Death is Long Overdue (Phee Jefferson Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

ago, but I heard through the grapevine that he was interested in someone new," Mom continued. She was oblivious to my heartbreak over her news.
    Abruptly I said, "I'm sorry, Mom, but I've got to go.  My dinner is getting cold. I'll see you on Sunday.  Love you."
    "Love you, too, honey."
    Standing up, I trudged across my black and white tile floor to hang the phone up.  I don't know why I was surprised or upset that Clint was interested in someone new.  After all, he was handsome and had a great sense of humor. He was just really an all- around nice guy.  His only fault was that he went through girlfriends like I went through a bag of chocolate chip cookies.  Fast.  His most recent girlfriend, Simone, was an attorney from Burlington.  I actually liked her because she was smart, accomplished, and pretty without being bitchy.  Not that I wasn't glad that Clint wasn't with her.  I just wished I could figure out how to get him to realize that I was a grown woman and not a kid anymore. I speared some chicken and lettuce onto a fork.
    "Ferdie, my friend," I said to him as he coiled in and out of my chair legs, "it is time for me to realize that Clint is not interested in me and move on. I just need to get over him and get a life."  I stood up, walked to the sink and washed my few dishes.  Drying my hands on my vintage days-of-the-week tea towel, I decided I might just have to bring my own date to the party on Sunday.  It was time I put away the fantasies and started to living in the real world. “But before I do that," I reached down and picked up Ferdie to carry him with me, "let's watch Roman Holiday one more time."
    I changed into my flannel pajamas covered with sheep dressed in various cocktail dresses holding glasses of wine. I shoved my feet into my favorite skunk slippers and pulled my unruly curls into a ponytail on the top of my head.  Grabbing a quilt in varying shades of blue that my grandmother had made for me, I walked to my living room and settled onto my 1920's chaise lounge.  The only concession to the modern age in the living room was my television and DVD player which I had tastefully hidden in one of the many built-in mahogany bookcases.  I loved my house. Each room was decorated in a style from the early half of the 20th century.  My lack of social life had one perk.  It gave me plenty of time to hunt through the antique stores searching for the perfect pieces to add to my home. Hitting "play" on the remote control, the opening theme song played and I snuggled into my blanket.
    Just as I was getting comfortable, my doorbell buzzed.  Sighing, I stood up and walked into the foyer to peek through the side window before opening the door.  It was Clint, and I was in flannel sheep pajamas and skunk slippers.  Great.  But what did I care?  I had decided to move on.  I opened the door.
    "Hey there, Flea," Clint said.  A slow smile spread across his face as his green eyes took in my fashion ensemble.  He wasn't good looking in a movie star perfect looks kind of way.  He was more ruggedly handsome.  Clint looked like a cowboy who worked hard and spent time out on the range roping calves and sleeping next to a campfire.  His nose was slightly crooked from where my brother broke it accidentally when they got too rough playing football one Saturday at our house when we were kids.  He had a little dimple in his chin that my mother always said was where an angel had kissed him when he was born.
    "I told you to quit calling me that!  I'm not twelve years old anymore.  I am a twenty-eight-year-old woman. An adult!" I glowered at him.  "What do you want?"
    "A little touchy tonight, aren't you? Those sheep pajamas and slippers scream twelve years old, but I like them.  They are most definitely you. I just came to give you an update on the case. Can I come inside?"  Clint asked.  I opened the door wider and motioned him inside.  He wasn't in his uniform.  Instead, he wore some old faded jeans, a