Janet Evanovich - Full Scoop

Mel looked at Everest. "The only reason my mom isn't fat is because she has good genes. My grandmother is thin and so was my great-grandmother."

"Did they eat a lot of chocolate too?" Everest asked.

Mel nodded. "Tons of it."

Maggie opened the pantry and searched through it for spaghetti. All she could find was a box of macaroni and cheese. "If I don't buy groceries soon we're going to be in trouble."

"I want pizza," Mel said. "We always order pizza delivery on the weekend."

"When you're home," Maggie answered, "which you seldom are."

"You could go out on weekends too if you wanted," Mel said, "instead of sitting home reading your dumb medical journals. You're long-suffering."

"Excuse me?" Maggie arched one brow.

"You haven't come to terms with Dad's death. You compare every man you meet to him, and they always fall short. You need closure, Mom."

"That's deep," Everest said.

"She probably heard that on Oprah," Queenie said, reading the newspaper at the table. "They're always saying stuff like that on Oprah."

"Nope," Mel said. "Caitlin told me. She heard it from her mom who heard it from—"

"Abby Bradley," Maggie and Queenie said in unison.

"Uh-huh." Mel finished her bagel and licked her fingers.

"I'll bet Abby heard it on Oprah," Queenie said. "Abby isn't smart enough to come up with something like that on her own. She's not even smart enough to know when to keep her mouth shut. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, somebody needs to teach that woman a good lesson."

"That somebody better not be you," Maggie told her.

"Bottom line, Mom," Mel continued. "You need to start dating. People are going to think you're weird. I know you can find somebody in this town you're attracted to."

"I could help you with that," Queenie said, giving Maggie a big smile.

"Yes, you've told me. A trillion times," Maggie added. "And the answer is still N-O."

"All you would have to do is pick out a man you like," Queenie went on as though she hadn't heard a word Maggie said. "And leave the rest up to me. Mel is right. There has to be one man in this town you find attractive. All it takes is one."

The back door opened and Zack stepped through. Four sets of eyes stared at him.

"Why is everybody staring at me?" he asked. "If you tell me I have ketchup on my face it's going to be hard to explain because I haven't been near the stuff."

"Um, we were just trying to decide what kind of pizza to order," Maggie said, "and wondering what you like."

He shrugged. "I'm easy to please."

"Me too," Everest said.

"I'll call Crusty's," Mel said, going for the phone. "I'll order one large pepperoni and one with everything."

Zack looked at Maggie. "I forgot to ask you earlier," he said. "What's the deal with the goat?"

Maggie's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, no! Poor Butterbean!"

Mel stopped in her tracks and slapped her palm against her forehead. "I forgot we had a dumb goat. It's hard to think with Aunt Queenie doing her smelly voodoo thing."

"Be careful what you say about my practices," Queenie said sternly. "I'd hate to have to put the root on you."

Mel rolled her eyes back so far in her head that Maggie was certain she'd caught a glimpse of her brain.

"And don't you roll those eyes at me, young lady," Queenie said. "You know I don't tolerate eye-rolling. You keep rolling those eyes, and you might just find them stuck like that for a while."

"Okay, I'll do this instead." Mel stepped closer; raised her fingers to her eyes and turned the lids inside out.

"Oh, Lord!" Queenie cried, backing away and giving a huge shudder. "Stop that!"

Zack grinned and looked at Maggie who simply shook her head. "Ignore it," she whispered.

"Wow!" Everest said. "That's the ugliest thing I've ever seen. How long can she do that?"

Mel stuck her head forward, giving Queenie a better view. "I can't find my eyeballs," the girl wailed.

"Get away from me," Queenie cried, grimacing, "or I'm going to smack your backside so hard with this wooden spoon that you won't be able to sit for a week."

"Cut it out, Mel," Maggie said, trying to concentrate on what to do with the goat.

Mel turned toward her mother's voice, arms flailing. "Is that you, Mom?" she said, putting her hand on Maggie's face and exploring it with her fingertips.

Zack and Everest laughed.

Maggie's expression was deadpan, even though it was hard to remain straight-faced over her daughter's antics, no matter how juvenile. "Please fix your eyes," she said calmly.

"They're gone. Aunt Queenie stole them for her witch's brew."

Maggie shrugged. "Guess that means you can't order pizza. Too bad."

Finally, the girl rubbed her eyes and blinked several times until the lids were back in place. She headed for the phone.

Queenie looked relieved.

"I forgot about Butterbean too," Maggie told Zack, feeling sorry for the little pygmy with the kooky-looking eyes that nobody seemed to want. "I don't have any goat food. I don't even have a place to keep her. Except for maybe the garage. She'll need hay."

"I can get it," Everest said. "Carter's Hardware and Feed is ten minutes from here."

"Take the van," Zack said, tossing him the keys.

Maggie was relieved. "I really appreciate it," she said. She reached for her purse and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. "Go ahead and grab two bales of hay if you have enough money."

"Oh, wait," Zack said and pulled out his wallet. "How about picking up half a dozen good-quality night-lights from the hardware department."

"Wow, you must really be afraid of the dark," Mel said as the others gave him a questioning look.

Zack shrugged. "You never know when they might come in handy."

"I'm on it," Everest said. He opened the back door and jumped at the sight of a young man with tousled brown hair and a wrinkled coat. A camera hung from his neck. "You half scared me to death!" Everest said. "Who are you?"

"Mike Henderson from the Gazette." He had to look straight up to see Everest. "Wow, you're big."

Everest nodded. "I was born big. That's why I was named after a mountain."

"Is your name Matterhorn?"

Zack joined Everest at the door. "What can I do for you, Mr. Henderson?" he asked.

The reporter pried his eyes off Everest. "I was hoping to have a word with Dr. Davenport."

"Why?"

Mike looked surprised. "Well, um, I'd like to talk to her about an old friend of hers by the name of Carl Lee Stanton."

"Why?" Zack repeated.

"I'm writing an article about his escape this morning, and I wanted Dr. Davenport's response."

"Did he say his name was Henderson?" Queenie suddenly shouted. "That's the smart-aleck reporter who wrote the nasty article about my family." She stepped up to the door, hands on hips.

Everest frowned. "Do you want me to have a little talk with him before I go to the feed store, Granny Queenie?"

Mike instantly paled. "I don't know what she's talking about."

"You called my grandfather a witch doctor," Queenie said.

Everest grabbed the lapels of Mike's jacket and lifted him off the floor. "You don't talk about Granny Queenie's family like that."

"Wait! There has been a mistake," Mike said. He looked at Queenie. "Who was your grandfather?"

"Dr. Cloud."

"The Root Doctor? Oh, crap."

"If I hadn't been nursing my sick neighbor I would have marched right up to that newspaper office and given you what for. I let her talk me out of it. But now I'm mad again just seeing your face."

Maggie and Mel exchanged sighs.

"Okay," Zack said. "Let's just settle down. Nobody is going to hurt anybody."

Everest lowered Mike to the floor. "I'll be on my way, then," he said. "Excuse me, Mike, I need to get by."