Poppy Harmon and the Pillow Talk Killer by Lee Hollis (most read book in the world .txt) 📕

here? Why do all look so nervous? Why am I the only one talking?”

Matt finally bounded over and cupped a hand over Iris’s ear and whispered to her that they had found a bug planted in the office.

That did little to clarify matters.

And now Iris was skulking about the office, checking corners and desktops and inspecting the counter in the kitchenette, determined to find exactly where these insects were overrunning the office. “I told Violet not to leave food out when she made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for Wyatt while he was working!”

Giving up, Poppy marched over and opened one of the kitchenette cupboards, grabbed a tall glass, and filled it with water. Then, she crossed the room to Wyatt and held it up. Wyatt opened his fist, revealing the black device in the palm of his hand. Iris opened her mouth in surprise, but Matt zipped up behind her and clapped a hand over her mouth to silence her. Wyatt dropped the device into the water where it floated to the bottom of the glass.

Matt released Iris, who wiped her mouth.

“Your hand smells fishy!” Iris barked.

“I had tuna for lunch,” Matt said, chagrined.

“What is going on here?” Iris demanded to know.

Poppy set the glass down on Wyatt’s desk. “Is it safe to speak freely now, Wyatt?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that thing’s short-circuited out by now,” Wyatt said.

“Hal Greenwood had someone working for him plant a listening device here in our office,” Matt said.

“What?” Iris gasped. “Why would he do that?”

“Because he’s worried stiff about what we might find out about him, which just makes me want to push ahead even harder,” Poppy said, folding her arms, determined. “I’ve known men like Hal Greenwood most of my life, especially during the years I was working as an actress in Hollywood, and believe me, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to nail that bastard to the wall.”

Matt raised an eyebrow, fascinated by the fury in Poppy’s tone.

Iris turned to Wyatt. “How long do you think he has had us under surveillance?”

Wyatt shrugged. “I don’t know, but it’s a pretty sophisticated piece of equipment. That’s the smallest wireless transmitter I’ve ever seen. It’s highly sensitive and can pick up a whisper from something like thirty-five feet away. There is a tiny SIM card in it so all you have to do is send a text from your cell phone number to the device, then it knows you. You can place it anywhere and call it anytime to listen to surrounding sounds from anywhere on your phone. No rings, beeps, or clicks to tip off the target.”

“And how do you know so much about it?” Poppy inquired.

“Come on, Poppy, haven’t you figured it out yet? I’m really, really smart,” Wyatt cracked.

“And half your Internet history are spy gadget Web sites. You’re like a mini James Bond,” Matt said.

Suddenly the door to the garage office flew open and Violet breezed in. “Hi, everyone, what did I miss?”

“The office was bugged!” Wyatt excitedly told his grandmother.

“Well, it’s no wonder, I have begged Iris countless times to keep up with her housecleaning,” Violet sighed. “I even told her if she just invested in a mop and a bottle of Clorox, I’d do it myself. I really don’t mind. If you let it go too long, that’s when you can start to see an infestation.”

“Don’t be daft, Violet, he’s not talking about those kinds of bugs! We found a listening device! Someone has been eavesdropping on our private conversations!” Iris groaned, completely forgetting she had just made the exact assumption only moments earlier.

“Oh, dear,” Violet said with a furrowed brow as she undoubtedly recounted in her mind every possible embarrassing conversation she might have had in the office over the past few days.

Poppy noticed something oddly different about Violet and asked, “Have you done something with your hair?”

“Yes,” Violet said, brightening. “The girl at the salon called the style Stacked Ash Layers. Is it gray? Is it blond? You’ll never know with this expertly blended ash-toned hue. She did a lovely job, don’t you think?”

“Very chic,” Matt agreed.

Iris stepped forward, suspicious. “That’s very unlike you to experiment with a new hairstyle. You won’t even eat a bagel if it isn’t plain. What is going on?”

“Nothing,” Violet said, her face slowly turning crimson.

She was a terrible fibber.

“And where were you last night?” Iris asked brusquely. “I tried calling you four times and you never picked up or returned my calls!”

“I . . . I had a date,” Violet muttered.

This revelation stopped the presses.

“You what?” Iris gasped, obviously convinced she had misheard what Violet had said the first time.

“If you must know, I met a man square-dancing at the club the other evening, and he asked me out to dinner,” Violet said quickly. “And so last night he took me to John Henry’s for dinner and it was quite lovely.”

They all stared at her in disbelief.

“This is why I didn’t say anything, so I could avoid this exact situation with all your mouths dropped open in shock. Is it so hard to believe a man would show interest in me anymore?”

“Of course not!” Matt exclaimed. “You’re a beautiful, vibrant, dynamic woman, Violet!”

“Please, let’s not get carried away,” Iris remarked.

“What’s his name? What does he look like?” Poppy asked.

“His name is Phil, he’s a retired history professor from Boise, Idaho—”

“So he is boring,” Iris said.

“Iris, please!” Poppy scolded before whirling back around to Violet. “Do you have a picture?”

Violet rummaged for her phone in her bag. “Why, yes, I had the waiter take one of us while we were sharing a dessert, a key lime pie cheesecake, it was to die for.” Violet tapped her phone and brought up the photo and held it out for all of them to see.

It was an adorable picture of Violet and Phil both diving their forks into the cheesecake, laughing, at a corner table amidst the lush greenery on the patio of this popular Palm Springs staple. What was striking was