Where's Hansel and Gretel's Gingerbread House?: A Gabby Grimm Fairy Tale Mystery #2 Read Online Free PDF Page A

picked up some pointers over the years about
construction. I just applied them to the gingerbread. Did you know
I even put in trusses?”
    “Really?” I laughed at the thought. “Gerhard
is going to love this.”
    My father, Gerhard Grimm, is a well-known
architectural designer. There is nothing that gets him excited more
than good construction.
    “And cross-bracing. The gingerbread house is
even based on the model of the carriage houses in Phase Two.”
     

Chapter Four --
     
    “You copied one of the buildings for your
development project?”
    “I did. My boss was thrilled,” she confided
as I pulled out the hose and returned it to the pump. I grabbed a
printed receipt.
    “Impressive. Want me to drive from here?” I
asked. I wondered how my sore derriere would fare in the driver’s
seat for the next two and a half hours. I’d have to risk it. There
was no way Annette was going to last through even a dusting of
snow. Nothing for me to do but take some Advil and suck it up.
Thank God we hadn’t drowned our sorrows in that bottle of wine. I
needed to be alert. Holding out my hand, I waited for the hand-off.
“Keys.”
    “Are you sure? You’re still in a lot of pain.
I don’t want you to....”
    “Nettie, I’m happy to drive the rest of the
way. You’re unfamiliar with the route, you hate driving in the
snow, and I’m a much better driver. Besides,” I teased. “I want to
get there before Christmas.”
    In the darkness, I could feel her relief. It
was in her tiny groan and the way she quickly thrust the keychain
into my waiting hand. I got into the driver’s seat and turned on
the engine as she got in beside me. Less than thirty seconds later,
I had pulled into a parking space in front of the Mobil station’s
all-night convenience store. I grabbed the Frist documents in one
hand as I climbed out of the passenger side, threw my purse over my
shoulder, and after shutting the door, I pushed the lock button on
the remote. Popping the trunk of the Corolla, I handed my purse to
Nettie and carefully examined the Christmas scene in front of
me.
    “Does this roof come off?” I wondered. “Can I
lift up the house?”
    “No, Gabby. Everything is cemented to the
board with royal icing.”
    “Shoot,” I moaned. And then I saw it, that
small window of opportunity. “What’s with the snow?”
    “What do you mean?” Annette hovered over my
shoulder. She pointed to the batting that covered the top of the
miniature winter landscape. “This stuff?”
    “Can I get into it without ruining
everything?”
    “Why?”
    “I want to hide the papers in there. Can I do
it?”
    “Maybe, if you roll up the documents.” She
got busy poking a small hole in the soft, cottony snow. I grabbed
an elastic hair band from my makeup case and rolled the documents
as tightly as I could. Carefully slipping the tube of papers
through the tiny hole in the batting, I maneuvered them into
position and they suddenly bolstered a nice little ledge of snow
behind the gingerbread house.
    “Gee, that looks good, Gabby. You’d never
even know they’re there.”
    “Except for the hole in the batting,” I
pointed out.
    “Not for long,” she grinned. She reached
around me and grabbed a plastic case. “My stash. Ah, here we go.
Thumbtacks.”
    In a matter of a few seconds, not only had
she fastened the tube of papers to the board, she had concealed the
opening under the batting. For all intents and purposes, this
gingerbread house was merely the quintessential holiday decoration,
to be enjoyed and admired. When she stood up again, I gave it my
approval. Glancing over my left shoulder, I could see that dark
sedan parked a good fifty yards away, sheltered by shadows. Where
was the driver?
    “Now, how about a quick trip to the ladies
room and a cup of coffee?” I suggested.
    There was a lone clerk behind the counter in
the small convenience store attached to the gas station. We nodded
to the young Asian woman on our way to the ladies