The Mezzo Wore Mink Read Online Free Page A

party. Or you can have one of Archimedes’ baby squirrels.”
    “ I refuse to eat owl food, no matter how tempting.” She looked thoughtful for a moment, then added, “How would you cook it?”
    “ Baby squirrel is best served tartare ,” I said. “But wait. Here’s something.” I pulled out a pot of soup and set it on the stove. “I forgot that I stopped by the Ginger Cat this afternoon and picked up a pot of shrimp bisque.”
    “ Excellent,” said Meg. “And?”
    “ Garlic bread, and a bottle of Shiraz.”
    “ Then I’ve decided. After supper you may see my tan lines.”

Chapter 4

    September turned to October, and with the changing leaves came the tourists. Peak foliage season wouldn’t hit St. Germaine for a couple of weeks yet, depending on conditions, but folks were already making their way up into the Appalachians to enjoy the fall weather, the local festivals, art shows and fairs found in almost every small town, and leaf peeping in general. October and early November were the two months that made St. Germaine’s economy work. Nancy had to hand out more parking tickets during these two months, as space was at a premium, and out-of-towners insisted that it was their God-given right under the Constitution to leave their cars and SUVs wherever they could find space. This included driving up onto the grass of Sterling Park—our small acre of village green—parking in front of fire hydrants, and even, on occasion, in the spot in front of the police station marked “Reserved for the Chief of Police.”
    I was drinking a steaming cup of coffee and marveling at my fortuity to be sitting on a bench in Sterling Park on this beautiful October morning. I believe in fate, in chance meetings, and in good fortune. I also believe in the Trinity, salvation by grace, infralapsarianism, non-Darwinian evolution, and possibly unicorns, as they’re mentioned nine times in the Old Testament. I wasn’t too sure about the unicorns yet. I don’t dwell on either fate or theology for too long because it gives me a headache, but on a morning like this, when the crispness in the air snaps you awake and you can almost feel creation in full bloom, I found it impossible not to smile at the wonder of it all. Hayden Konig—Chief of Police of St. Germaine, North Carolina. Hayden Konig—organist and choirmaster of St. Barnabas Episcopal Church. Hayden Konig—wealthy inventor and investor. Fate? Luck? Predestination? Whatever the cosmic answer, I was as happy as the tenth pick on a nine-man jury.
    I saw Meg making her way across the park with a coffee cup of her own, attired in a coat and scarf even though the temperature was still in the low fifties and my outerwear consisted of an old cotton sweater.
    “ Good morning, Miss Farthing,” I said with a smile. “Coffee from the new place?” In all, four concerns that Pete had courted had moved in. I suspected that most of them would vanish in January as soon as tourist season waned, but for now, there was a flurry of activity around town and everyone was happy. I looked at Meg’s paper cup and knew the answer even as my mouth formed the question, seeing as the logo was emblazoned across both the cup and the protective sleeve. The logo was an ichthys—the Jesus fish—swimming like a shark inside a coffee cup and in bright red letters was the name of the shop, “Holy Grounds.”
    “ Yep. The Ginger Cat doesn’t open soon enough to get the early morning coffee drinkers. I’m quite finished drinking coffee by 9:30, thank you.”
    “ Me, too,” I said. “It’s good coffee. I affirm its Christian goodness.”
    Meg rolled her eyes. “They can certainly open a Christian coffee shop if they want. You don’t have to be so snide about everything.”
    “ I just wonder how drinking this Christian cup of coffee will serve me better in the eternal order of things than drinking a cup of coffee from, let’s say, Buddha’s Coffee Barn. Hey! Maybe they give part of their profits