Sally Berneathy - Death by Chocolate 04 - Chocolate Mousse Attack Read Online Free Page B

than to my need to get through that intersection before I was eligible to collect Social Security. I tapped my horn. Okay, I leaned on it.
    Trent sighed. “I don’t even want to know who you’re honking at or why.”
    The girl finally noticed the green light and moved on. I made it through on yellow. “Good,” I said, “because I don’t want to tell you. Okay, moving on. First, I met the new owner of the house across the street and Fred called at two this morning to ask me to come over and coax her out of his closet.” That diverted his attention from the subject of my driving.
    I was on the highway, almost finished with Sophie’s story, when I crested a hill, saw a motorcycle cop with a radar gun and slammed on my brakes. The officer immediately stuck his radar gun in his belt and climbed on his bike.
    “Damn! Damn, damn, damn!”
    “Please tell me you’re not getting another speeding ticket.”
    I drove past the cop, pulled docilely over to the shoulder and fumbled in my purse for my license. I knew the routine.
    “Lindsay? You still there?”
    The motorcycle cop, lights flashing, sped right past me, chasing another car.
    I laughed. “It wasn’t me! He didn’t give me a ticket! He’s after somebody else!”
    “That’s good.”
    “Yeah, but that means somebody was going faster than I was. That’s kind of humiliating.” I merged back onto the highway, relieved but a little sad.
    By the time I pulled into my driveway at home, I had finished Sophie’s tale and the story of Rick’s babysitting needs.
    “Call me if you need help,” Trent said. “You probably haven’t heard the last of Rick and little Rickie.”
    “I know.” I got out of the car and lifted my garage door then checked up and down the street. It wouldn’t have surprised me to see Rick’s car parked there or even the man himself sitting in my front porch swing. He’s the top salesman at Rheims Commercial Real Estate for a reason. He is relentless and doesn’t understand the word no .
    “Cookout at my house on Saturday night,” I said. “You get to meet the new neighbor who has a fondness for Fred’s closet.”
    “Cookout? In this heat? How about I bring pizzas?”
    I was tempted. I do love pizza but I also love sitting outside on summer nights. “We’ll see. It’s only Wednesday. We’ve got plenty of time to figure out the details.”
    We hung up and I walked across the yard to my house, enjoying the faint scent of clover and the buzz of bees as they darted among clover and various other blooms. Grass is a lot of trouble not to mention that it’s boring. I prefer to let the natural process of evolution prevail in my yard. Only the strong survive .
    Needless to say, Fred doesn’t share my dedication to nature. I’ve caught him tossing weed killer granules onto my lawn in the middle of the night. That certainly messes with the process of evolution and gives the grass an unfair advantage. But clover and dandelions are strong. So far the grass is losing the battle in spite of Fred’s foreign aid.
    I opened my front door and Henry met me, launching into his usual I love you so much, Mom, and I don’t need anything from you in return but if you want to give me some food, it will show how much you love me routine.
    I poured nuggets into his German shepherd size bowl then added half a can of something disgusting and smelly.
    He dug in immediately, properly appreciative of the food I’d slaved over a hot can opener to produce.
    Henry appeared out of nowhere a couple of months after Rick and I separated and I moved into this place. I’d made the mistake of letting Rick spend the night and was feeling guilty, sad and desperate to get rid of him when King Henry strolled into my house and my life, announced he was staying and Rick was going. I’d never been able to find his previous owners and had no idea of his lifestyle before he claimed me. Perhaps he had offspring I knew nothing about. Perhaps one or more of them would show up