“There you are!” Grizzy stepped into view, her apron streaked with ketchup, a smear of mustard on her cheek. “Come quick. There’s been an emergency.”
“Condiment related?” I asked, unable to keep my lips from bending into a smile.
“What does it look like?” Griz paused. “Wait a minute. What are you so happy about?”
“Nothing,” I said, and laughed. “Nothing at all.”
Perhaps, living in Sleepy Creek wasn’t such a bad thing after all. Sure, there were murderers, and, potentially, the remnants of a disbanded gang of mobsters were on my tail, and Curly Fries occasionally tried to suffocate me in my sleep, but it had its good points.
The burgers, the friends, the funny times, and, of course, the handsome detective.
I followed Grizzy back to the stall, my stomach bubbling with excitement for what tomorrow would bring.
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Preview of Book 4: The Breakfast Burger Murder
Available for Preorder
I had never been big on celebrating birthdays, but I could get used to this.
Breakfast in bed with an Agatha Christie novel, and the pet kitty of the house, Curly Fries, locked out of my room while I enjoyed this moment on my own. It was the most peaceful I’d ever been in Sleepy Creek, and it was definitely the best birthday I’d had.
I hummed and cut into the Breakfast Burger Grizzy had served me this morning. The runny yolk oozed and mingled beautifully with the juicy hamburger patty. The tomatoes were a ripe red, fresh and ever so slightly sweet. The bun had been toasted to perfection and was dotted with sesame seeds.
Overall, it was about the best meal I could have asked for.
I took a bite off the end of my fork and chewed, smiling to myself as I turned another page in the paperback.
The vicar had found the dead body of the most hated guy in the town. A classic, the first in the Miss Marple series and my favorite book.
A knock rattled at my bedroom door, and Grizzy opened it and slipped inside. “Happy birthday!” she said, for the fifth time this morning. “Have I mentioned how happy I am you’re still here?”
“Thank you,” I said, and put my book down, carefully marking my place. “Griz, you didn’t have to go through all this trouble for me. I—”
Grizzy whipped out a package from behind her back and held it out. It was small, wrapped in golden paper with a big cream bow on top.
“Wow, Griz, you really didn’t have to.” I couldn’t remember the last time someone had gotten me a gift. My throat grew tight. “Really. This is too much. Breakfast and a gift?”
“Come on. Just open it.” She walked it over to me, and Curly Fries slipped through the crack between the door and jamb. Of course, the cat would take her opportunity to taunt me on my birthday. It wasn’t enough that I was officially one year past thirty.
“Thank you.” I took the present and tore the wrap off. I lifted up a book, admiring its glossy cover. “Murder on the Orient Express,” I said.
“I figured it was time you retired that worn out copy of Miss Marple and move onto Poirot.”
“Griz, this is awesome.”
She came over and gave me a hug. I squeezed her back.
“I’m spoiled today. I’ve never been treated like this before in my life. Not since my mom passed.”
“Chris, that makes me kind of sad. Everyone should be treated well on their birthday. Even if—no! No, no, no, Curly, you know you’re not allowed in here. No burgers for you.”
“It’s fine,” I said.
Grizzy looked at me like I’d grown an extra head. “What do you mean it’s fine? You hate it when she stares at you.”
“She can stay for now.”
“Oh. Oh, all right, your funeral,” Griz said, and laughed at my expression. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
It wasn’t easy to take any jokes about death or funerals lightly nowadays. Sleepy Creek had seen its fair share of murders over the course of the last month. Just last week, I’d fallen into another investigation, one that might have involved the very same people who had murdered my mother years ago.
“Christie?”
“Huh? Sorry. I was just thinking.” I often thought of my mom at times like these. My birthday, especially. I wished she was here to celebrate with me. She’d have loved this burger.
“I’ve got to get to the Burger Bar,” Griz said. “But you enjoy your day off. Don’t let Curly irritate you too much.”
“Nothing can bother me today,” I said.
Griz hopped up, dusted off her blue jeans, checked that her uniform shirt with its Burger Bar logo on the breast pocket was straight, then hurried from the room.
Curly took her opportunity. She leaped onto the bed and sat her fluffy butt down. She didn’t flick her tail or meow, but stared at me, those yellow eyes all-seeing.
“Has anybody ever told you, you’ve got a face only a mother could love?” I asked, as I cut another piece of my burger. I shed the meat of its bun and egg, then speared the bit of grilled patty on the end of my fork. “But, since it’s my birthday, why not?” I held out the fork to her.
Curly erupted into food purrs and came over. She rubbed the side of her face against my hand, then licked the burger. She took it off the fork with her teeth, dropped it onto my frilly pink duvet cover, and set to work feasting.
I would’ve been irritated if I hadn’t thought the meat stain actually improved the duvet set. “There,” I said. “Now, you get a birthday gift from me on my birthday.” I flipped the paperback over in my hand and read the blurb as I spoke. “And your birthday gift to me can be not sleeping on my head tonight. Or leaving anymore mice in my shoes. Deal?”
She didn’t look up.
A bang rang out downstairs.
“What the...?” I shifted my breakfast tray aside.
Thudding steps ascended the stairs, and my heart did a flip, turn and a double-dip. Spiders? I hopped out of bed and positioned myself behind the door.
It flew open and banged into my nose.
“Christie!” Grizzy called.
“Ow.” I lifted my hand and covered my face. “Ow, ow, ow, what was that for?”
“Hey, wait, why are you behind the door?”
“Because I thought you were—”
My friend grabbed my wrist and pulled me back to the bed then forced me onto it. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “You need to get dressed, now.”
“What?”
Grizzy stormed to my dresser drawers and ripped them open. She grabbed an armful of clothing, marched back over to me and threw it in my lap. “Quickly. We’ve got to go.”
“What? Where?”
Even Curly was shocked. She’d stopped eating long enough to meow balefully at Griselda.
“The hospital.”
“Why?”
“Because I just got a call from Vee as I was on my way out the door. Nelly Boggs has been attacked. And her mother has been… well, it’s not looking good.”
“What?” I leaped up from the bed and showered the floor in clothing and underwear. “Please tell me you’re kidding.” Nelly was a sweetheart who’d done nothing but spread good will since I’d first met her. The florist. Who would attack her and why?
“I’m not kidding,” she said. “Come on. We’ve got to meet Missi and Vee there in five minutes.” A
nd then Grizzy was out of my room again, the door slamming shut behind her.
An attack on Nelly? And her mother was, what, dead?
Not again.
I dressed fast then rushed out of the room and down to Grizzy’s waiting Kia, the sinking feeling in my gut back for the fourth time since I’d moved to town.
Available for Preorder
The Chicken Burger Murder Page 11