Suzann Ledbetter - Hannah Garvey 03 - North of Clever by Suzann Ledbetter

Author:Suzann Ledbetter [Ledbetter, Suzann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery: Cozy - Senior Living Manager - Missouri
ISBN: 1551668483
Publisher: Mira Books
Published: 2001-12-08T06:00:00+00:00

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Chapter 10

Suspended in the fuzzy limbo between sleep and waking, Hannah wriggled backward to close the gap between her body and David’s big, strong, almost naked, warm one.

Oh, yeah. It’s so nice to have a man—

Grrntph.

One eyelid cracked open. A blast of sunlight slammed it shut. Grrmph? What did she have to do to get a “Good morning?” Buy the vowels?

Her arm slithered from under the covers. Thumb and forefinger in pinch position, she reached back in the vicinity of where David’s butt should be and—

Hannah twisted sideward. Soulful, chocolate-brown eyes brimming with unconditional love gazed into hers. Bed linens exploded in giant wads of white. “What in the hell are you doing in my bed?”

Malcolm sprang off the mattress in a horizontal half gainer. He rotated into a belly flop, kaboinged off the floor and ran from the room as though his fur were in flames.

Just watching him made Hannah’s head hurt. “Red, Red Wine” cranked up on her mental jukebox.

A hangover she could handle. A hangover with a Neil Diamond sound track was like getting the electric chair for jaywalking.

Taking extra care not to let her eyeballs bang around in their sockets, she noted the absence of a gunbelt slung from the corner of the sleigh bed’s headboard. Bathroom, unoccupied. No handset radio, loose change, pager, wallet or keys on the nightstand.

Duty had called.

A visual shift brought the alarm clock swimming into view. Giant red numerals informed her that it was 9:88.

Hmm. Something seemed amiss, but she wasn’t quite sure what. Then, before her squinted eyes, the numbers reconfigured to 7:33. She looked away and back again—7:34.

Yeah, well, too early was close enough.

She shuffled to the bathroom. Shuffled out a couple of minutes later. Shuffled on to the breakfast room’s French doors to let Malcolm out before his bladder broke, then into the kitchen.

Where there was coffee. A whole pot. Brewed and everything. Beside it, a clean mug and a bottle of extra-strength headache tablets anchored a paper napkin.

Wish I could have stayed to hold you awake, was written in a hybrid of block and cursive script. Love, David.

Tummy flutters ramped into full-body tingles. Unlike most of the population—herself included—David didn’t drop the L word indiscriminately. Hannah couldn’t recall him saying he loved a certain movie, a restaurant, his job, a particular song. Not even his candy-apple-red and chrome pickup truck.

Then again, she thought, pouring a cup of coffee, they had spent the night together. Abstinence notwithstanding, how else would he sign a morning-after note? Yours truly? Have A Nice Day with a happy face in the exclamation point?

Three aspirin were shaken from the bottle and chased with a glass of water. From what little she remembered before zonking into a wine-flavored coma, Professional Help Is As Close As the Phone might have been appropriate.

Had she really told him George Burns was God, or had she dreamed it?

The ceramic pelican with a scrubbie in its beak looked askance at her. “All right, so I’m a little manic this morning.

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