Chicken Caccia-Killer (A Jordan McAllister Mystery) Read Online Free PDF

narrowed her eyes in an I-can’t-believe-you–just–said-that glare. “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, Aaron is the one who helped me after the accident.” She moved closer to her escort, obviously aware of the way he was smiling at Jordan.
    Apparently, Alex had caught it, too, and slid in beside her, extending his hand toward the therapist. “Alex Moreland, Jordan’s date.”
    The man finally took his eyes off Jordan and reached for Alex’s hand. “Aaron Conley. I work at Ranchero Rehab Hospital off Texoma Parkway.”
    “I’ve been doing some checking on you,” Loretta said, glancing toward Jordan’s empty plate. “My sources say you’ve been seen a lot at the fast food joints around town. That’s kind of weird for a girl who writes about gourmet food, don’t you think?”
    Jordan swallowed back a groan, wondering if Loretta had somehow figured out she was a fraud. “No weirder than leaving town for nine months.” She tilted her head toward Mr. America. “With your friend here, expecting to waltz in and get your old job back when you came home broke.”
    Loretta’s gaze turned to steel. “So that’s how we’re going to play this?”
    “You started it,” Jordan said before lowering her voice. “I’m willing to be fair and do the best job I can. I guess we’ll have to wait until after the festival to see who’s the better columnist and let your uncle make his decision based on that.”
    Jordan heard Alex’s sharp intake of breath behind her and cringed, realizing she hadn’t yet told him about the conversation in her editor’s office the day before.
    “It’s that old ‘keep your friends close and your enemies closer’ thing.” Loretta grabbed Aaron’s hand and pulled him from the table. “Good luck, Jordan. You’re gonna need it because you’re out of your league, out of your element, and soon you’ll be out of a job,” Then she walked away, dragging her therapist with her.
    “She’s a piece of work,” Victor commented from the other end of the table where he was already digging into a plate of cannolis. “You got her pretty good, though, with that coming- home-broke zinger.”
    “What was that all about, Jordan?” Alex asked.
    “Loretta came back from Las Vegas with her tail between her legs and demanded her old job back,” Victor answered for her.
    Alex moved closer and touched Jordan’s hand. “I’m so sorry, honey. Does this mean you won’t be writing the Kitchen Kupboard anymore?”
    “I don’t know,” she answered, truthfully. “We both have to write about the festival, and then Egan will decide.” She moved to the end of the table and the cannolis, resigning herself to the fact that if she didn’t have her trusted Hostess Ho Ho’s available to lift her spirits, cream filled Italian pastries would have to do. “Right now I don’t want to think about that and ruin the party. Tomorrow’s soon enough to worry about my job.”
    She wrinkled her nose before spotting a chafing dish in the middle of the table. Her smile returned after she made her way there and peeked under the lid. It was chicken parmesan, one of her favorites. She filled her plate, grabbed a hunk of bread, and followed Alex through the opened glass doors.
    Seeing the balcony for the first time caused a collective ‘ah’ from the group. Dotted with six or eight tables sporting the same elegant white table linen and flag-colored roses as the main dining room, it was as big as her kitchen and living room combined. Only this patio came with a cobblestone floor.
    Finding a vacant table, they pulled more chairs around. Jordan sat next to Victor, noticing his plate was piled even higher than hers. She giggled to herself, knowing her friend probably hadn’t eaten lunch, either. There were two things in life he loved besides Michael—eating and free food.
    After cleaning her plate, she followed Alex to the gorgeous stone railing to get a better view. “Oh, my! Look how gorgeous this