Foods, Fools and a Dead Psychic by Maria Swan (read a book .TXT) 📗

hands. Where is a tissue when you need one? And there was Scott, knocking on my car window.

“Hey Monica, I just installed your sign. Nice listing. I put a rider on the post, with your cell number. Did you just get here or are you leaving?”

He removed other agents’ sign riders from the back of his truck.

That was my cue. Got out of my car and followed Scott into the office. “Why so many vehicles?” I asked.

“Celine.” He snorted, “She’s doing some girls crap. I don’t know. Ask Kassandra.”

The last person I wanted to see was Celine. Oh well, maybe she did her thing in her mother’s office. I hurried to keep up with Scott’s long, fast strides. “What happened to your ski trip?”

“I skied one afternoon, cost me about $100 and I nearly froze my butt off. So I turned around and came back. I’ll go up to Flagstaff on Saturday. I hear they have a few inches of fresh powder.”

I nodded, “Snowbowl?”

“Yeah, wanna join me?”

Like a weekend with a young dude and his beer guzzling buddies was on my playlist. “Huh, no. Hate snow,” I mumbled as he opened the door to the office and let me in.

Kassandra barely acknowledged our presence. She seemed peeved somehow. Scott took a look around, about half dozen females in their twenties were taking up space here and there, while Celine, all dressed in Christmassy colors, moved around with a basket filled with I don’t know what.

Scott dropped the riders on Kassandra’s desk, then pivoted on his heels saying, “I’m out of here.” Loud. Then under his breath, “Bitches.”

True Scott. At least he made Kassandra smile.

“Is it safe to go to my desk?” I asked.

“Hey, there was a hottie with a tight ass looking for you. You just missed him.”

I shook my head, remembering Max. “No, I didn’t.”

“Oh, oh. Is that? That’s him. Right? Why are you so grouchy about it? I got your... emergency kit... but I suggest you wait until the swarm of wannabees leaves.”

“What are they doing?”

She shrugged, “Maids of honor to someone’s wedding? All Celine’s girlfriends. Was supposed to happen at Sunny’s place, but something about tree roots and backed up sewers changed their plans. So they ended up here. And the brainless blonde gives me a list and expects me to have food and booze delivered. As if. Freaking B**H. She’s going around with that stupid basket and they pick the names of who’s doing what. So, you going out with your hot stud? Did you tell him?”

“Tell him what? And no, he came by to let me know he’s moving to Colorado where he found true love.”

Why did I say that? I couldn’t stand the look of oh, you poor girl I was getting from Kassandra.

“I’m going home.”

I left as fast as I could so she wouldn’t have a chance to make me change my mind. And without the pregnancy kit she’d promised me.

I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to cry. It had been that kind of day. My cell chimed.

“Hey,” I sighed. “Hi, Brenda.”

“Please, curb your enthusiasm,” she chided.

“You’re speaking television sitcom now?”

“I couldn’t resist. What’s wrong?” she asked and it felt awkward. For weeks she’d been the one who was depressed and withdrawn. Now that she seemed to have bounced back, my life was coming unraveled. “Oh, you know. This and that.”

“This and that? How do you come up with those answers? Is it work?”

I felt like a real jerk. “Sorry. No, and by the way, thanks for getting me that listing. It goes on the market in the morning.” Now that I had her attention, I had to ask her a question I’d been avoiding. “Brenda, are you giving up the catering business?”

“Give up my catering? Of course not. But I’m making changes. Trying to create a more ‘healthy’ image. That’s the reason for the home gym. I’ll be part of the healthy image, right?”

“Right.”

“I’m running late and I was wondering if you can check on Dior.”

“Is Tommy at your house?”

“That’s just it. I don’t know. He was supposed to get the setup completed today and take the dog for a walk. But he isn’t answering the phone and I’m a little concerned. If you get home before I do, could you take care of Dior for me?”

“I’m two minutes from home. I’ll take Dior for a walk, I can use some exercise anyway. I just don’t like to be around your nephew, sorry.”

“Totally justified. He’s going back to his place this evening and Bob is working the late shift. Why don’t you plan on coming over and I’ll tell you about the new project?”

“The new project? With Officer Clarke?” My sarcasm couldn’t be missed.

“Of course not. He isn’t getting involved with the actual day-to-day business. Hey, got to run. See you in a few hours and don’t let Tommy get to you.”

I drove into my own garage. No sign of Tommy or his motorcycle. Didn’t know if that was good or bad. I went inside, changed from my business clothes to sweats and sneakers. With phone and keys in my pocket, I knocked on Brenda’s back door. As soon as he heard me, Dior began barking and scratching. I counted to ten and then let myself in with the extra key. Inside, the house was dark. Dior jumped on me and before I made it past the kitchen, I knew he had pooped somewhere in the house. The stink was overwhelming. Damn.

“Tommy,” I called out. “Anyone?” No answer.

I started to walk around, opening drapes and blinds, stepping carefully. The house was a mess. It looked like whoever had been assembling what looked like a treadmill had quit before finishing the job. Open cardboard boxes, screwdrivers and I didn’t know what else lay scattered everywhere. Dior didn’t look too happy either.

Could he have been locked in the house all day? I walked into the kitchen and sure enough, I found an empty water bowl and no food. No wonder the poor