Fleeced at Yappy Hour Sneak Peek ~ Chapter 2 pt.1
From Fleeced at Yappy Hour
Chapter Two Part One…
BANG!
The sound of something big and clunky slammed into Yolanda’s front door as I lifted my hand to knock.
I was almost certain she and Gottlieb had gotten into a fight, or maybe even broken up.
Why else would she be so angry?
“Yo!” I called out, banging my fist against the door. “What’s going on in there?”
A breathless, slightly sweaty Yolanda yanked open the front door. Her usually perfectly coiffed blonde hair was completely out of place, with fly-aways soaringwilly-nilly through the air.
“Hi,” she said, her blue eyes wide. “What are you doing here?”
“Dinner,” I explained, lifting the takeaway bag filled with a delicious burger and fries. The steam wafted from the top, spiraling through the air and up into Yolanda’s nostrils. She sucked in a deep breath, closing her eyes for a brief moment of ecstasy before they snapped open once again.
“Well, don’t just stand there, come in!” She beckoned me into the apartment as if she’d already asked me to do it twice.
“Oh, goodness no!” A loud slam echoed behind us. Yolanda’s eyes popped open wide, and I could see her hesitate, almost ready to close the door on the poor schmuck behind us.
I, however, wasn’t able to do that since something solid and round tumbled into the back of my ankle. Looking down, I saw a signed baseball sitting there. I picked it up and turned to find a handsome, clean-shaven man with sparkling gray eyes and the kind of haircut that looks simple but probably costs a couple of hundred dollars. He stood in front of me with his hand out.
“Thanks,” he said, taking the ball, though I hadn’t offered it back yet. “I shouldn’t have told the movers they could leave the boxes in the truck. I’m a little too clumsy, it seems.”
I glanced over at Yolanda, who wasn’t the slightest bit taken with the handsome stranger. Instead, she busied herself sniffing at the burgers and feeding Beepo a couple of warm fries.
“Don’t worry about it,” I shrugged, noting the moving boxes piled at the bottom of the stairs of the neighboring bungalow. “Moving in?”
“Yeah.” He nodded toward the cottage next to Yolanda’s on the right. “And I’ve got a lot of unpacking to do. Thanks for grabbing my ball.”
And just like that, he swept past me, baseball and box in hand, without so much as another glance my way.
“Who was that?” Yolanda asked as I closed the door to her house.
“I’m not actually sure,” I replied, glancing curiously out the window as the stranger grabbed another box and made his way diligently up the stairs. It was late for someone to be moving in, even if it was still summer and there was a little bit of light left. “He wasn’t all that interested in a conversation.”
GRAB YOUR COPY OF YAPPY HOUR HERE!!“Just as well. Hot guys like that never have much to say, anyways. This darn carpet!” Yolanda said.
I pulled myself away from spying at the window and turned to find Yolanda, on her hands and knees with a rag towel, scrubbing at a spot on the throw rug that looked just as clean as the rest of it. Beepo had already busied himself in the plastic bag, somehow managing to find the plain burger patty Gus had cooked up just for him.
It was then that I noticed Yolanda’s cottage was suspiciously empty. Normally, her shelves were lined with photographs of her and her friends, little trinkets she’d picked up at various local shops and markets, and expensive doggie items that Beepo never got any use out of, mostly because they spent all their time on display.
“Hey, Yo, what happened to all your stuff?” I asked curiously.
“What do you mean?” The spot held her attention better than I ever could.
“The golden Beepo statue,” I explained, pointing at her marble coffee table. “And the silver-framed photo of you and the Roundup Crew. Where’d it all go?”
Yolanda glanced up and shrugged as if the sudden disappearance of her most prized belongings was no big deal. “I put them away.”
“You… put them away?” I demanded in disbelief.
“Yeah,” she replied but didn’t add any explanation.
Seeing I wasn’t going to get anywhere while that darn spot was holding her attention like a stray cat would hold Beepo’s, I marched over and tore the rag from her hands.
“Hey!” she said in disbelief.
“You’ll get this back when you answer my questions,” I informed her.
“Maggie, I only have a day to get this place in tip-top shape, okay?” She explained in exasperation.
Yolanda got up and marched into the kitchen, not letting the disappearance of her rag faze her for a moment. She hauled a grocery bag filled with food onto the counter and started putting things away in the cupboard.
“Dried snap peas?” I muttered in disgust, holding out a bag for her. “Since when do you eat this stuff?”
“I don’t,” she replied.
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Diana Orgain is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Maternal Instincts Mystery Series, Love or Money Mystery series, and The Roundup Crew Mysteries. Diana is also the New York Times Bestselling co-author of the Scrapbooking Mystery Series with Laura Childs. To keep up to date with the latest releases visit Diana at www.dianaorgain.com
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