Read Flourless to Stop Him for Free Online

the meat sauce and ricotta filling. Not bad if I say so myself.
    “Too bad you don’t have any bread to go with this,” Grandma said around her bites of dinner. “Garlic bread and butter would be perfect with this meal.”
    “I have gluten-free breadsticks in the freezer.”
    “Well, why didn’t you heat them up?”
    “I’m on a diet,” I said. “You want me to start dating, then I need to get into fighting shape.” Things had gone a little soft since I returned to Oiltop and started my bakery. I hadn’t had a lot of time to devote to my health. It didn’t help that I had been working on developing new recipes for the holidays.
    “You might be on a diet, but I’m not.” Grandma scooped up another forkful of lasagna.
    “I’m not heating the breadsticks, Grandma,” I stated. “Neither one of us needs them.”
    Grandma frowned at me. “Fine. I prefer real bread anyway.”
    It was my turn to give Grandma the evil eye. She was better at ignoring me than I was at ignoring her. “What are we going to do about this murder?”
    “That’s the question,” Grandma said. “You have to investigate. We can’t trust Officer Emry to investigate his way out of his squad car.”
    “Officer Bright is good at his job.”
    “Officer Bright was in Tim’s class in school. Those two were huge rivals, if you don’t remember.”
    Okay, so I didn’t remember. High school was a blur of angst and drama. The last thing I paid attention to were the boys in Tim’s class. “I don’t remember, but even so, they’re both adults now.”
    Grandma frowned at me. “Apparently you’re not a good observer of men.”
    I cringed. “Guilty as charged.” I raised my hands in the air. “It’s why I shouldn’t date.”
    “Dating is a whole different story.” Grandma shrugged. “A woman your age should be out having fun. Not stuck in an old house with an old woman, discussing old rivalries.”
    I got up and gathered up the empty dishes. “So you came to eat my food and give me a hard time about my life?”
    “I came to see you.” Grandma was not bothered in the least by my words. “You were involved in another murder. I wanted to ensure you’re okay.”
    “I’m okay, Grandma.” I picked up the tray of empty dishes. “I’m sorry Candy beat you to the scoop on the death of a man at the Red Tile.”
    “I’m not worried about a little competition from that young woman.” Grandma stood as well and waddled out to the hall with me. “I’ve got something better than the police radio.”
    “What’s that?” I narrowed my eyes.
    “I’ve got the senior grapevine. Nothing better than a gaggle of retirees to keep you up-to-date on the comings and goings in a small town.”
    “Then you don’t need me to investigate.” I walked into the kitchen. The floor of the kitchen was patterned with black and white tiles. The cabinets were original to the house. Mom had painted them white at some point. The countertops were recycled glass in a soft mixture of colors that ended up blending to mostly gray. The backsplash was made up of black and white subway tiles. The pattern mirrored the floor.
    My bright pink stand mixer stood in its place of honor on the counter by the window. I remember doing dishes as a kid and spending an hour looking out that window to our fenced-in backyard.
    “I don’t need you to get a decent story.” Grandma leaned her considerable girth against my cream-painted wall. “But that doesn’t mean your brother Tim doesn’t need your help.”
    “If Tim needs my help, he’ll ask for it.” I rinsed out the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. “So far only Joan has called me.” I waved toward the phone and the currently blinking light letting me know I had voicemail.
    “Joan wants you to investigate?” Grandma frowned.
    “Joan wants me to bring cookies to Emma’s classroom for her birthday celebration at school.” I added soap to the dishwasher and started it.
    Aubrey trotted through the kitchen