Take the Monkeys and Run (A Barbara Marr Murder Mystery #1) by Karen Cantwell

to wipe it, it slid open quite easily—almost on its own, really.” I knew this was lame, but I was determined to stay out of jail. I imagined the network news teaser: “A mother from Rustic Woods does time in the big house after discovering a dead head in an empty house—what will become of her kids? Details at ten.”
    I started to feel nauseous again. The mixture of fear, excitement, and adrenaline added to shivering in the chilly October air for over an hour was wearing me out.
    “You know, I think I’m feeling sick again . . .”
    Officer Brad, not wanting to have to clean his shoes a second time, moved off hastily.
    I walked over to Peggy and Roz and hugged them both, while Howard talked to the policeman. My two friends looked as sick as I felt. Peggy’s husband, Simon, had come over to give her some moral support. When Howard was done talking to the police, he put his arms around me and walked me into our house while the frenzy continued.
    “You want something?” he asked as he walked to the kitchen.
    “A cup of tea would be nice. With a whiskey chaser. Make that a whiskey, forget the tea. Make it a double.”
    “You don’t drink whiskey.”
    “Oh. I forgot. Just tea, then.” I shivered. “And a warm blanket.” I sat down in my nice big, overstuffed, comfy chair in the family room, curled my feet under my bottom, and laid my head down on the soft chenille pillow.
    I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, my eyes opened to darkness and I was covered in our red electric blanket. My body felt like I’d just run a marathon—not that I’d ever run a marathon, but I have a good imagination. I moaned, pulling my body out of the chair, and hobbled to the kitchen, turning the light on.
    There was a big note scribbled in crayon taped to the microwave: TOOK THE GIRLS OUT TO DINNER. WE’LL BRING SOMETHING BACK. HOWARD. PS: HAPPY BIRTHDAY. I smiled. He hadn’t forgetten my birthday. Or—my smile faded—maybe he HAD forgotten, and the girls had reminded him. More likely the latter.
    The clock said ten after six. I had slept a long time. Howard and the girls would probably be back soon. I was hoping they’d bring me my favorite—soft tacos with extra cheese from Taco Loco. Soft tacos would really hit the spot. I opened a couple of cupboards, but found nothing even closely related to a soft taco, so I pulled two small Almond Joys from the Halloween candy bowl. At least I was getting some protein. And isn’t coconut a fruit? I was contemplating going upstairs for a shower to wash away the stress and grime, when the phone rang. Caller ID told me it was Roz. I picked up.
    “Hey,” I said.
    “How are you doing?”
    “I’m feeling better. Still creeped out though. You?”
    “Well, I’m okay, but boy, did I have to calm Peter down. He was furious at me. Said I was a busybody.”
    “Busybody? Does anybody really say that anymore?” I asked.
    “Just Peter, the old fogey. He’s settled down now, though. But that’s not why I’m calling. You left before the good stuff happened!”
    “Something else happened?” I was stunned. I couldn’t believe the day I had been having. The birthday from hell.
    “Oh yeah, something else happened. A black, very official-looking car pulled up, followed by a big white van. Two guys in suits and sunglasses got out of the car and flashed badges around to the police at the scene. Guess who it was.”
    “Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones?”
    “Who?” she asked. Evidently, Roz wasn’t a fan of the Men in Black movies. Poor Roz.
    “Never mind. Who was it?”
    “They were from Meadowland Labs.”
    “What’s that?” I asked. I wasn’t understanding her fascination or the connection.
    “Meadowland—the animal testing lab in Loudoun County.”
    “I don’t get it.”
    “Turns out, there wasn’t just a dead human head in that house,” she said.
    “What else?” I asked, even though I was starting to follow her and was thinking I might know the