No Such Thing As A Good Blind Date: A Brandy Alexander Mystery (No Such Thing As: A Brandy Alexander Mystery) - Plot & Excerpts
Honey, wake up.” The voice belonged to Homicide Detective Robert Anthony DiCarlo of the Philadelphia Police Department. Bobby. What was he doing here? I struggled to open my eyes and found his smoky blue ones staring back at me. My head ached and it took me a few seconds to remember why. “Bobby,” I croaked, battling a tidal wave of nausea, “there are b-body parts in the f-freezer.” Either the concussion was affecting my speech or I was morphing into Paul. “I know, honey,” he said, kneeling next to me. “We’re taking care of it.” He felt the back of my head. “Shit. You’re bleeding. Just lie still until the paramedics can check you over.” He tried to sound reassuring, but he couldn’t mask the concern on his face. I glanced around the basement, which had gotten noticeably more crowded since Barry and I had come down in search of dinner. Apparently, after I’d passed out, Barry called the police and while he was at it, a few of his closest friends from the newsroom.
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