Love Can Be Murder

magazine her mother had forced upon her.
    "If you eat a frozen mashed banana instead of a cup of ice cream, you would save two hundred twenty calories. If you normally indulge in ice cream once a week, you would lose a whopping four pounds a year."
    Four lousy pounds? In an entire year? Who did these people think they were kidding—a frozen banana wasn't ice cream, it was a freaking frozen banana. She took a bite out of a chocolate Moon Pie, then slapped the magazine shut and rooted around for something more interesting. It was all pretty much the same crap, though—eat less, exercise more, blah, blah, blah.
    Mike Brown's stack of Progressive Farmer lay untouched. Out of sheer boredom, she opened the cover and wrinkled her nose: "To Fertilize or Not to Fertilize," "Pasture Rotation," "Liquid Swine Waste." But one item in the table of contents caught her eye: "Marvelous Meat Loaf."
    When she was around six years old, her mother had hired a little old woman named Liza who made the most incredible meat loaf and mashed potatoes with gravy. But even at six her cheeks were a bit on the chubby side, so her mother restricted her portions to mere spoonfuls no matter how much she pleaded for more. Dear Liza would sneak a plateful to her room after dinner. But when Dee caught Angora under the covers sopping gravy with a piece of white bread, she'd fired Liza on the spot and hired a bony woman who considered spinach a staple. Ugh.
    With mouth watering, she turned to the recipe. Knowing how to make meat loaf seemed like a good basic skill to have. Oooh, there was a picture—a nice juicy hunk of meat with a drizzle of red sauce baked on top, served up with creamy mashed potatoes swimming in brown gravy. Heaven. On. Earth.
    A knock on the door sent her scrambling—her parents were back. "Come in," she sang, shoving the Moon Pie and the magazine under her pillow. She wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her gown and pasted on a sublime smile.
    But the last person in the world she expected to walk in was Trenton, impeccably dressed in tan slacks and a mint-green cashmere sweater she had bought him for his birthday.
    "Hello, Angora."
    Her jaw dropped and her mind raced, searching for all those vile things she'd imagined saying to him if and when she ever saw him . "Uh, hi."
    "Guess you're surprised to see me."
    She nodded, speechless.
    He walked to the end of her bed. "I heard about all your trouble and wanted to come and see for myself that you were okay."
    So he did care. "Wh-when did you get here?"
    "I flew in about an hour ago."
    "Where's Darma?"
    "We're not together anymore."
    Her heart surged. "Why not?" Because he'd come to his senses and realized that Angora was the love of his life.
    "She wanted me to sign a prenup, and that was that." He gestured to her stomach. "How are you feeling?"
    "Better. I had my gallbladder removed, and a cup of gallstones."
    "Your mother and I warned you about eating like a garbage pail."
    If she hadn't gone on that diet before the wedding, she would've been fine. "Then I developed complications. An infection—doctor said he'd never seen one so bad."
    "Yeah, that can be serious. Did they have you on an IV?"
    "Until yesterday."
    "That explains why you're so bloated."
    She frowned. "Did you hear I was arrested for murder?"
    "Your mother said the charges were being dropped."
    "They are, but for a while, I was a primary suspect."
    He laughed. "Yeah, the police up here must be a bunch of clowns if they thought you were capable of murder. Everybody at the club had a big hoot over that one." He laughed again, dabbing at his eyes. What might have been a compliment was canceled out by his sarcasm—as if she weren't smart enough to pull off a murder.
    "I was the last person who saw the professor alive. We were on a date."
    He put his hands in his pockets. "Did the two of you, um...you know?"
    "Have sex? That's none of your business."
    Trenton cleared his throat. "The papers said you bought him at a bachelor auction or something."
    She finally smiled. "I hocked my engagement ring, so I had a little extra cash lying around."
    He pulled on his collar. "Okay, I deserve that. But I'll get you a bigger ring."
    "Huh?"
    "I made a big mistake, Angora, and I wouldn't blame you if you don't forgive me, but I want us to get back together."
    Mixed emotions filled her chest—hadn't she fantasized that he'd come crawling back to her?
    "We're perfect for each other, Angora. You know me, you know what I'm thinking."
    "I