A Slice of Murder by Chris Cavender

Author:Chris Cavender
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2009-03-26T16:00:00+00:00

When I woke up the next morning, Maddy was still asleep. I could afford to give her another twenty minutes while I made us both breakfast. It wasn’t as fancy as the waffles she’d fed me recently, but my pancakes were still pretty good. As I waited for the griddle to heat up after mixing the batter, I dug into my purse and got out Bob Pickering’s telephone number. He didn’t officially open until eight, but I knew he was always there by seven, so I decided to schedule my car appointment early.

“Hey, Bob, it’s Eleanor Swift.”

“Hi yourself, Eleanor.” He paused, then said, “There’s nothing wrong with that window, is there? Sometimes those tracks are tricky. If it won’t roll down, bring it by and I’ll have another go at it.”

“That’s not it.” I took a deep breath, then said, “I need a new one.”

“Now just you hang on there a second, Eleanor. I said I could fix it, and I meant it. It won’t take me ten minutes, and you don’t even have to come by the shop. I’ll swing by your place and have it done in a heartbeat.”

“There’s nothing to adjust,” I said. “The window shattered into a thousand little pieces.”

“It fell out? You’re kidding me. I don’t see how that could happen.”

“That’s because it didn’t,” I said as I saw the preheat light go off on the griddle. I cradled the telephone between my chin and my shoulder, then poured some batter rounds onto the matted black Teflon surface. “Somebody took a shot at me last night.”

“Are you okay? What’s gotten into this town?”

“I’m fine, and so is Chief Hurley.”

“What’s he got to do with this? You two weren’t out dallying around, were you?”

I didn’t even try to bite back my laughter. “When you hear pigs flying overhead and there’s an ice hockey team in Hades, look for the two of us out on the town together. He was doing me a favor. I got a suspicious delivery call, and I wanted someone else there. We got to the address, and somebody shot out the window.”

“Are both front windows gone?” he asked as I noticed that tiny bubbles were forming in the battered rounds. I slid my spatula under one, flipped it, then did its mates.

“No, just the driver’s side. I hate to ask, but is there any way you can fix it today? I really need my car.”

He paused, and I heard pages flipping. Finally, Bob said, “Eleanor, maybe we should make a standing appointment every day. I’m sure I can get you a better deal on windows if I buy them in bulk.”

“I don’t plan on making a habit of this,” I said. “Can you help me out?”

“I can probably squeeze you in. Where’s your car now?”

“I have no idea,” I said as I removed the pancakes and dropped more batter onto the griddle. “You’ll have to call the police station.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. It might not be a bad idea if you tried to keep a lower profile than you’ve been doing lately.

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