Flourless to Stop Him Read Online Free PDF Page B

narrowed eye of guilt.
    “There was no time.” I settled back into my chair and took a nice forkful of salad. “I was lucky to call Brad beforeOfficer Bright could stop me.” I shoved salad in my mouth so I had an excuse not to talk.
    “We need some kind of text signal,” Grandma muttered and smothered her coffee in artificial sweetener and a dash of cream. Then she picked up her own bowl of salad. “Like 411 or something, so I know to come hunt you down.”
    I chewed and swallowed. “I was at the Red Tile Inn. How would you have known where to find me?”
    “There’s such a thing as the senior network in this small town.” Grandma’s blue eyes twinkled. “I’m telling you that if you sent me a simple 411 text I’d be able to find you anywhere, anytime, within five minutes. Then you wouldn’t have to worry about the cops. It would simply be your old grandma, showing up as planned.”
    “Snapping pictures and writing in her notebook,” I said and forked more salad in my mouth.
    “Everyone in town knows I carry my notebook everywhere. Once a newswoman, always a newswoman.” Unlike me, Grandma had no qualms about talking with her mouth full of salad.
    “Are you telling me that when Candy is in her nineties, she’ll be running around with her computer tablet in hand, taking notes?”
    “That’s right.” Grandma nodded and waved her fork, sending lettuce flying around the room, much to the pup’s delight. “Once a newswoman, always a newswoman.”
    “Then how come you don’t have a police scanner?”
    “I had one a few years back, but Bill said it kept waking him up.”
    I winced and put my salad down on the table. “Grandma, I don’t want to know that Bill spends the night with you.”
    “Oh, he doesn’t. The police scanner kept disturbing his afternoon nap.”
    Not that the image of chubby Bill, with his shock of white hair and round jelly belly, napping at Grandma’s was muchbetter. “You’re getting soft if you choose Bill over the news,” I pointed out as I rose to check on the lasagna.
    “If you dated, you would do things for your man, too.” Grandma huffed.
    “I’m still working through the trauma of my divorce,” I said as I stepped out of the room. Mom’s death had come on the heels of my divorce from Eric. I had come home from work early to find him naked in my bed with his best friend’s wife. I was less disturbed by his behavior than I was by the idea that I had let him dupe me. It had been less than a year since I signed the divorce papers. I still didn’t trust myself to make smart choices when it came to men.
    I plated the lasagna and took it into the den. “Brad tells me the police grilled Tim for three hours.” I snapped my fingers to catch the dog’s attention and then pointed at the living room. The rule was no dogs in the area of food. I’d been lenient with the salad, but I wasn’t going to tempt him with the casserole.
    “Your brother had nothing to do with that murder,” Grandma said and slurped her coffee.
    “Well, I know that and you know that, but Chief Blaylock has no other leads at this time.”
    “That’s because it takes six months to get evidence back from the county lab. Real life is nothing like those crime shows on television,” Grandma said around a forkful of lasagna.
    “I know,” I said. “The county lab is understaffed, overworked, and underbudgeted. You wrote a blog on it last month.”
    “And I got great feedback.” Grandma waved her fork. “Paula Ashford is on the ballot for the county board. She needs to know that people expect more from the justice system.”
    “I’m sure Paula reads your blog.” I took a bite of the lasagna. I had discovered gluten-free rice noodles at the grocerystore. It was simply a matter of practice before I perfected my gluten-free lasagna recipe. Thankfully I wasn’t lactose intolerant as well as celiac. I could indulge in ricotta cheese and mozzarella. I had added spinach and mushrooms to jazz up