Pies & Peril by Janel Gradowski

color of their trash bins?
    " It could just be a stupid way to keep me from competing in the pie contest. Somebody who really wants to win the pie contest thought they had taken care of their biggest rival by killing Mandy Jo. Then they went to the meeting and realized I was also competing in the contest. Tossing a note in my car was simpler than committing double homicide." She poured herself the fifth mug of coffee for the morning. "I took a lot of precautions. I triple-checked to make sure the security system was armed. Pogo slept in bed with me so he would let me know if anything moved within 100 feet of the house. The police said they would swing through the neighborhood a few extra times last night. I even kept my big can of hair spray on the nightstand. That stuff feels like pepper spray if it gets in your eyes."
    He raised his eyebrows. "Mandy Jo is dead. So saying that you'll end up like her is a death threat, most likely written by someone who has already committed a murder. Or at least that's how I take it. Seems like a pretty stupid way to discourage you from entering a contest. I'm glad you did all of those things to stay safe last night, but please don't downplay the severity of the threat."
    " I can't help it. Convincing myself that the killer just wants to scare me, to avoid the inconvenience of committing another murder, is about the only way I'll ever be able to get any sleep until the police arrest somebody."
     
    *  *  *
     
    The thump of the kitchen door woke Amy. She stretched her legs out, trying to chase away the sensation of spiders crawling on her feet. She had fallen asleep, curled into a ball in the corner of the couch. Half of her body was numb, and the other half was all prickly. Payback for pretending to be a contortionist in her sleep.
    On her lap Pogo groaned. The poor pup looked as frazzled as she felt. He 'd had a rough week, too. First he ate her pie and ended up with a St. Bernard-sized tummy ache. Then she freaked out about the murder and murderous note. Nights became a continuous cycle of tossing and turning in bed, getting up to stare out the windows while pacing a circuit through every room in the house. The poor doggy had taken to hiding in her walk-in closet instead of sleeping in his pint-sized four-poster bed in the corner of the bedroom. Now that Alex was home and keeping her in bed, using his patented spooning immobilization technique, she was back on better terms with her pup. Pogo actually did a little happy dance when she settled onto the couch and invited him onto her lap for a snuggly nap.
    Now Alex had arrived with the gourmet take-out dinner he had promised to pick up on his way home after his first day back at work. The back door in the kitchen slammed. Pogo launched off the couch. His yippy barks echoed through out the house, accompanied with the scritch of his nails on the hardwood floor.
    " Amy? Dinner's here."
    She tilted her head to the side and was rewarded with a gravely crunch from her neck joints. When she walked into the kitchen Alex already had an array of foil baking pans arranged on the breakfast nook table. Half a dozen cabinet doors were open. It wasn't like she rearranged the kitchen every other week, but he never seemed to be able to find anything. The white china plates clattered as he pulled a couple of them off of the stack.
    " Sit down. I've got this," he said as he set the plates on the table and pulled a rattling bouquet of silverware out of his pants pocket.
    " Smells wonderful." Amy popped the plastic lid off one of the containers. The aroma of tomatoes and cheese intensified. "I've found the lasagne. What other goodies did you get?"
    Alex scooted onto the bench next to her. "There is beef lo mein, ham and green chile quiche, the three cheese lasagne, and a carne asada burrito casserole. I wasn't sure what you would want, so I got a bit of everything. It's from Columbo's, so it should all be good."
    " It always is from there."
    Columbo 's was a