Read By Cook or by Crook (A Five-Ingredient Mystery) for Free Online Page B

isn’t on the bay.”
    “But the river and creek feed into it. Close enough.” Gunnar downshifted. “Why are you anxious to check on your cousin? Is she elderly?”
    “No, Monique’s a year older than me. She’s a second cousin, and since I don’t have sisters or first cousins, she stands in for them. I have to take good care of her.”
    He turned onto the peninsula road. “Her name sounds French.”
    “Her parents came from around here and moved to Canada before she was born. Monique grew up bilingual. Her mother came back to this area ten years ago to take care of a sick relative. Monique came with her, married a local man, and stayed.” Val chewed her fingernails. “Monique’s husband and kids are away now, and she’s not answering her phone.”
    “Maybe she went out and doesn’t have her cell phone or didn’t juice it up.”
    “I know, or she could have switched it off for a meeting or a photo shoot. On any other day, I wouldn’t worry if she didn’t return my calls.” Val took a deep breath. “Monique’s on the tennis team with me. Another woman on the team was found murdered this morn—” She broke off as the Miata drifted right. “Watch out!”
    The car edged off the pavement onto the shoulder.
    Gunnar steered back onto the road. “You said a tennis player was murdered?”
    “I did.” But unlike him, she’d emphasized the crime, not the sport. She peered sideways at him.
    He returned her look. “What’s the dead woman’s name?”
    “Nadia Westrin. You met her Sunday night when we played mixed doubles. Petite with short hair.”
    He drummed his fingers on the wheel. “Oh, yeah. The real estate agent. She offered to sell me a house two minutes after she met me. How was she killed?”
    “The police haven’t released that information yet.” A good answer, truthful and evasive at the same time. He’d probably ask more questions about the murder unless she changed the subject. “On the porch you talked about opening an accounting practice. Is that in the near future?”
    “Sooner than I expected. My great-aunt Gretchen died and left me some cash. When the inheritance comes through, I’ll have enough to quit my job and take some risks.”
    “Cool. We should all have a Great-Aunt Gretchen.”
    “You wouldn’t say that if you’d ever met Gretchen.” Gunnar gave Val a crooked smile and glanced at her crossed legs. “You told me you moved here a few months ago, but didn’t say where you lived before or what you did.”
    “I worked for a New York publisher, promoting their cookbooks. I did publicity for celebrity chefs.”
    “A good job for someone who’s into cooking.”
    “I was, but the experience turned me off pretentious gourmet cuisine. I decided to write my own cookbook with recipes that don’t require exotic ingredients and lots of prep. The job didn’t leave me any time to do that. I came home exhausted at night.” Val pointed to the cornfields flanking the road. “I missed serene sights like this. After a decade in the city, I burned out.”
    “I like fields of grain if they’re near large bodies of water. Where I grew up in the Midwest, the fields go on and on.” Gunnar slowed down and watched an osprey until it flew out of sight. “You have time to play singles this week?”
    “Sure.” Val was glad he’d be around for a few days. She wouldn’t mind seeing more of him and, judging by how often he looked at her bare legs, he wouldn’t mind seeing more of her either. “The café’s open for breakfast and lunch. After I close it at two, I usually hang around to clean up or prepare things for the next day. Do you want to play late in the afternoon?”
    “I’ll try to reserve a court for tomorrow.”
    “Maybe by then the police will have cleared out. Today they’re probably combing the club for evidence and murder suspects.”
    “The club? Why there?”
    Because of the weapon, which Val couldn’t mention. She cracked open the car window and let in a