and even an Italian tenor bellowing “O Sole Mio” his way. He stood, a smile on his face. He knew Angie was busy, yet she’d taken the time—
    â€œPaavo Smith?” the woman demanded. She stared up at him, tilting her head nearly all the way back to take in his full six-foot, two-inch height, clasping her hat to her dyed blond hair as she did so. Her face was round as a pancake with large, watery blue eyes, an upturned nose, and lips smeared with ruby red lipstick. She reminded him of Miss Piggy. Her frowning face did not give the impression that she was about to burst into song.
    The sinking feeling that this visit had nothing to do with Angie struck. He tried to ignore his disappointment.
    On the other hand…
    He glanced at his colleagues. Ever since his engagement he’d been the brunt of so many gags he felt he was living a skit out of Saturday Night Live . The others weren’t smiling, either.
    â€œWon’t you have a seat?” He pointed to the guest chair by his desk. She hoisted herself onto it. “What can I do for you?” he asked, also sitting.
    â€œI heard that you’re a damn good cop. I don’t want the butterbrains they’ve been sending me to mess up this case any more than they already have.” Her strident voice was ear-splitting. “Wehave an acquaintance in common, Connie Rogers. I live nearby and shop in her store, or go inside to say hello when it’s empty, which is most of the time. Anyway, I told her I needed a cop with brains. She said you’re engaged to her best friend. That I should talk to you. She also said if you didn’t do right by me, she’d tell your fiancée, and that one would set you straight.”
    Paavo’s eyebrows rose. He could feel the amusement of the other inspectors.
    â€œYou’re involved in a homicide?” he asked.
    Her big eyes blinked rapidly and she lifted her shoulders in a woeful shrug. “I hope that pissant fool hasn’t gone and gotten his effing brains blown out, but he might have.” She appeared on the verge of tears. “I’m worried about him.”
    â€œAre you saying someone has disappeared? Have you checked with Missing Persons?” Paavo asked, his voice calm and soothing.
    â€œOf course I did! What kind of birdbrain do you take me for?” She folded her little arms. She was round and well padded, without a discernible shape under all her skirts and ruffles. “They haven’t done anything. I’m sure Fred’s out there, lying in some ditch, hopefully still alive. Who knows, with all the time they’ve wasted? What the hell’s wrong with that department?”
    â€œLet’s start at the beginning,” Paavo said,