Read Crime Rib (Food Lovers' Village) for Free Online Page B

huddled on the edge of the road, he asked for my keys so he could move my Subaru to block access from the highway and town.
    “How do you know to do that?”
    He shrugged, his narrow face placid. He still wore chef’s duds, the black not showing the day’s work like the usual whites. “From over there,” he said.
Iraq.
In the Army, a cook wasn’t just a cook. He was a soldier first and last. What had Kyle experienced over there?
    In three minutes that might have been thirty, flashing lights pierced the night as the sheriff’s deputies and ambulance crew arrived. I heard Detective Kim Caldwell, Jewel Bay’s resident deputy, barking orders. Heard her footsteps approach and stop. Almost heard her thinking,
What is it about the Murphys and hit-and-runs?
Squeezed my eyes and opened them to meet her gaze.
    She’d crouched in front of me, and now she touched my bare arm. “Erin? It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”
    Like heck it would. I’d only come down here to give Stacia a book. And now—I closed my eyes again, hoping that would stop the tears.
    Heavy steps approached. “Check her for shock.” Kim’s voice seemed a long way off.
    “No. No, I’m okay.” I tried to stand. It didn’t work. “I’m just stiff. It’s cold out here.” That sounded stupid. It had to be seventy-five degrees. The EMT knelt and shone one of those medical light-thingies in my eyes. I blinked and tried to pull away, but he was a burly man and he kept a firm grip on my upper arm.
    Kim and another EMT crouched by Stacia’s body. The EMT shook her head. Kim bowed hers. As they rose, Kim waved to a uniformed deputy carrying a big camera with a flash.
    My EMT insisted on helping me stand. Kyle was explaining to Kim what he’d done, what I’d said. She eyed her cousin warily. The benefits to a cop of living in a small town can also be a detriment. Especially for a cop living in the town she grew up in.
    “Good thinking,” she finally told him. “We’ll let the ME say for certain, but a hit-and-run is a good probability. Sure wish one of you had seen the vehicle.” I noticed then that several cars had stopped behind Kyle’s makeshift blockade. It would be hours before the scene was cleared. I suddenly had an overpowering urge to be
home.
On my couch, with my cat and a blankie. And a bottle of something strong.
    The EMTs popped a gurney open and loaded Stacia’s body, in the tucked position in which she’d fallen. They barely had to lift a finger—small in life, she’d gotten even smaller in death.
    Kim turned to Kyle, who’d perched next to me on the back of the second ambulance. The one without a dead woman inside. “Tell me again what you were doing here this time of night,” she demanded.
    “I told you, Kim. I worked late and was headed home. This is a busy week. The Lodge is full, plus the Grill-off.” Impatience edged his words.
    My vision was coming back into focus. I’d rarely seen Kim in anything other than detective garb—dark jackets and pants, usually matching—or jeans and riding boots. She must have been hanging out at home, a cottage by the bay about half a mile north of here. Her short blond hair was tousled. Black leggings left several inches of skin showing above sockless feet stuffed into silver and purple running shoes. The effect emphasized her long legs and slender build—and demolished the image of professional cool she worked so hard at.
    At least she’d grabbed her gun belt before she ran out the door. It peeked out beneath the hem of her purple fleece hoodie.
    “If you say so,” she said curtly. “We need to get you home, Erin. A deputy will drive you. We’ll get your car to you later.”
    After they checked it over for any damage and ruled me out. I’d learned a few things about hit-and-run accidents, all those years ago when my father was killed. The deputies had already hauled out portable floodlights. They’d be searching for skid marks, gouges in the road, broken glass, chips of