CHAPTER 11
Detective Cory Frost teased the crumpled slice of bread from the toaster, burning his thumb. What was it about the appliance that always warped whatever he put in the left-hand slot? The right side worked just fine.
He took a stubborn pride in using the toaster, the microwave, and the blender because they were his, tokens of his independence. With his promotion to the detective division, and the little bump in pay, he’d moved out of his mother’s house and into the tiny garden apartment. He had his own place, and a job he loved. Now all he needed was a girlfriend who could cook like mom and he’d be kicking his shoes off on cloud nine.
He wondered if Lieutenant Jamieson knew her way around the kitchen and felt himself blush.
Running his toasted thumb under cold water, he thoug
