Killer Gourmet Read Online Free PDF

if the beasts don’t gnaw our feet off the moment we get inside.”
    Just as Savannah was sliding her key into the front door lock, she heard her next-door neighbor’s door open and slam shut.
    Then there was a scurrying of feet along the sidewalk, and a shout. “Hey! Savannah, Dirk. Wait a minute. I’ve got something for you.”
    Savannah sighed and steeled herself. It was Mrs. Normandy, her nosy, intrusive neighbor with the lousy sense of timing. The dear lady had an uncanny ability to schedule her impromptu and unannounced visits at the most inconvenient times.
    It wasn’t that Savannah didn’t like her neighbor. She truly believed that Mrs. Normandy had a good heart and meant well. But she always seemed to time her visits when Savannah was the most exhausted and wanted nothing more than a hot bubble bath, some sort of soothing beverage, and a bite of chocolate.
    Pasting her best fake smile on her face, Savannah turned to greet the woman. “Aw, Mrs. Normandy, how lovely to see you, bless your heart. And at such a late hour. I’d have thought you’d be snug as a bug in a rug, snoozing away in your bed by now.”
    â€œI should be asleep at this hour,” Mrs. Normandy said with a huff and a puff as she made her way up the few steps to the porch. “It’s long past my bedtime for sure. But I made a promise that as soon as you two got home I’d bring this over and put it right in your hands.”
    She held out a lovely wicker basket that was covered with a fine linen napkin. One corner of the cloth was embroidered with an elegant, scrolled S .
    Recognizing both the basket and the cloth, Savannah felt her heart leap with joy. “Oh, you dear, precious lady,” she said as she took the basket from her neighbor and clutched it to her chest. “You have no idea how grateful I am at this moment.”
    With eyes that were pretty sharp for a woman older than ninety, Mrs. Normandy looked Savannah over from head to toe, then scrutinized Dirk in the same manner. She lifted her right eyebrow, and one side of her lip curled a bit as she took in the gray wig and ratty clothes.
    When Mrs. Normandy had first moved in years ago she had frequently questioned the fact that, from time to time, Savannah left home and returned wearing unconventional clothing. Tattered homeless-lady outfits. Garish hooker garb. Once in a while she even covered her hair with a baseball cap and dressed like a man.
    On numerous occasions Savannah had attempted to explain the concept of undercover attire to her curious neighbor. Mrs. Normandy had failed to grasp the idea, and Savannah had given up trying to enlighten her. She suspected that the elderly lady somewhat enjoyed having eccentrics for neighbors. It added a bit of color to her otherwise mundane life.
    â€œThank you, Mrs. Normandy,” Dirk said. “We really appreciate your staying up late just to give that to us.”
    Offering him a coquettish grin, the lady tossed her head and said, “Oh, I don’t mind. I’d do about anything for one of San Carmelita’s finest. I always did like a man in uniform.”
    Savannah stifled a chuckle. Cop groupies, they were everywhere. They came in all shapes, sizes . . . and apparently, all ages.
    Dirk cleared his throat and gave her one of his most flirtatious smiles and a quick wink. “Serve and protect, ma’am,” he said as he opened the door and ushered Savannah and the basket inside. “Serve and protect. If you need anything, you just give us a ring, and I’ll be right over.”
    Mrs. Normandy giggled as she minced off the porch and back down the stairs. “Oh, I will,” she said. “I most certainly will.”
    Savannah shook her head as she entered the foyer and tossed her purse onto Granny’s heirloom piecrust table. “You shouldn’t have said that,” she told Dirk as he took off his shoulder holster and placed it and his