Hide nor Hair (A Jersey Girl Cozy Mystery Book 2) by Jo-Ann Lamon Reccoppa Page A

miserly ways. He had always been a bit on the frugal side as far as family finances went, and it was a trait the entire family had gotten used to and even joked about over the years. I knew Neil loved the kids as much as I did. But our bickering wasn’t helping Sara and Bobby feel particularly secure during these tough emotional times.
    “I have to stop the shrew stuff,” I told Ken. I tossed the pizza boxes in the trash, feeling close to tears. “I guess I’ll never forgive Neil, but all this squabbling has to end, or the kids will end up hating us both.”
    Ken came up behind me and wrapped his strong arms around me. I could feel myself letting go. How long had it been since I was engulfed in a man’s arms? The thrill I felt went far beyond the free pizza. It seemed as though I had been on my own for ages. Under the circumstances, the kids were great company. My parents had been nothing but supportive. In her own strange way, my sister, Kate, had been my champion, and Bevin Thompson was my rock. But Ken Rhodes’s arms were so comforting …
    I took a deep breath, refusing to cry. I straightened up and turned to face him. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him as hard as I could. “Thank you,” I said. “Thanks for being here. I hate all this up-in-the-air crap that comes with divorce. I hate being angry all the time …”
    His lips gently brushed my forehead. “It’s okay. It gets better. Why, a year from now …”
    “… I’ll be laughing about it? I don’t think so.”
    “It’ll be okay, Colleen. Things have a funny way of working out.”
    We broke contact, reluctantly on my part. There was work to be done and no time for romance or self-pity. I went to the sink and filled the glass pot to the top to make fresh coffee. “We’ll need some pretty strong stuff to keep us conscious tonight. I’m so full, all I feel like doing is taking a nap.”
    “Me too,” he agreed.
    I waited for the coffee to brew, then carried two steaming mugs to my cluttered desk in the den. Ken brought in a kitchen chair, so we could both read my story directly from the monitor. I pulled up the article and sat back. The gentle, caring Ken Rhodes turned into the editor Ken Rhodes in an instantaneous Dr. Jekyll-and-Mr. Hyde move. It didn’t take long for him to rip the story apart.
    “You can mention the shoe in the evidence bag,” he said, shaking his head. “Maybe change it to a sandal, which suggests it was a woman’s body.”
    “Everybody in town knows it was a woman,” I mumbled.
    “That doesn’t matter. You can drop some subtle hints about how the body may have reached its final destination, though make it clear that the cause of death is pending the medical examiner’s conclusions.”
    “Sure.” I hit the backspace key to wipe out the phrases I had so painstakingly written.
    “The rest of it looks okay.” He took a sip from his mug and grimaced. “You make lousy coffee.”
    “Flattery will get you nowhere. Is my vague description of the body okay, or does that have to go, too?”
    “ Severe traumatic injuries is okay; maybe a little redundant,” Ken said. “The part with the woman not being immediately identifiable is the right way to go.”
    I smiled. At least I had gotten something right.
    I saved the file and started an email to the newspaper so that Ken would have the story on hand the moment he needed it.
    “Don’t forget to attach the file,” he reminded me.
    I opened a list and searched for the file. Not only did all of the file names look unfamiliar, I couldn’t even remember what file name I had used to save the story.
    “For God’s sake, Colleen! No wonder you still print out your stories and bring them up to the office. Your computer files are a mess. You don’t even have a separate folder for your Town Crier stuff.”
    I gave Ken my very own patented stupid expression, which told him all he needed to know. “You have no idea at all how to do that, do