Death Threads Read Free Page A

Wentworth’s name made her smile—a genuine happy smile that started deep inside her soul and had a way of carrying her through an entire day no matter how crazy or mundane it may be. Officially dating for three months now, she found herself eagerly looking forward to each new day just to see what sweet surprise the local elementary school teacher had up his sleeve.
    There’d been flowers on her front porch, surprise picnics in the town square, countless nights spent discussing books, candlelit dinners on her patio, and bakery treats at the end of a long day at work.
    In short, Milo Wentworth was like opening a great big present with multiple compartments and memorable surprises every step of the way.
    “The difference, dear, is that Milo is real.” Leona tsked.
    “And this man isn’t?”
    “Darned if we know. And it’s been ten years. Ten years , Victoria.” Rose pushed a trembling hand through her wiry crop of white hair and shrugged. “But whatever gets you through the day, I s’pose.”
    “If he’s famous as you say—”
    “I don’t say . . . she says,” Rose corrected.
    “If he’s famous as she says,” Tori amended, “maybe she’s simply respecting his privacy.”
    Rose shook her head, a motion copied by both Leona and Margaret Louise. “No, she’s just cuckoo.”
    “Maybe she’s just a private person.” Tori had known several of those in her life. And they certainly weren’t lunatics. “Sometimes people are just different. They act differently, think differently, and behave differently. But it doesn’t mean they’re crazy. Or ‘cuckoo’ as you just said.”
    Four sets of eyes cast downward like disobedient puppies who’d met the end of a rolled-up newspaper. Rolling her own eyes upward she stifled a laugh. “Look, I’m not getting on you guys. I’m just saying maybe there’s another explanation.”
    “Excuse me, ladies. Victoria, may I have a moment of your time?”
    Five sets of eyes flew upward as five throats swallowed simultaneously.
    “Uh, hi, Colby. How are you?” She flashed a welcoming smile at the man standing less than two feet away, prayed he didn’t notice the way she wiped her hands on her charcoal gray skirt. It wasn’t that she was interested in the object of the group’s collective fantasizing—she wasn’t. She had Milo. And Colby had Debbie—a circle member closer to her own age whom she both admired and respected. But seeing him up-close was like having a plate of chocolate candies thrust in front of your face with iron-clad instructions not to touch.
    Hence the sweaty palms.
    “That barbecue you and Debbie threw last weekend was terrific. The chicken was absolutely mouthwatering and the . . . well, you’re quite a cook.”
    “Grill master, maybe. Cook, no. But I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” Sliding a strong hand through his wavy dark hair, Colby drummed his fingers nervously on the counter. “Do you have anything on moonshine? Specifically its flammability?”
    “I imagine we would. Let me check.” Pulling the stool closer to the computer, Tori tapped in a few words and waited as the sound of heavy breathing filled the air behind her. “Yes, here we go. There’s a book written by a Jake Bavaria in the Cooking section that will give you more information. But, based on the title, I’d say it’s quite flammable.”
    “You should check with Gabe Jameson, Colby. He’s the resident moonshine expert,” Margaret Louise chimed in while Tori jotted the author and title on a slip of paper. “And he gives samples, too.”
    “Margaret Louise!” Leona hissed in embarrassment.
    “Oh please. Like you didn’t know that, Twin.”
    Colby held up his hand as his frown deepened. “I just came from Gabe’s. It’s why I’ve been poring over those.” He gestured toward the books scattered across the table he’d just vacated, the corners of his mouth dipping even lower as he surveyed the aftermath of his research. “Look, I’m sorry I left things