A Killer in the Rye Read Online Free PDF Page A

in all, three people in lab coats, and more yellow caution tape than in a haunted house. What had happened to my deli? Would anyone actually come in for the luncheon, assuming they were allowed inside?
    Dani finished quickly. The police were officially beginning to wrap it up.
    â€œOh no, here comes the body,” Luke gushed.
    I saw it, too. Right through my kitchen! Jerome H. Christ!
    Because the outside back of the shop was a crime scene, paramedics with the medical examiner’s office wheeled the bagged body on a squeaky gurney past my counter and through my freshly set dining room, pushing tables and chairs out of the way, and then continued rolling the shimmying body bag through the jingling front door into the bright sunlight for all of gawking Nashville to see. I noticed Blondie out there. She’d probably eat most of a sandwich and then ask to be comped because she found blood on the crust.
    An EMT accidentally flipped the sign to read OPEN and without missing a beat the crowd began to surge forward. They were met and pushed back by Thom, who flipped the sign back to CLOSED.
    Mercifully, the coroner hadn’t asked Joe’s wife to come down and identify the body. That would be done at the morgue. I didn’t think I could handle Brenda today. Not after the conversation we’d had the day before.
    â€œLove, once the police leave, I think we should send everyone home,” Thom said with kind eyes. “I will help you lock up, and all.”
    â€œAre you crazy, Thom? I can’t send the staff home and still pull off this luncheon!”
    â€œI don’t think she’s the crazy one,” Luke interjected.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œNash, you can’t be serious, can you? You can’t do the lunch-in thing.”
    â€œLuke, shut up. I don’t work for you.”
    His eyes said “Ow.” I knew I shouldn’t have said that, but I’d had enough of him, and I couldn’t afford to lose control of my staff just then.
    Thom and Luke just glared at me, like they’d come upon someone peeing on a wall. Fortunately, rescue was around the corner. Literally. Detective Grant Daniels who had been involved with the team from homicide—came walking from the kitchen to where I was sitting at the counter.
    â€œPardon me, Gwen. Can I see you a sec?”
    â€œI already gave your guys a statement.”
    â€œI know. It’s not about that.”
    â€œWhat, then?”
    â€œYou have to close it down today,” he said.
    â€œWhy? You gonna order takeout for the department, make up for my shortfall?”
    â€œNo, but I’ve already told the chief I’m leaving early. We can get away for the afternoon, okay?”
    â€œOkay? I already told your CSI: Nashville team I didn’t see anything or hear anything. A little sweet talk isn’t going to make me remember. Besides, do you not understand? I’m up for Best Mid-Range Restaurant in Nashville! That’s important to me. My family never won that. I just need my bread, if it hasn’t been marinating in blood, and also for all your people to leave. That’s what has to happen! What’s so hard to understand about that?”
    Fine. I was sounding a little crazy. I could hear it with my own two ears. But I had a point. To me, anyway.
    â€œDo you really think anyone’s going to come?” Grant asked.
    â€œAre you nuts? You see that crowd outside? They’ll come. It’ll be the biggest bash they’ve ever had, rubbernecking to see if we got all the blood and guts.”
    â€œThat’s a big ew,” Luke said.
    â€œPut a potato in it,” I snapped.
    â€œNash,” Grant cooed, “you really should—”
    Just then I swore, loudly and foully. I happened to spot Dani talking to someone at the back door. Someone with a tiny tape recorder. Please God, please don’t let it be the National .
    I bolted from the chair, jogged through the kitchen, pulled