Murder Al Dente: A Southern Pasta Shop Mystery (Southern Pasta Shop Mysteries Book 1) Read Free

notch. Arguing with him at this close range was hazardous to my thirty-something hormones.
    To hide my physical response I said, "The tractor is a figment of your imagination."
    He opened his mouth, probably ready to deliver another acerbic retort, but the emergency personnel swarmed over us at that moment like termites on a rotten stump. He shot out a bunch of terse updates to them while one of the paramedics examined him. All of his comments pertai ned to my wellbeing and made me feel like a big old bitch for hounding him about his driving.
    An EMT wrapped one of those horrid collars around my neck. "This really isn't necessary," I told the young woman who attended me. "I feel fine."
    " That's what they all say." She flashed me a quick grin with her even, white teeth. "Sometimes they keel right over dead, and others go on their merry way. Wouldn't you rather be safe than sorry?"
    I bit my lip and thought about showing up in the pasta shop wearing this thing. The town would never let me live it down. "What are my odds?"
    " She's exceedingly stubborn," the SUV driver spoke up. "And a hazard on the roads." Then the bastard winked at me! If he'd ask me to bear his children at that moment I probably would've agreed.
    The paramedics helped me from the car once the dog collar was in place. I groaned when I saw the damage to both vehicles. My insurance would cover the cost, but finding the parts to repair my vintage Mustang was no small feat .
    " No hospital," I insisted. Having just lost my job, I couldn't afford it, and if my girl parts could tingle in reaction to the other driver, obviously all my synapses were firing. Perching on the bumper of the ambulance, I tried to look casual as I offered the EMT a reassuring smile. "I'll just rest here a minute."
    A police cruiser arrived on scene and assessed the damage for insurance purposes. Daniel Tate climbed from the car. I 'd known Danny since high school. His parents had attended church with Nana and Pops, and he had been tight with Kyle, my high school boyfriend. He always wore cologne that smelled like bologna. "Andy," he said as he tipped his hat in my direction. "You all right?"
    I tried to nod , but the brace made it impossible. "Yeah. Though this isn't one of my all-star moments."
    Danny surveyed the automotive carnage. "I saw you on TV. Elsie Giddings DVRed your show, and we watched it at the Spring Fling committee meeting. Never saw so many people vomit at once like that. Did anybody die?"
    Heat scalded my face. "No. Just a mild case of food poisoning," I muttered.
    His focus shifted to the SUV driver. "And who might you be?"
    " Malcolm Jones." He extended his driver's license and insurance card to Danny.
    Danny eyed his license with suspicion. "New York license and registration. You don't sound like any Yankee I've ever heard. Just passing through?"
    Jones stood at parade rest. "No, I'm new to the area."
    " Got any business here?" Bologna Boy was like a dog with bone, working it relentlessly to get to the juicy marrow. Fodder for the Spring Fling committee gossips, no doubt.
    " Yes." Jones didn't volunteer anything more.
    Before the full- scale interrogation commenced I blurted, "It was my fault. I was distracted, worried about Pops."
    " All right. Well, we all know you've been under stress." Danny wandered off to protect and serve someone else just as the tow truck from Mike's Garage showed and rigged up my sweet little ride.
    " This is so not my month," I muttered.
    Jones stood by my side. "Thank you."
    " I didn't mean to say that. It's just that they are all so suspicious of strangers around here, and they don't make 'em much stranger than you." Oops, that didn't come out right.
    Our eyes locked , and my stomach dropped somewhere down by my knees. The wind picked up, and the skies threatened one hell of a storm in the making.
    " Can I offer you a ride?" he asked.
    My gut told me Jones wouldn 't haul me off into the woods to mutilate me. A police officer had seen us