Outfoxed

CHAPTER 47

At seven-thirty the next morning Peter was seated at his kitchen table, Rooster at his knee.

“Woman accuses her sister of stealing her child at birth.” He rattled the newspaper. “Says the infant was spirited out of the hospital.” He looked over the top of the paper. “Twenty years ago.”

Sister laughed, as did Peter. “I guess she just noticed.”

“Uh-huh.” He laughed again. “Are you going to make me one of your famous Jane Overdorf omelettes? I’ll read to you as you work.”

“Lazy ass.”

“That’s right. I’m an old man and entitled to many privileges.”

She greased the skillet, chopped cheese, broke six eggs into the skillet. “Crawford must be cracked.” She tossed the broken eggshells into the sink.

“Well, only partially. Fontaine did top Crawford’s offer. He did promise to bring me cash. I said I wouldn’t sell. Think he kept stringing someone along? You know, he had their money, told them he had me in the bag. That kind of thing. I say Crawford is rich enough to pay someone to kill Fontaine for him. That’s what I say.”

“Do you want onions in your omelette?”

“No. Wouldn’t mind a pickle, though.”

“In the omelette?”

“Where else?”

“You might like it reposing alongside your golden, fluffy omelette.”

“Sounds good.” He returned to the newspaper. “Ah, here’s one for you. At two o’clock a man wearing a Donald Duck mask robbed First Guaranty Trust in Elkins, West Virginia. The teller said . . .”

She flipped the omelette over as Rooster whined. “Yes.” Peter didn’t reply. She flipped the omelette onto a plate, turned around to serve him. “Peter. Oh, Peter.”