Mug Shot Read Online Free Page A

warned me about Stan. I didn’t want to think badly of him, but frankly I was starting to worry a bit.
    “Yeah, I
do
know Stan, and that’s why I’m asking you to stay away from him. Detective Likeapony told me that Abigail said she tripped and fell, but why would Stan run away if he was there when his sister started falling?”
    “I really can’t believe Stan would have pushed her on purpose,” I said. At least I didn’t think he would have. I hadn’t known him that long, but he didn’t seem like the violent type. Pete was being pretty adamant about the issue, though, and I trusted his judgment.
    “This whole family is freaking bonkers, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
    I shook my head. “That’s not a nice thing to say about your girlfriend’s family, although it’s totally true.”
    “The thing is, I wouldn’t put it past Abigail to cover for Stan, even if he did push her. The Hollingsworths may fight amongst themselves, but they protect the family name at all costs.”
    “So you think they’d circle the wagons to protect Stan? He seems to be the odd man out.”
    Pete shrugged. “Who knows what goes on behind closed doors here? It’s bad enough what happens when there are people around.” He looked down at my dress. “I saw your little scuffle with Delta. I think it’s safe to say that you’re off her Christmas card list.”
    “That old bag ruined my dress.”
    He hadn’t taken his eyes off my dress, which was still damp and clinging inappropriately to me. “It doesn’t look ruined to me.”
    “Pete, quit staring at my boobs.”
    “What? They were looking at me!”
    —
    After one of the uniformed officers had cleared the three of us to go, I said a quick goodbye to Stan and left with Savannah and Carl. It was his turn to be questioned by Ryder. I was relieved Stan wasn’t able to take me home, because I didn’t know what to say to him. He was smart enough to put two and two together and realize it was either Pete or me who had narced on him, so any conversation would be awkward, to say the least. He seemed a little angry when we said our goodbyes and didn’t make a move to kiss me. Our brief relationship may have ended before it even started, not that it would be a big loss in my dating life. I worked at Java Jive sixteen hours a day, six days a week, so it’s not like I had time for dating in the first place.
    I asked Savannah and Carl to drop me at Java Jive. I had to admit that simply walking through the door to the place at Christmastime immediately melted all my stress away. The coffeehouse always felt cozy, with its dark wood floors and exposed brick walls, but in December, when we covered the place in twinkle lights and garlands, it absolutely glowed with warmth. Being here was exactly what I needed to get my mind off the craziness I’d just had to endure.
    I changed out of my damp dress and got to work with my mostly new team of baristas. After the dust settled from the murder that occurred here a couple months back, I’d had two baristas and a kitchen worker to replace. Good help was difficult to find, and training took time. Needless to say, we were still working with a learning curve here.
    I heard a sputtering noise, and then one of my newbie baristas, Tiffany, screamed at the top of her lungs. It got eerily quiet in the coffeehouse, and everyone looked toward the counter. Already knowing what had happened, I reluctantly headed her way.
    Tiffany was wiping off her arms, whining, “Why does this always happen to me?”
    “Did the steamer try to kill you again, Tiffany?” I asked sympathetically.
    “Yes,” she replied glumly. She had been splattered (for the third time this week) with hot milk. She had a bad habit of yanking the milk pitcher away from the steam nozzle too quickly.
    I very patiently explained (for the third time this week), “You need to turn the steam off
before
you lift the nozzle out of the milk. Otherwise, when the burst of steam hits the surface of