With Vics You Get Eggroll (A Mad for Mod Mystery Book 3) by Diane Vallere Page B

a city I barely knew, I did so with the hopes of severing ties with my past and starting over. But after a killer almost took my life and the story of the Pillow Stalker became part of the news, my former lover tracked me down. He offered a reconciliation that had ended badly. These days, I was starting to expect the very chaos I’d left behind when I fled Pennsylvania.
    Is that why I had found myself oddly attracted to Tex when he’d shown up in my life? Was it a case of being drawn to an opposite of myself, or did he represent the newfound thrill of chaos, heat, and passion that I’d denied myself after my last big breakup? Would I ever be happy with the routine I had once craved?
    Even though my arms were tired and I wanted to stop and catch my breath, I flip turned next to purple cap, who was resting by the end of the lane. My feet kicked up a splash of water. I hit a groove and picked up the pace. My thoughts picked up as well.
    When Hudson, my handyman, had been in trouble, I believed in him. And when I was in trouble, he had done the unthinkable and gone to Tex behind my back and asked the lieutenant to look out for me. Kinda like what I’d done by calling Nasty to help out Tex.
    My, what a wicked web we weave.
    I glided to the end of the lap and pulled my goggles up. The lane next to me had emptied out and Purple Cap had moved into it.
    “Sorry about that back there,” he said. “I’ve been a little wound up lately and I’m afraid I took it out on you. Hope there’s no hard feelings.”
    I defaulted to my cordial Doris Day voice. “I’ve always found the pool to be a good place to work off tension,” I said, hiding any trace of anger.
    “Here’s hoping. I’m running out of things to build in the garage. I’m Jake, by the way.”
    “Madison,” I replied. I bent my knees underneath me and let the water cover me up to my shoulders. “And I agree. When the pool isn’t available, construction works too.”
    He raised his eyebrows. “You do construction?”
    “It’s part of my job.” I pulled my cap off and dunked my head underwater. When I popped back up, I slicked my hair back with one hand and tucked my cap and goggles under the side of my bathing suit. “Nice talking to you,” I said. I climbed out of the water and went into the locker room.
    I got ready quickly. My naturally blond hair picked up sun-bleached highlights from time spent in the chlorine, and a lifelong attachment to sunscreen kept me looking far younger than my forty-eight years.
    Being pale in my twenties had made me less than popular around my peers, but it all evened out now that they were pricing Botox treatments and microdermabrasion processes and I used whatever moisturizer was on sale at Rite-Aid.
    I dressed in the lime green, double-breasted pantsuit and slipped my feet into patent leather flats with white daisies on the front. I left the locker room and dawdled by the bleachers. Still no signs of Tex. I hoisted my bag on my shoulder and went out to my car. A man stood on the steps out front typing something into his phone.
    “Madison—it’s Madison, right?” he said. “Wait up.”
    I turned around. “Do I know you?”
    “Jake. We just met in there?” He pulled a purple swim cap from his bag. “We shared a lane?”
    “Oh, right.”
    “You said something about construction being part of your job. What did you mean by that?”
    “I own a mid-century modern interior decorating business. Sometimes before I can get started on the decorating I have to do a bit of construction or demolition.”
    “You’re kidding.”
    “Afraid not,” I said. By now we were next to my car. My yellow hardhat, dirty coveralls, and canvas sneakers sat in the back seat. It was pretty good evidence that I wasn’t making this up.
    He reached into the back seat and picked up a piece of wood painted with four streaks of the paints Mitchell expected me to endorse. He’d given it to me as a nudge. The streaks hadn’t been dry when I set