Death Loves a Messy Desk Read Online Free PDF

the driveway leading to his business, I thought. He’d sunk a ton of money into the landscaping. I could imagine that a messy desk might send a bad message to the kind of man who cared so deeply about appearances. No wonder Fredelle didn’t want her heroic boss to know about Barb Douglas’s problem.
    I wanted to do the best I could for this kindly silvery woman who cared so much about the well-being of her staff. I suppose I should have been thinking less about her and paying more attention to the road.
    An image filled my view. A vehicle? Wasn’t it supposed to be on the other side of the median? Had I made a mistake? I squeaked in alarm as I realized that the speeding green SUV was aiming straight for me on the wrong side of the road.

3

    Avoid surprises and a soggy outfit.
Always keep a small umbrella in your briefcase
as well as a clear plastic bag to store it after use.

    I froze. The vehicle was weaving wildly, leaving me no place to go. The white-faced woman driving seemed totally unaware of me. Seconds from a head-on collision, I unfroze long enough to whip the steering wheel to the right. As the Miata skidded toward the SUV, I yanked the wheel left and slid around. I managed to gun the engine and propel the car onto the grassy median. I slammed on my brakes, and my beloved Miata repaid me by jumping the low concrete planter in the middle. I heard the crunch as the undercarriage met the concrete. I scrambled out of the car and dashed across the median to the other lane to get the license plate number before the SUV was out of sight. But it had already rocketed around the corner.
    As I stood openmouthed, a black-and-silver eighteen-wheeler shuddered to a stop in back of me with a loud whoosh of air brakes. That was something: first, being driven off the road and now standing in the path of a truck. Big rigs have always made me nervous. Stupid, I know, but my heart just hammers if I get too close to one. I dashed quickly to the side of the road. To add to the moment, it started to rain.
    A burly middle-aged man with a baseball cap and an oversize mustache jumped down from the cab and stomped toward me, gesticulating. He was followed shortly by a younger guy with white-blond hair buzzed almost to the scalp. He was also tan. And very buff. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the Celtic tattoos decorating both his arms.
    The first guy said, “Are you nuts? Do you know how long it takes to stop one of these rigs?”
    The young guy pointed to the Miata. “What the hell? How did you get a freakin’ license?”
    I react badly to that kind of comment. “I’m sorry, but you should ask the idiot who just shot down the wrong side of the road.” I pointed to the other side before I snapped open my cell phone to call Tony’s Towing. I’d sorted out Tony’s office and he’s always been grateful.
    The older guy got the point. “How did you get stuck on that?”
    “Not my fault,” I said.
    “No, miss. Ah’m sure,” he said, dropping the grin, or maybe just hiding it behind that seventies mustache.
    The second one still glowered.
    I looked up at them from my full height of four foot eleven and said, “The wild woman I mentioned? That speeding SUV forced me off the road.”
    The first man scratched his baseball cap and opened his mouth. He said, “I think that was . . .”
    The second one shook his head slightly. Some secret trucker code perhaps.
    “Well, hell, I’m Mel,” the mustache man said. “And he’s Del. And you must be?”
    Were they yanking my chain? I narrowed my eyes at them. “Just swell.”
    He snorted. “Can’t help our names, now, can we? Let’s get you off that bit of concrete, little lady,” Mel, if that was really his name, said. “Get back behind the wheel of that rice-burning toy and we’ll get you on the road. Won’t we, Del?”
    “That Miss Swell or Mrs. Swell?” Del said.
    “I’ll just call my towing company,” I said snootily.
    “Now, now, little lady, don’t mind Del. He