Murder Al Fresco Read Online Free Page B

dark when I pulled up. I left Mustang Sally's headlights on so that I could unlock the front door and flick on some interior lights. That done, I drove around to the carport and parked my ride before making my way back to the house. Why had I never realized how isolated this house was from town?
    Without Jones, the place was almost eerily silent. I checked to make sure all the doors and windows were locked. We should get a security system. Lizzy could afford it, and I'd pay her back as long as Jones and I lived under the roof. It wasn't safe for a woman living alone. I snagged my open laptop and headed into the bedroom, locking that door also for good measure.
    Once comfortably situated on the bed, I pulled up my email and saw a message from Stu. There was an attachment with work history files for all the Flavor-TV-turned -Diced employees. Because Diced was owned by a major network and only aired during the summer months, literally hundreds of people were part of production staff. The Flavor TV people were the best place to start. The file was massive, so I went into the bathroom to shower while it downloaded to my hard drive. I'd just exited in my pajamas when I heard a crash from the living room, followed by a curse.
    Someone was in here with me.
    My heart thrummed like a manic butterfly. Who was it? My gaze slid to the laptop and for one insane second I wondered if I'd made myself a target for a maniac. Swearing under my breath, I scanned the room, looking for a weapon. Nothing. No standing lamps, no baseball bats or hockey sticks to beat back an intruder. There was no phone in the bedroom. I cursed my foolishness at leaving my purse—which contained both pepper spray and my cell—on the front hall table.
    For the second time that night I considered climbing out a window. That thought made me cringe. Without my keys, also located in my bag, I'd be sans vehicle, and fleeing across the darkened landscape barefoot wasn't a stellar option.
    And then my heart stopped as I heard a sound that was distinctive. A sound I hadn't heard in years. A sound that changed everything.
    The unmistakable wail of a small child.
    Stunned, I threw caution to the wind and opened the door to the living room.
    There, looking more disheveled than I'd ever seen him, was Jones. His hair went every which way, and his chin was covered with dark stubble, eyes red-rimmed. His black shirt was wrinkled, his jeans marked with some sort of stain. I had a hard time believing I'd only seen him twelve hours ago. The change in his appearance was so drastic.
    And in his arms was a small boy. He had a shock of red hair, and his face was scrunched up in indignant fury, small arms and legs flailing as Jones held onto him for dear life with a wild look in his eyes. Fear.
    "Malcolm?" I took a hesitant step forward. "What's going on? Why are you back here?"
    "Andrea," he rasped. "I didn't think you'd be here."
    "Well, I am," I muttered rather stupidly. "Whose kid is that?"
    But I knew. The guilt and unhappiness in his face told me all I needed to know even before he uttered the one word destined to change everything.
    "Mine."

 
    Italian Wedding Soup for the Soul
     
    You'll need:
    Meatballs:
    1 small onion, minced
    ⅔ cup chopped fresh parsley
    2 large eggs
    1 teaspoon garlic, minced
    1 teaspoon salt
    1 cup plain bread crumbs
    1 cup grated Parmesan
    1 pound ground pork or turkey
    Freshly ground black pepper to taste
     
    Broth:
    12 cups chicken broth
    ½ a head of cabbage, coarsely chopped
    2 carrots, chopped
    1 large egg
    2 tablespoon freshly grated Parmesan, plus extra for garnish
    Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
     
    Directions:
     
    Stir the first 6 ingredients in a large bowl to blend. Stir in the cheese and meat. Shape the meat mixture into 1-inch diameter meatballs and place on a baking sheet.
     
    Bring the broth to a boil in a large pot over medium-high heat. Add the meatballs and cabbage, and simmer until the meatballs are cooked through and