The Pajama Affair Read Online Free PDF Page B

research, even if it did turn out to be an inspection code.
    Somehow after the dishes were done Liza convinced Marion to go for a run with her. Rather, Liza ran while Marion walked a few steps and then bent over to staunch a stitch in her side. Liza knew better than to lecture her about her poor physical condition, but it worried her nonetheless. Should she really be winded by the time they reached the mailbox?
    “Leave me,” Marion said dramatically. She paused to lean against Liza’s car, the car that was parked directly in front of her house.
    “Oh come on,” Liza said impatiently. She grasped Marion ’s wrist to urge her forward. “You don’t even have to walk fast. I’ll jog in place beside you, all right?”
    “All right,” Marion agreed reluctantly. “But I don’t see how you can run on a full stomach.”
    “A full stomach?” Liza echoed. “We ate an hour ago.”
    “You’re right. I’m starving. Let’s go back and eat some more.”
    Liza laughed. “Stop being funny. I can’t run and laugh.”
    “Why didn’t you tell me that was the key to making you stop?” Marion said. She proceeded to tell Liza a story about one of the library patrons that was so far-fetched Liza was sure she had made it up. But it had the desired effect. Now Liza was the one bent over in the street panting for breath and clutching a stitch in her side.
    “Can I go now?” Marion asked.
    Liza nodded and waved her away. When she fully regained lung capacity after her convulsive laughter, she set off again and ran for an hour to make up for missing the previous day. She ducked her head in the house to yell goodbye, but didn’t go all the way in because she was wet with sweat. All she wanted now was a nice, hot shower, but when she arrived home her key once again stuck in the lock. Like yesterday she looked down and noticed the floor mat was askew. It couldn’t have been the mailman, not on a Sunday.
    When she opened the door, she knew someone was in her house. Maybe it was intuition that made her skin prickle, or maybe it was the sound of a baseball game coming from the living room. She frowned and cocked her head. A baseball game? What sort of burglar stays to watch television?
    “Hey, Babe.”
    Dirk came from the kitchen behind her. She screamed and threw her keys in the air. He studied her with an amused smirk.
    “Scared you, didn’t I?”
    “No, I’ve decided that should be our new, standard greeting and I was just testing it out.” She bent to retrieve her keys and backed away from him when she straightened and saw him advancing on her. She held up a hand. “I’m all sweaty.”
    He kept advancing, gathering her in a tight squeeze when he reached her. “Why are you all sweaty?”
    “I went running with Marion .”
    “ Marion ran? Was someone chasing her with a loaded weapon?”
    She laughed. “Well, actually Marion walked twenty feet with me and then I ran alone.”
    “That sounds more like what I imagined.” He frowned as he spoke.
    “What?”
    “Why don’t you ever run with me?”
    “I run like a girl.” She ran for exercise and not because she was good at it. Dirk was an athlete. The thought of him seeing her herky-jerky panting stride was embarrassing.
    “You are a girl, last time I checked. I could check again if you want.” He leaned down to kiss her and she stood on her toes to reach him, but then broke off when she caught a whiff of her own stench.
    “I’m going to grab a shower. Can you stay? I’ll cook.” She wasn’t above bribing him with food.
    He shook his head. To his credit he looked reluctant. “I’m meeting with Sal to talk business.”
    Sal was his cousin, older by five years, and a full partner in their family’s car dealership. It was a large business, one of the largest in the state, and required constant attention, or so it seemed.
    “Oh.” She rocked back on her heels in disappointment. “What are you doing here?”
    He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Did you or did you