As Gouda as Dead Read Online Free PDF

worked.”
    Paige let out with a high-pitched whinny of a laugh.
    â€œHave either of you seen Tim?” I asked.
    â€œThe last I saw, he was pouring a pitcher of beer for that table over there.” Paige pointed to a group of four. I recognized them. They were California tourists who had come into The Cheese Shop earlier and had bought out my entire assortment of New England cheeses.
    â€œWhen was that?”
    â€œOver an hour ago.” She snorted again. “We’ve been here awhile.” She ran a finger along the rim of her glass of beer. “I’m nursing my one and only. A girl’s got to party, just not too hearty, don’t you think?”
    â€œHow about you, Violet?” I noticed the pack of cigarettes she was toying with. A cigarette was missing. Perhaps holding the pack helped her over the hurdle of needing to smoke another. I knew a man who would suck on an unlit cigar all day. Years ago, I’d suggested trying a lollipop, but he wouldn’t go for it. I said, “Did you happen to see Tim when you went outside for a smoke?”
    â€œAha!” Paige
tsk
ed. “That’s why you snuck out.” The disappointment in her tone was heavy-handed.
    â€œNo. I mean, yes. I had one. Only one.” Violet tucked the cigarettes into her purse, and then leaned toward me. “I’m trying to quit.”
    I said, “The kitchen staff said Tim went out back, by the garbage.”
    â€œI wasn’t out there. I was in the parking lot.”
    â€œSo you didn’t see Tim.”
    â€œNo.” Violet tapped her manicured fingertips on the table.
    â€œOne of the staff thought Tim might have driven off in his truck.”
    Violet’s eyes brightened. “You know, now that you mention it, I did see Tim. In his truck. Driving away. And I noticed someone else. Jawbone.”
    â€œJones?”
    â€œHow many Jawbones can there be?” she quipped.
    The first time I’d met Jawbone Jones, who was the owner of a gun shop, I felt scared down to my toes. His appearance wasn’t the typical look people sported in Providence. He shaved his head, he wore a goatee, and he had the word
king
tattooed on his neck. However, over the past year, I had grown to enjoy him. He was a true aficionado of hard cheeses. I remembered how he would wax rhapsodic about Vermont Shepherd Invierno cheese, a sublime mixture of cow and sheep’s milk with a mushroomy taste. He would also purchase a huge portion of Jordan’s Pace Hill Farm Double-cream Gouda whenever he came in; he said it was his mother’s favorite.
    â€œWhy did you notice him?” I asked.
    â€œBecause he peeled rubber and sped off in his truck, too. Maybe he was chasing Tim.”
    â€œWhich way did Jawbone go?”
    â€œHe made a right turn.”
    That would mean he had headed north.
    â€œDid Tim drive the same direction?”
    â€œI think so.” Violet linked a finger into the hair at the nape of her neck and twirled. “You know, Ray Pfeiffer might have seen him, too.” Ray was the latest owner of The Ice Castle, the rink where I’d learned to skate ages ago. “He was outside fetching something from his car.” She gazed toward the ceiling, as if picturing something in her mind. “Jawbone was definitely in a hurry.”
    I scanned the pub. “Is Ray still here?” Maybe he had seen more than Violet had.
    â€œNo, he and Dottie left a while ago. You know how it is with Dottie. She’s got to hit the hay so she can get up early to make all those pastries of hers.”
    â€œThose sugar-loaded fattening pastries,” Paige said under her breath.
    Those
delicious
pastries, I thought, but kept my opinion to myself. Dottie was the owner of the Providence Pâtisserie, from which our shop purchased many of the breads we used to make sandwiches.
    I hurried to O’Shea and tapped him on the shoulder. He whipped around.
    I apologized to the pub