Death Loves a Messy Desk Read Free Page A

added, “Reg Van Zandt.”
    “Van Zandt. Isn’t there a Van Zandt Avenue?”
    “Yes, and a Van Zandt Crescent and a Van Zandt Circle.”
    “Really?”
    “Yes, and they’re all named after him!” A slight red flush bloomed just above the Peter Pan collar. “Reg Van Zandt? War hero? Entrepreneur?” The flush headed rapidly toward her ears.
    “Oh, right. So he’s the owner?” Sometimes you just have to fake it.
    “You haven’t met?”
    I shook my head.
    “I wondered because you’re both heroes in a way. But if you do meet him when you’re there . . .” She hesitated. “Please don’t mention it’s because of Barb’s desk. I wouldn’t want him to think ill of her. She’s new so it would be a shame if he got the wrong impression.”
    Ah, office politics. Something I didn’t miss.
    Out of nowhere Fredelle said, “I suspect Barb is getting over a bad relationship and that’s why she’s starting over in a new town at her age. She needs kindness and support, not—”
    “Bitchy carping complainers?” I suggested.
    Fredelle clasped her small white hands together prayer-fully. “Oh Charlotte, you’ll be perfect for this job. You’ll fix everything in no time. It will be a piece of cake for you.”
    I smiled. “Hope so.”
    It did sound like a piece of cake. Much as I love making over a disastrous closet, you can have too much of a good thing. An office situation would make a nice change. And if we could avoid the office politics, harmless, too.

2

    Label a fresh file folder every time
you start a project at home or work.
Attach clear pockets for related business cards
and miscellaneous small pieces of paper and receipts.
Note key contacts and numbers inside the front of the folder.

    Todd Tyrell’s gelled hair and supersize ultrawhite chompers filled the television screen. He babbled on about a threat to our community and the public’s need to know. I’ve learned from personal experience how easily WINY can get things wrong. I thought the public had a right to peace and quiet.
    The camera caught the fluttering yellow crime scene tape that marked off the spot. A close shot of a blue car filled the screen. A slender man with red hair and pale skin juggled his keys as he surveyed the scene and narrowed his eyes at Todd. Even though he wore that suit well, I decided he had to be a detective. Maybe it was his air of natural authority. He turned icy blue eyes toward the camera and gestured to the operator to move away. The scene switched back to Todd’s teeth where it belonged.
    And in other news, Woodbridge police continue to be tight-lipped about the body of a man found in the trunk of a car. The body was found by hikers in a secluded area on the outskirts of Woodbridge this morning. WINY news has received unconfirmed reports that the victim had been shot. Continue to watch WINY for updates on this breaking news.
    My slice of double-cheese and anchovy pizza paused halfway to my mouth. “Do we absolutely have to watch this, Sally? It’s horrible. Aren’t we just trying to relax and have a bit of fun? And why is Todd the Tooth on during the weekend anyway? Is he their twenty-four-seven guy or something? Now that’s scary. I definitely think the viewers could use a break.”
    Sally didn’t take her eyes off the screen. “He’s covering this because it’s big news. Come on. I find Todd’s program relaxing. Remember, I’m stuck here in the house with this adorable pack of rugrats. It’s like being marooned on a wonderful desert island where you go slightly crazy. I have to stay in touch with what’s going on in the world. Do you want my brain to shrivel?”
    I glanced around at Sally’s three curly-haired toddlers. After bath, jammies, and story, they wanted to join the party. Sally and I had made them a tent from a blanket spread over the dining room table. Now they were sleeping soundly, smelling of apple juice and baby shampoo. Sally had the baby, Shenandoah, snoozing on her lap. Until