The Focaccia Fatality Read Free

without the slightest idea of what to buy. Slumped against the door jamb, I gazed at the array of clothing that did nothing to make me want to wear any of it to a party with Porter.
    I leaned into the closet, peered toward the farthest end of it, and locked my gaze onto the least likely, but most tempting of outfits. I pulled the rich red dress, layered with sparkling stones across the bodice, off the rack and sized it up. I’d bought it in January when stores were attempting to unload their stock. Not only had I saved a lot of money on the purchase, but I’d felt excited about the sensual, sexy look of the fabric that clung to my skin, when I’d tried it on in the store. My usual clothing choices were less close-to-the-body than this, due to fluffiness at my waistline. I draped the dress against me and gave it the once over in the full-length mirror that hung on the closet door. This was exactly what I’d hoped to find among my belongings. I quickly tried it on and realized it fit me better than it had when I’d bought it.
    There’s nothing like involvement in two murder investigations, and a grandmother who consistently walks on the wild side, to cause a girl to lose a bit of weight. I twirled in front of the mirror, studying the drape as I moved. Satisfied, and happy to not have to shop for a dress, I hung it up and skipped down the stairs and into the kitchen.
    After the bakery was closed and Samantha had gone for the day, BettyJo sauntered in. Chatting, we walked up the street to Mack and Mutt’s sandwich shop on the corner of our row of shops. I mentioned the dress I planned to wear and asked to borrow some jewelry from BettyJo to complete the look I wanted for the party.
    Excitedly, she said, “I have the perfect set. You’ll love it. When we get back, I’ll bring it over.”

Chapter 2
    Mirrors tell no lies. The red dress fit so well, I realized how nice it is when a curvy girl finds apparel that doesn’t fight with her figure. I tend to eat bread, and exercise is the last thing on my agenda.
    I turned this way and that, admiring the dress and jewelry BettyJo had graciously loaned me. The chain was gold with rich ruby colored stones tucked into it. The largest of the stones was in a setting that pointed into my cleavage. The total look caused excitement to race through me. I turned around once more for a rear view as I heard a loud knock on the downstairs door. My apartment is above the bakery and the staircase is next to the back entry of it. I hurried down the steps to answer the summons. Outside, Porter stood dressed in a suit and topcoat that made him look handsomer than usual. I smiled and invited him in.
    “You look stunning in that dress, Melina,” he said and gave me the once over twice.
    I laughed happily and thanked him as I slipped into my coat and checked my small purse. Lipstick, keys, money and my driver’s license. I snapped the purse shut and tucked my arm into the crook of Porter’s elbow. “Let’s get this party started,” I said.
    His good humor lasted the entire evening. We drank, ate, and danced until I thought my feet would never be the same. The hour had grown late. Out on the nightclub patio, I heard his phone jingle from inside his jacket and waited quietly while he answered the call. He didn’t say much, but spoke in two or three word sentences, acknowledging the information he was given. I knew then and there that our evening of fun had come to an end.
    He tucked the phone into his pocket and gave me a disappointed look. “Duty calls, I’m afraid. Sorry, Melina. The evening has been great, and I’d like to take you out again if you’re willing to put up with me.”
    I gave him a kiss on the cheek and said, “I’d like that. I’ll get my coat.”
    Inside, other cops readied to leave with their wives and girlfriends in tow. So this was the life they’d had to adjust to? Momentarily, I wondered how many birthdays and other celebrations these cops missed because of