Maid for Murder Read Online Free PDF Page A

watched Sweety Boy’s antics, designed to get her attention. The chirping little bird pranced back and forth along his perch, his wings ruffling and fluttering.
    “So you missed me, did you?” she said, locking the front door behind her and setting down her purse in a chair. “Well, it’s good to know that somebody misses me when I’m gone.”
    Charlotte opened the door of the birdcage and offered her forefinger. The parakeet immediately hopped on. “Say ‘I missed you, Charlotte,’” she told him in a high-pitched singsong voice. “Come on, Sweety, say it now, say ‘I missed you, Charlotte.’”
    The little bird cocked his head but said nothing. Charlotte grimaced. The few times she’d given in to a weak moment and envisioned owning a pet, she thought about a cat or a dog, but never a bird. Then, six months ago, the tenants who had been renting the other side of the double skipped out, owing her two months in back rent Not only had they left the place in a shambles; they’d also left the little parakeet behind.
    When she’d discovered him, he was in pitiful shape, half-starved and wheezing, with a discharge coming from his eyes and nostrils.
    She’d immediately rushed him to a vet, and with antibiotics, food, and care, she’d nursed him back to health. Only recently had she decided to teach him to talk, but so far, she’d had no luck.
    Charlotte repeated the same phrase four more times before finally giving up. “Come on, boy. Enough for today.” She withdrew him from the cage. “Exercise time for you.”
    The moment he was free of the confines of his cage, he flew directly to her shoulder. There he pranced back and forth for several moments, his tiny claws tickling her through her blouse. Finally, he grew tired of the game and flew off toward the cuckoo clock.
    The top of the clock was one of the little bird’s favorite out-of-cage perches, and Charlotte had a sneaking suspicion that the silly parakeet thought the cuckoo was a real bird. Just thinking about it always made her grin.
    She was still grinning when she glanced over at her desk and saw the light on her answering machine blinking rapidly, indicating several messages. Her grin instantly dissolved into a frown, followed by a groan. Still feeling hot and sweaty from sweeping the Dubuissons’ gallery, she had hoped to have a nice refreshing shower as soon as she got home.
    “Business before pleasure,” she muttered as she hit the REPLAY button.
    The first message was from her son, reminding her that she’d promised to attend the annual Zoo To Do fund-raiser with him that evening. “As if I could forget,” she muttered.
    Because Hank was on call at the hospital, he suggested that she meet him at the event instead of his picking her up. Then he gave her specific instructions as to where and what time to meet him.
    “And Mother,” he added, “you know how dangerous it can be at night for a woman alone, so . . .”
    Charlotte rolled her eyes upward toward the ceiling as she listened to her son proceed to give her a short lecture about driving at night and taking the proper safety precautions. Never mind that she’d been driving alone at night since he was in diapers, thought Charlotte.
    With a shake of her head, Charlotte let out a weary sigh. Poor Hank. What was she going to do about him? Such a worrywart. And such a pain in the butt at times. First the incessant nagging about retirement and now all these highfalutin social events he insisted she attend.
    She hated to admit it, but she was beginning to suspect that her beloved only child was turning into a bit of a snob. He knew better than to come right out and say so, but it was becoming increasingly evident that the great doctor was embarrassed that his mother still worked as a maid.
    “How soon we forget,” she grumbled when Hank’s message ended. “Never mind that it was my maid service that helped put him through medical school.”
    After Hank’s message, there were a couple of