The Roxy Reinhardt Mysteries: Books 1-3 (The Roxy Reinhardt Series Boxset) by Alison Golden & Honey Broussard

Author:Alison Golden & Honey Broussard
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2020-03-28T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

“ROXY REINHARDT, THE manager of the Funky Cat Inn, formerly a call center operator with Modal Appliances, Inc. My name is Mariah Morales, KQNR-20 Nightly News.” The woman assumed an expression of concern. “Tell me, Roxy, a murder was previously connected to your establishment when owned by Evangeline Smith. How do you explain this second death? A poisoning at that.” She shoved the microphone in Roxy’s face, awaiting answers to her questions, and gestured urgently toward a man with a camera. “Come on, Sheldon!” Morales hissed.

Roxy felt a huge lump rise in her throat. The microphone terrified her, and she felt adrenaline shoot through her body as, like a cornered animal, she looked for an escape route. “Sorry, I can’t say anything,” she gasped. A car passed and seeing Morales’ microphone, the driver honked the car’s horn loudly. The sound startled the reporter and for a second she took her eyes off Roxy. Seizing her opportunity, Roxy fled, hoping Mariah couldn’t follow in her stiletto heels.

Propelled by a speed that she didn’t know she possessed, Roxy flew down side streets and across sidewalks. People scattered to let her through. Shame burned in Roxy’s pink cheeks, but her feet drove her forward and away from Mariah Morales and her menacing microphone. Why, oh why hadn’t she been content living her quiet little life? Why had she chosen to live bigger? Why couldn’t she have enjoyed the total obscurity of being a call center operator?

By the time she exploded through Sam’s doorway, Roxy was angry with herself, with the world, and especially with Mariah Morales. She found Sam at the front desk, quietly doing some paperwork. He raised his head in surprise when she shot through the door.

“I’m so sick of this!” she burst out.

Sam laughed a little. “Hello to you too, Roxy.”

“Sorry,” she said, glaring at him. She looked back to see if Mariah and her cameraman Sheldon had followed her. They had. She could see Morales tottering on her high heels up the street, Sheldon jogging beside her.

“Help! The press. They’re following me.”

“Here.” Sam parted a rack of shirts each draped in plastic. “Behind there. Be still. Don’t make a noise.”

Roxy slipped in between the shirts, and Sam let them fall so that they obscured her.

Mariah pushed open the door to the laundry and said, “Can I just…?”

“I’m sorry, no, you can’t,” Sam said walking up to her.

“But…”

“This is private property, and I ask that you remove yourselves immediately.”

Mariah stretched her red lips into an especially beguiling smile. “I can assure you, sir, that we…”

“No,” Sam said firmly, not swayed by her feminine wiles, attractive as they were. “Please leave right now. That is all. You are trespassing.”

Mariah’s expression quickly changed into a scowl. “Whatever.” She flounced out, carelessly allowing the door to close on Sheldon who scurried behind her, the big camera he carried on his shoulder weighing him down.

Sam locked the door behind them. “You can come out now, Roxy.” There was a rustle of plastic as the shirts parted and Roxy appeared, red-faced and windswept.

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