Chapter Fourteen
Back in the kitchen, the smell of burnt bread was strong and Tommy secretly hoped that the squirrels were enjoying their breakfast. If not, her fastidious landlady would be complaining about toast in her flower garden and it wouldn't take Sherlock Homes to figure out the source of the contamination. Old Mrs. Jennings, lived below, and was too arthritic to open a window. Oh well, Tommy sighed and cut another slice of bread.
Tommy skipped the toaster oven and spread on the mayo, laid in sliced ham, cheese and topped off her sandwich with fresh lettuce and a little Dijon. She wrapped her lunch in cellophane and added a pickle to the brown paper bag. With lunch settled there was only the question of what to wear. Summer hadn't quite settled in, though it was mid June. From h
