Read Manic in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Christmas River Cozy Book 6) for Free Online Page B

rest of the day off? We can play hooky, go up to Sparks Lake. Lie down and watch the clouds drift by. Throw a couple of lines in the water for good measure. What do you say?”
    “I say there’s nothing I’d rather do on earth than—”
    “Uh, miss, we’ve got a lot of folks asking about that Four Berry Pi—”
    I heard Tobias’s voice as he poked his head through the dividing door. He was looking down at the ground, not meeting my eyes.
    He cleared his throat.
    “Uh, sorry if I interrupted something, miss,” he said.
    “You didn’t interrupt, Tobias,” I said. “And thanks for letting me know. You can tell them there’s another batch cooling as we speak, and that it’ll be about fifteen minutes.”
    “Sure thing,” he said, nodding and scurrying back to the front.
    I looked back at Daniel. He was trying to hide it, but there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes.
    “Don’t suppose those pies will take care of themselves,” he said, letting me go.
    I sighed.
    “Don’t suppose they will.”
    He reached for his hat, which he’d placed on the counter.
    “Then I guess I should get going myself,” he said. “Though you know I don’t want to.”
    He started heading for the door, but I grabbed his hand and pulled him back to me before he could get much farther.
    “Don’t go looking so glum,” I said. “Maybe after the game, you can show me more of those old dude moves.”
    I kissed him lightly on the lips, then pushed him toward the door.
    “It’s a date,” he said, winking back at me.
    I watched as my husband went out the back, closing the door behind him. Then I listened as his boots hit the deck and the sound of his steps faded away.
    I never could stay very upset for long when Daniel Brightman was around. He always had a way of talking me out of it.
    I hoped the rest of the day would go by fast.
     

 
    Chapter 10
     
    Tobias was wrong about us selling out by 2 p.m.
    By 1 o’clock that day, we were fresh out of every slice of Orange Creamsicle, Firecracker Cherry, Four Berry, Blueberry Cinnamon, Raspberry Cookie, Whiskey Apple, Pumpkin Pecan, Blueberry Peach, Lemon Gingersnap, Moundful Marionberry, Banana Mocha Pudding, Chocolate Hazelnut, and Strawberry Rhubarb pie in the joint. We’d been cleaned out completely, and there were still folks we had to turn away. Folks who had been standing in line for over an hour, and who were none too pleased about being told that there was no pie for them.
    When I went out and announced the bad news and apologized, there had been a round of groans. One tourist who had been fanning herself with a haphazardly-made paper fan let out a long sigh up into the air like the world had just ended, and gave me a sour, nasty look. Then she turned on her heels and stomped out of the dining room like a tantrum-throwing toddler.
    No wonder I was having nightmares. The thought that the crowd might grab torches and pitchforks at any moment and come after me didn’t seem all that farfetched on a day like today.
    The simple fact was that I was in dire straits. The demand for my pies had reached levels that a three-person staff couldn’t handle. I was desperately in need of an employee. And maybe more than one.
    I resolved to place an ad with the newspaper first thing on Monday.
    I spent the rest of the afternoon preparing as much as I could for the day ahead, prebaking shells and making fillings, trying to do what I could to prepare for the onslaught of customers set to storm my shop this Fourth of July.
    Then I grabbed one of my freshly-baked Orange Creamsicle pies and took it with me as I climbed into my black Escape. I headed down Main Street and over to the red house at the end of Pine Haven Lane on Christmas River’s north side.
    I pulled up in the driveway, got out of the car, and smiled.
    From the street, I could hear the faint sound of baby Laila crying.
     

 
    Chapter 11
     
    “Oh my God, Cin!” she gasped, almost before even opening the door. “I heard