CHAPTER 17 THE MYSTERIOUS TOTE BAG
The next day, I stopped by Penelope’s Sugar Shack to pick up a tray of brownies. No, they weren’t for me, they were for the barbecue—although one of the brownies did accidentally fall off the tray and into my hand on the way back to the marina, so I had to eat it. It would have been wasteful not to, right?
I have to confess, I did feel guilty about it—not about eating the brownie, but about not baking my own award-winning, gooey, quadruple-chocolate brownies. But really, when you’ve been investigating not one but two murders and an alien abduction, someone bashes you in the head when you’re out for a walk, someone else throws you overboard, you’re up for a promotion at work (which gets snatched away from you by that evil, red-headed Lola), and your husb
