Murder Alfresco #3 Read Online Free Page B

watched it embrace each flower with its long, hairy legs, then move to the next.
    “Also, the fan over the grill is making that sound again, there is some kind of milky pink funk in the water out at Pt. Reyes so there are no local oysters until they figure out what it is, and we really have to do something about the Speedy Gonzalez factor.” This last sentence was said close up. Sunny turned to see Rivka standing in the doorway, watching her.
    “Did you see one?”
    “I saw his calling cards.”
    “Shit.”
    “Exactly.”
    “Where?”
    “On the zinc.”
    Sunny frowned. “That’s bad. That’s very bad. We’re going to have to get more aggressive, I guess. Anything in the traps?”
    “Nothing.”
    Sun exhaled loudly. “I can’t figure out what they’re eating. They can’t get in the walk-in, and everything else is sealed up tight.”
    Rivka nodded. She had her black hair braided and twisted up in two tight buns. She was turning the silver post in her ear,the way she did when she was considering something, and staring at Sunny with dark eyes heavily lined with dark lashes. She’d recently started wearing a thick silver cross that dangled between her breasts, just above the double layer of black bra and white tank top. “Maybe they’re just doing recon.”
    “Recon implies an invasion. I’d better call the pest guy today and find out what the options are.” Sunny turned back to the bumblebee, who was still ravishing the lavender blossoms outside the window. Mice. That was all she needed.
    Rivka lingered in the doorway. “You okay?”
    “I’m fine.”
    “You don’t look fine.”
    “I guess it shows.” Sunny rubbed her eyes, fighting the seduction of sleep. “I had a very strange night.”
    “Do tell.”
    “I’ll tell you all about it later. If I go into it now, we’ll never be ready for lunch.”
    “Intriguing,” said Rivka. “Now I’m really curious. Let me make you one of my famous healing lattes. Maybe then you’ll be ready to talk.”
    They went out to the front counter and Rivka fired a shot while Sunny rummaged under the bar.
    “Could you make it a famous healing Americano instead?”
    Rivka scowled. “There is nothing healing about watered-down espresso.”
    “There is when you put a splash of this in it,” said Sunny, holding up a bottle of house red.
    Rivka shook her head. “I don’t know how you can drink coffee like that.”
    “Hair of the dog.”
    “Dog hair would be preferable.”
    “You mock my traditions, but someday you will know the truth and be forced to admit the wisdom of my ways. This recipe is an ancient Portuguese panacea straight from Catelina Alvarez’s kitchen. One shot of good, strong espresso, one spoonful of honey, one splash of red wine, a little hot water to thin things out, and suddenly the world is a beautiful place. It’s better than Prozac.”
    “Why not crumble some Prozac on top? You’ve got the caffeine, sugar, and alcohol covered. All that’s missing is the hard stuff!’
    “Don’t tempt me.” Sunny finished stirring the concoction and swallowed it, then went over to the oven and let the hot air warm her arms and face. It was good to be in her kitchen, in her restaurant. The world may not be an entirely beautiful place, she thought, but at least Wildside was still here with its warmth and good smells and friendly noises to fill up the day. After a night like last night, the heat of the kitchen was the best medicine she could imagine. What would be ideal now would be to bake. She wanted to put her hands into a bowl of dough and knead it, feel the soft, floury mixture crumble under her fingertips and gradually coalesce into a smooth, compact ball. The smell of baking bread would fill the kitchen and banish any bad juju from the night before. With a pang, Sunny remembered the girl’s face. She had seen those eyes and would never forget them. The image flashed in her mind against her will.
    “You really do look beat,” said Rivka. “Did