Worked to Death (Working Stiff Mysteries Book 2) Read Online Free Page A

often lead to withdrawal, moodiness, and sometimes she'd simply revert back to childhood.
    When I'd first moved back home, she'd gone through several scary disappearing acts, which aged me considerably. We'd finally worked out a system of care for her that consisted of a combination of myself, our neighbor, and a nurse, and we rotated our schedules to be certain that she was supervised at all times.
    Paget was the reason I'd moved home to Millbrook, and she was the single most important thing in my life.
    But the second most important thing in my life, at least for the next few minutes, was food.
    We quietly made our way out of Stella and into the Back Porch Café. We were running a little late for lunch, but the place was still humming with diners. Noting that our fave booth was available, we headed that way.
    "Yoo-hoo, I'll be right with you gals!" Ms. Maimie hollered from behind the bar.
    We scooched into the vinyl seats of the booth, and Paget set about removing the packs of sugar, Splenda, and Sweet'N Low from the little metal rack and lining them up on the table.
    This was something she did quite often. It was all about putting things in order and counting them over and over again. I didn't understand it, but it seemed to calm her when something was bothering her. And now I knew for sure that there was something bothering her. But as I heard Ms. Maimie clicking her way toward our table in her standard four-inch heels, as any retired Vegas showgirl old enough to qualify for a senior citizen discount would wear, I decided to broach the subject with Paget later.
    "How are my two favorite girls today?" Ms. Maimie placed two Cokes down on the table along with napkins, straws, and silverware.
    Paget didn't answer but did pause in her packet counting to open her straw.
    "Well, my morning has been a bit of a challenge," I offered. Hesitant to share too many details with my old friend. She and my elderly neighbor had a habit of getting involved in police matters, and I wanted to delay that as long as possible. Mostly because I wanted to get clear of this matter as soon as feasible myself.
    "Yep. I heard. I didn't know it was you for sure. But when Cletus came in, complaining about how chicks should never drive tow trucks—I knew it was you who'd found the body."
    I blinked up at Ms. Maimie. "How do you already know all that? It just happened an hour ago."
    I really shouldn't be surprised. Information flowed through this town faster than grass through a goose. Even as the thought crossed my mind, I realized that I'd slipped back into full country mode despite my decade-long absence from Elmore County.
    "I don't know who the dead guy is though. Do you know?" Her eyes were open big as she feigned innocence in her not-so-subtle question.
    "No. I don't know. I don't really want to know. I'm afraid to find out. 'Cause that body was found in Matty Thibault's trunk."
    She nodded. We all knew Matty and Mick and not just from their annoying morning radio show. They were locals and popular locals at that. I'd grown up with them and graduated with them along with Penny and Ty and even nude-photo-sending Allyson. We'd all been classmates those many years ago. And while I'd left at the earliest opportunity, they'd all stayed here and made lives for themselves.
    No matter whose body was in that trunk, it would be another major town scandal, and my friends were somehow involved.
    "Don't worry about it too much." She leaned in and lowered her voice to a whisper. "We have a Hoots meeting set up for tonight after the ten o'clock news. We're gonna try one of those webcam meeting thingies. We'll figure it all out then. We have to help poor Matty."
    "A webcam meeting? How do you even know about those?" As if this was the most important part of what she'd said, I couldn't get my mind around Ms. Lanier and Ms. Maimie having a video conference when they lived not two miles apart. Not to mention the fact that they were both in their seventies.
    "Oh yeah,