Scrapbook of the Dead Read Online Free PDF

place. This morning, it nearly smacked her over the head with its tackiness. Teddy bears and hearts and pictures of barns and quilts were everywhere. Not to mention the funky-colored afghans over all the chairs and the sofa.
    â€œI’m not staying,” DeeAnn said, “but I stopped by the B and B to give Randy this and Elsie said he was here.” She handed the coffee cake to Paige.
    â€œHe stayed here last night. Fell asleep in front of the TV, just like old times.” Paige’s eyes were bright. Her boy was home—and DeeAnn knew it was all Paige could do to keep from shouting it from the rooftops. “I know you said you’ve got to go, but can you stay for just one cup of coffee? Randy just made some really good stuff.”
    Suddenly, DeeAnn wondered if Randy, the gourmet, would appreciate her silly coffee cake. “Well, okay,” she said after a moment and followed Paige into the kitchen where Earl and Randy were sitting at the table drinking coffee, which smelled downright heavenly.
    â€œOh hey, DeeAnn. What do you have there?” Randy asked.
    â€œJust a coffee cake,” she said. “I thought you could use a little something from the oven this morning.”
    â€œHow sweet!” He rose from the table, took the cake from her, and gave her a hug. “Mama, get a knife. Have a seat, DeeAnn.”
    DeeAnn sat down and marveled at him. He seemed fine. She wasn’t so certain she’d be. But he seemed to have bounced right back.
    Paige set a cup of coffee in front of DeeAnn and Randy set a slice of her own cake in front of her.
    â€œHow do you like staying at Elsie’s?” she asked.
    â€œIt’s fine. I just can’t wait for my own place, though. I’m going to see some houses this afternoon.”
    â€œSo you’re staying?”
    â€œI’m not going anywhere,” he said. “I don’t scare off that easily.”
    â€œYou’re feeling better?” DeeAnn took a sip of the best coffee she’d ever had in her life.
    â€œI’m getting there. I’m sure it’s just a matter of time. I need to keep busy to keep my mind off it, you know?”
    â€œGood way of looking at it,” DeeAnn said.
    Randy took a bite of her coffee cake and rolled his eyes with pleasure. “Ahh. DeeAnn, my culinary professors have nothing on you, woman. I’ve always said you’re the best baker I know.”
    DeeAnn beamed. Maybe she wouldn’t retire. Not quite yet. “Why, thank you. That’s very kind of you.”
    â€œNot at all.”
    Just then, the doorbell rang, and Paige wandered off to see who it was.
    â€œDetective Bryant?” DeeAnn heard Paige say. “Please come in. We’re all in the kitchen.”
    As the detective entered the room, DeeAnn caught her breath. He was such a handsome man, so confident. He walked with an interesting little swagger. And he was built like a brick house. A moving, hard-flesh one.
    â€œHello,” he said as he entered the room.
    â€œWell, what are you doing here?” Earl said and started to get up from the table.
    Bryant made a gesture for him to sit. “Unfortunately, I’m here on business,” he said, looking at Randy.
    Randy’s brows knitted. “Are you here about Marina?”
    â€œIn a roundabout way.”
    â€œPlease sit down,” Paige said. “Can I get you some coffee?”
    â€œNormally, I’d say no, but it smells so good, I can’t resist,” Bryant said.
    Who is he kidding? The man never could resist a treat. DeeAnn grinned.
    â€œIt’s great having Randy around. He insists on grinding his own coffee and using a French press. It makes such a difference,” Paige said, as she poured the detective a cup of the brew.
    â€œSo Randy, are you squared away with the sheriff?” Bryant asked.
    â€œYes, I told him everything I know. Exactly what happened.”
    â€œPamela closed the place