A Cook in Time Read Online Free

window.”
    â€œReally?” Connie got up and walked to the office door to get a better view of her shop and the window. “I don’t see anyone.”
    â€œIt was probably nothing.”
    â€œProbably,” Connie said dejectedly. “That’s the story of my life with men these days.”
    Angie knew Connie was feeling lonely. Since her divorce she hadn’t found a man she hit it off with. Angie imagined it was especially hard on her during this time of year, with the holidays fast approaching. All the more reason to involve Connie in something fun and exciting—like a fantasy dinner.
    â€œI was probably just imagining someone was there.” Angie cast a woeful look in Connie’s direction. “I guess I’m so worried about my new business that I’m seeing things. Don’t feel guilty, though, it’s not your problem. I understand. I’ll figure something out. Alone.” She gave a long, loud sigh.
    â€œHere’s to your business success.” Connie cheerfully ignored her and held up her paper lattè cup in a salute. “You’ll be able to handle it on your own just fine.”
    â€œThanks,” Angie murmured. She slid a dish of tiramisu in front of her and picked up her spoon. Her plan to involve Connie had failed miserably. Time to eat. It tasted like crow.
    Â 
    Paavo Smith wearily dragged himself up the front steps of his small house in San Francisco’s Richmond district, unlocked the door, and stepped inside.
    Two days’ worth of mail lay piled on the floor. As he scooped it up, Hercules came over to greet him. “Hey, boy, good to see you.” The big yellow tabby rubbed against his legs, demanding to be petted. Paavo ran his hand a few times over the cat’s thick coat, relieved to be home at last.
    Stiffly he straightened up and flipped through the bills and advertisements that made up his mail. Tossing it all onto a lamp table near the door, he walked over to the sofa that sat in the center of the room facing the stone fireplace, took off his sports jacket, and laid it over the back. Without missing a beat, he continued toward the small central hallway. There he unbuckled his nylon shoulder holster and put it and his 9 mm Smith & Wesson on the top shelf of the linen closet.
    The light on the answering machine was blinking. He hit the play button and increased the volume. From the hall he turned into the kitchen, Hercules running between his feet as he went. The whole process was a ritual. Paavo would be forgiven for his long absences if Herc got a can of 9-Lives to make up for the dry Meow Mix he’d put up with in the interim.
    Paavo took the cat food from the cupboard and a can opener from the drawer.
    The first call had been recorded about one that afternoon and was from Angie, wondering where he was. He half listened as she prattled on about wanting him to try to find time to go with her and a couple of her nieces and a nephew to the Nutcracker on Sunday. He had scarcely remembered that Christmas was fast approaching. What in the world could he give Angie? The woman who had everything.
    He needed to call her. He hadn’t expected to be on duty nearly thirty-six hours without a decent break.
    This latest round of investigations had begun the previous morning, when Homicide received a call. A cab driver had been killed the night before, the body dumped in a back alley. The break in the case came because the killer stupidly decided to use the taxi as his getaway car. That night an outraged citizen called the Yellow Cab company to complain about a taxi sitting in front of a house and not taking any fares. In a matter of hours, Paavo and Yosh made an arrest. The idiot perp had even been surprised. Go figure.
    Paavo had been finishing up his report on that murder, thinking about going home and getting some sleep, when the call came in that sent him out to Stern Grove.
    He still had no identity on the victim. No