The Rise of the Red Queen

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The Rise of the Red Queen Page 23

by Bourne Morris


  “Unbelievable. Shy, sweet Peter Delacroix. What’s going to happen to him this time?”

  “The DA has agreed to prosecute him. He’s about to get his politically well-connected ass fried.”

  “Senator Mom notwithstanding?”

  “You got it.”

  I drove home through the main street of Landry, then past the police station, hoping to spot Joe’s car. I hoped we could talk. But his car was nowhere in sight.

  Sadie Hawkins was out of town visiting her son, and I faced the prospect of celebrating my new job alone. The sun was setting and the sky looked as if it was on fire. The buildings and houses of Landry were bathed in peach-colored light. Our wide open sky in late summer and early fall provided amazing sunsets that guaranteed I would never leave, even if I ended up living in Nevada as a solitary single woman.

  By the time I pulled into my driveway, the sun had gone down, leaving behind a scrim of blue and purple. Charlie greeted me at the door. I was standing by the sink, opening a can of dog food and looking out at my backyard when I heard a familiar sound. Joe’s car in the driveway.

  I gave Charlie his food and waited. Then I couldn’t stand it a moment longer. We had to make up from our quarrel.

  I pushed open the kitchen door and almost hit Joe, who was coming in with a large carton in his arms. He put the carton down on the butcher-block island in the center of the kitchen. He took me in his arms. “Congratulations, sweetheart. I knew you were going to get that job.”

  “How’d you find out?”

  “Your message. Besides, it’s all over town. Nell told Wynan who told Norm, who...” I stopped him with my mouth and we lingered there.

  There were no apologies. That was Joe. And no, we were not going to talk about his earlier angry remarks. Not yet.

  I looked in the carton. Joe’s enormous soup pot was nestled next to his favorite cast iron skillet, items he sometimes brought over to cook at my house, but items he always took back to his apartment. Precious possessions. Upright and next to the pot was a leather case that I knew was filled with his extra sharp chef’s knives.

  Joe removed the skillet from the carton and began to wander around the kitchen. “I’m wondering where to hang this,” he said, his eyes roaming the walls.

  “And I’ll need part of that lower cupboard for the soup pot.”

  I had a steel rack with hooks over the sink. Joe removed an old fry pan of mine and put up his cast-iron treasure. He went back to the carton and pulled out a special knife rack. He held it against the wall near the sink where I assumed he wanted to install it.

  I stifled the temptation to applaud. “If you leave this stuff here, how are you going to cook at your place?”

  Joe shrugged. “I’m not. I figure with the demands of your new job, I’ll be doing all my cooking here from now on.” Charlie let out a low groan of delight. Never doubt that dogs understand English.

  Joe headed back to the open kitchen door.

  “Now what?” I asked.

  “My clothes.”

  I knelt down and pretended to shift pots in the lower cupboard. Then I stopped, closed my eyes and put my hands over my mouth, trying hard to conceal a triumphant grin.

  About the Author

  Bourne Morris began writing at Bennington College where she studied under the late poet laureate, Howard Nemerov. After college, she worked at McCall’s Magazine and then went to Ogilvy&Mather, New York during the “Mad Men” era. David Ogilvy and his colleagues treated her wonderfully, promoted her several times and then sent her west to become head of their agency in Los Angeles. She had a splendid run in advertising.

  In 1983, she joined the University of Nevada Reno as a full professor in Journalism where she taught until 2009. She learned about campus politics when she served as chair of the faculty senate. She retired to write mysteries in 2009 after an equally wonderful teaching career.

  In Case You Missed the 1st Book in the Series

  THE RED QUEEN’S RUN

  Bourne Morris

  A Meredith Solaris Mystery (#1)

  A famous journalism dean is found dead at the bottom of a stairwell. Accident or murder? The police suspect members of the faculty who had engaged in fierce quarrels with the dean—distinguished scholars who were known to attack the dean like brutal schoolyard bullies. When Meredith “Red” Solaris is appointed interim dean, the faculty suspects are furious.

  Will the beautiful red-haired professor be next? The case detective tries to protect her as he heads the investigation, but incoming threats lead him to believe Red’s the next target for death.

  Read all about it at www.henerypress.com

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