Bun in the Oven: The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag, #6 by Jennifer L Hart

Author:Jennifer L Hart
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Laundry hag, Misadventures, Jennifer L Hart, romantic mystery, cozy mystery, amature sleuths, women sleuths
Publisher: Jennifer L Hart
Published: 2017-05-08T16:00:00+00:00

MACKENZIE SHOWED UP just in time for dinner, a file in one hand and sniffing the air like a bloodhound. “Something smells good.”

“Peppered steak. The normal people can even have rice with it.” I grimaced as I stirred the pot. Freaking carbs. Dieting bit the big one.

“I guess that leaves Mom out,” Mac quipped from the kitchen table.

“Hey kid, I didn’t realize you were going to be here.” Mother wrapped an arm around her daughter before shucking her leather coat.

“Mac’s moving in,” Kenny said helpfully. “To keep an eye on us.”

Mac put a hand on his shoulder. “Just when the baby’s here.”

“And who’ll keep an eye on me?” Mackenzie raised a red eyebrow.

“You’ll have to rely on the mercy of strangers.” Mac said.

“You see this?” Mackenzie chucked a thumb at her offspring while addressing me. “You give them life and this is what you get back.”

“Well, it’s too late to turn back now.” My back ached from standing at the stove, I was tired and hungry and just wrung out like an old dish sponge. “Kenny, set the table.”

“It’s Josh’s turn,” Kenny protested.

Mac put a hand on his shoulder. “What did we decide about helping your Mom out?”

“Not to argue.” Kenny repeated. “I’ll go get Josh.”

“Nice try, mini P.I.” I shook my head. “They’re hopeless, but I appreciate the effort.”

“Where’s Neil?”

“He took Atlas for a drag around the block.” Walking the exuberant Great Dane wasn’t easy but given his dark mood, Neil might’ve been the one dragging Atlas down the street.

“Bleck, exercise. Bane of my existence. No, wait, that’s my mother.” Mackenzie helped herself to the pitcher of cucumber water.

“Tell me about it.” I gestured to the file in her hand. “What have you got there?”

“Everything you never wanted to know about Jamie Greer, sleaze bucket snake oil salesman extraordinaire.”

“You could have just emailed it to me.” Mackenzie lived and worked in East Boston, it was an hour and a half round trip for her to see us.

“Then I wouldn’t have gotten dinner. Besides, I was hoping you could get me in to see Sylvia.”

“Tonight?” I glanced at the clock. “You’re serious?”

She nodded. “One of the apartments in our building is opening up. I wanted to offer it to her, in case she didn’t want to go back...home.” She chucked a thumb next door.

“Really?” Mac asked. “Which apartment.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Did something happen to Nona. Or Grams?”

“We’ll talk about it later.” Mackenzie’s face was turning as red as her roots.

Mac stared at her for a beat. “No.”

“What?” Her mother feigned innocence, all big green eyes and phony sincerity.

“I’m missing something.” I removed the food from the stovetop and ladled it into serving bowls.

“Mom’s shacking up with the downstairs tenant. They’ve been on again off again for years.”

“It’s complicated.” Mackenzie said. “And we’ll talk about it later, Mac.”

“You’re not redoing my room, are you?” Mac asked. “What if I’m a spectacular failure with the job market? I might need to move back home.”

Mackenzie snatched a grape from the fruit bowl and popped it in her mouth.

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