Murder in the Milk Case by Spyglass Lane Mysteries

who can say something like that and still sound nice. In the silence that followed, I heard her breathing. I wondered if she was going to offer a bribe of the intimate sort to get the unit open, in which case I would be obligated to find her and rip out her hair.
    “Please, Maxwell. Just take me into the unit. You can stand there. I only need a couple teeny little papers. Nothing big. I’ll make it worth your while.”
    “Worth your while” was open to interpretation. Unfortunately, it wasn’t blatant enough to excuse any ripping or tearing.
    Max met my gaze and tapped his fingers harder on the desk. “I’m sorry, Stefanie. I have to obey the law.”
    The Widow Jenkins’s sweetness slipped. “This is an inconvenience, you know.”
    Max stayed right on the party line. “I understand you’re inconvenienced. I want to open it for you and will as soon as I can.”
    She sniffed. “I guess that will have to do.”
    “I’m sorry,” Max said. “If there’s anything else we can do for you, please let us know.”
    I hung up after he did and put my phone on the floor. He stared at me with a smirk on his lips.
    I hopped up, walked over to him with exaggerated swings of my hips, and leaned against the edge of his desk in my best imitation of a femme fatale. “Sugar, just do what I want, and I’ll make it worth your while.” My imitation sounded surprisingly like her.
    Max grinned and pulled me close. “You really dislike Steffie.”
    I ran my finger over his lips. “Dislike? No. It’s nothing personal. I just don’t like her going on and on about how good you are. Besides, I have a bad feeling about her.”
    He had the nerve to laugh. “You’re adorable.”
    “Chauvinist,” I said.
    “Guilty as charged.” Max pulled me into his lap. “You have nothing to worry about. And I guess you figured out what’s going on. She’s even been by the office a couple of times. She needs to get into a storage unit that Jim Bob rented a year ago, but her name isn’t on the contract.”
    “I guess we can’t, either, can we?” I glanced at him hopefully, wishing we could take one little look.
    Max kissed me lightly. “Curious, aren’t you? But you’re right. I won’t touch it at this point until everything is settled. It’s just too bad people don’t think about things like emergency access in case of injury or death when they rent units.”
    Of all the negative character traits I’d heard about Jim Bob, stupidity wasn’t one of them. I wondered if he’d left Stefanie off the contract on purpose.

Chapter Eight

    You’re going to call the doctor today, right?” Max asked as he buttoned his shirt in the mirror.
    “I’ll be fine, Max.” I had spent the first few minutes out of bed that morning being sick. Now I was trying to figure out what to wear.
    He turned around to face me and gave me a once-over. “Trish, you haven’t been feeling well for days.”
    I finally decided on nice jeans and a pink shirt. “I’m just overwrought. It’s got to be nerves. Stop worrying.” Of course, that’s what happens when you keep secrets and guilt eats you from the inside out. I yanked on the shirt.
    He blinked, and his mouth twitched. “Touchy, aren’t you?”
    “Well, I’m just tired of everyone telling me that I don’t look well. It makes me feel flabby and white, like my mother’s doughnut dough.” I adjusted my blouse collar and glared at him. “So stop thinking that.”
    He grinned. “I wasn’t thinking that.”
    I put my hands on my hips. “Well, then, what were you thinking?”
    He walked around the bed. “Actually, I was reflecting on how good you look.”
    “What?”
    His eyes had that little gleam in them. “Max, we have a meeting and—”
    I can’t talk and kiss. And once again, my guilty conscience was bugging me, which was distressing because kissing Max is one of the joys of my life. However, pounding at our bedroom door distracted both of us.
    “Mom!” Charlie shouted. “I can’t find