The Ginseng Conspiracy (A Kay Driscoll Mystery) Read Online Free PDF Page B

alley. As the men dragged the professor over to it, they heard noises. Looking over they saw Uncle Jimi, a bartender from The Starlite Lounge next door, over by the dumpster.
    “It's only Uncle Jimi. No one to be concerned about.”
    * * * *
    It was dark outside by the time Phil and I left Jo's. I looked down the alley behind the bar as we passed by. I saw Jeff and someone else, who I couldn’t make out, leaning against the building, smoking. A sweet, pungent smell perfumed the brisk air. I pulled up the collar on my jacket. On the way home, Phil and I enjoyed all of the grinning and scowling Jack-O’-Lanterns that lit up so many of the porches we passed. When we arrived home, we had a piece of almond cake from Marissa’s for dessert. Later, we cuddled up on the sofa to watch a mystery movie. What a perfect end to a perfect day.

Chapter Three
     
    Saturday, October 29
     
    While Phil slept in on Saturday morning, I woke up and baked a breakfast strata with asparagus, sausage, and Fontina cheese that I had put together yesterday. I was starting to grill the fruit on the stove when Phil came downstairs.
    “Good morning, hon.” Phil sauntered into the kitchen. “How did you sleep?” His arms encircled me from behind, and he kissed the side of my neck.
    “Pretty good... for as much as you'd let me,” I said with a wink.
    “Something smells good in here. You smell good.” His nose nuzzled my hair.
    “I'm trying out a new recipe.” As I turned around our lips met. He started to pull on the ties of my robe.
    “Phil, later. I have to watch the fruit. It'll burn.”
    Phil gave me a c'est la vie smile. “I have to go into the guitar lab today,” he said, as he sat down at the table to look at his archtop guitar templates. “I don't have all the tools here, And the project's due on Monday.”
    “Everything will be done in a few minutes. I hope you're hungry.”
    Later in the morning, after a satisfying breakfast and a bit of exercise, Phil got ready to leave for school.
    “Please try to get back in time for the Halloween Ball.”
    “Don't worry. I'll be home in plenty of time. Just in case, I'm bringing along my costume.”
    After Phil left, I finished washing up the dishes, took a shower, and called Deirdre. Her voice sounded groggy.
    “Deirdre, I’m so sorry…did I wake you?”
    “No, no, I was meditating.”
    “I'm going to Pete Rudd’s Pumpkin Fest in a little while to pick out my pumpkins. I thought you might want to come along, but if you want to go back to your… I'm riding my bike over.”
    “Sure, it’s a beautiful day for a bike ride.”
    “The farm's about ten miles away. Should be a good ride.”
    “Ready in five minutes.”
    I put on my trainers, a light jacket, and waited for Deirdre outside.
    A few minutes later, Deirdre came out of her garage with her bicycle in tow, and I apologized again. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t meant to interrupt…”
    “It’s okay. I feel renewed and quite awake. I had this incredible flute music on…really inspirational. You might want to try it sometime.”
    Often Deirdre's comments were so far out, I never knew how to respond and sort of ended up just blowing them off. She didn’t seem to mind and maybe was even used to it. Even though we each tended to talk in our own trains of thought, we still got along great.
    “Marissa mentioned the Pumpkin Fest on Thursday when Margaret and I met at the patisserie. I wonder if Marissa took the day off today to help? She started seeing Pete Rudd just after we moved here.”
    “Pete's aura is one of the brightest I have seen. Must be spiritually advanced. I'd love to spend more time with him.”
    We reached the end of town. “Aren’t the trees intense? I am so in the moment!” Deirdre said.
    The sun was bright and the trees brilliant, with colorful leaves fluttering down onto the road. As we approached Pete Rudd’s farm, parked cars lined both sides of the road for a quarter of a mile. I could hear music coming