Cold Hollow (Cold Hollow Mysteries Book 1) Read Free Page B

time, honey.”
    Layla smiled. “How much do I get paid an hour?”
    Sophia’s expression turned serious. “You get minimum wage. You can use the money for whatever you want, but you start at the bottom like all workers do.”
    Liam spoke up. “Why can’t I have a job too?”
    Sophia leaned over the checkout counter and faced Liam. “You are my new cleanup crew. When Layla works, you work. This is only until school begins for the both of you, okay?”
    Liam tugged on his father’s pants and looked up at him. “Did you hear that, Dad? I’m a working man now!”
    Angus ruffled his son’s hair. “Just don’t grow up too fast, either of you! This old man likes you just the way you are.” The children chuckled and watched as Sophia posted the help wanted sign in the window, and they locked up the shop until the following day.
    They returned home to find the landscaper still hard at work, and went inside to unload all of their groceries. They had overspent, but moving into a new home always came with added expenses until things smoothed out.
    Sophia had only begun to prepare supper when her cell phone rang. The connection was weak, but there was a woman responding to the want ad in the bakery window. Her name was Myrna Bradbury. She sounded so pleasant that Sophia could not refuse meeting her at the bakery the following morning for a quick interview. When she hung up the phone, she was positively beaming with excitement. Her new bakery was already under way although she had yet to bake a single thing. It would take a week or two to get organized, but that did not intimidate her in the least. She decided to make a tremendous supper for the entire family in celebration.
     
    ***
     
    Myrna Bradbury lit the candles in the center of the dining room table after hanging up her phone. She had landed her first job—well, almost. She worked as a seamstress for the town, but things had been slow lately and she found she actually looked forward to getting out of the house, even for a short while, each day. She blew out the match and pulled supper out of the oven. She heard Bob’s truck pull into the driveway, so she rushed to place the items on the dining table. He would want to eat the minute his fat ass hit the seat. She had crushed enough tablets of sleeping medicine into the bottle of Jack Daniels to knock out an elephant. She prayed that he took to his usual routine and guzzled at least half of the bottle before he dug into his food.
    Myrna stood in front of the table, waiting for him to enter the dining room; as predicted, he came into the room, stared at the table, and slapped her upside the head. “Good job, bitch.”
    He took his seat and immediately wrapped his chubby hand around the neck of the bottle. He downed half of it and placed the bottle down on the table. Myrna took her seat opposite him and ran her hands over the hair he had mussed up. She placed her napkin on her lap and began dishing out the food. Her husband watched her movements and asked, “What are you up to? You’re pampering me.” He dangled the bottle of Jack in the air before him. “Do you want some of the big stick tonight?” He thrust his pelvis in her direction and grinned maniacally while he ran his tongue over his dirty, jagged teeth.
    Her eyes were downcast as she replied, “Yes, Bob. It’s obviously what I yearn for.” She said this with all of the enthusiasm of someone who had just picked up dog vomit.
    He harrumphed, “Yeah, I remember the days when you had curves and would ride me like a bull at night. Now look at you!”
    Myrna looked down at herself. Yes, she had lost some weight. The doctor said that it was from nerves. Moreover, her once long, vibrant, red hair had gone mousy, but that was because the lout sitting across from her never allowed her to go a decent hairdresser or buy anything adequate. Her clothes were now too big for her, but a dime was never allotted for her needs. Her skin, once smooth and supple, was scarred