Popped Off
Page 21
“At Texas Roadhouse,” she continued, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
“You saw them at dinner?” I said. “I’m sure they were friends, Susan. George was the groundskeeper here.”
George Spellman operated a small lawn service business in Rose Petal. He also moonlighted as the groundskeeper at the Carriveau County fairgrounds during the summer.
Susan shook her head. “No. This was not a business dinner.”
I’ll admit, I was curious. “How do you know?”
Her fingernails dug into my forearm. “There were tears. She was clutching his arm. I think . . . I think he might have been leaving her. Ending the relationship.”
This was a woman who watched far too many soap operas.
“You know, people might say the same thing about me and you,” I said.
Her lipstick-reddened mouth formed a perfect O. “Oh?”
I glanced at my arm. “You just pulled me away from a crowd. You’re whispering into my ear. Clutching my arm . . .”
She dropped my arm like it was a stick crawling with fire ants.
“Deuce Winters! I am insulted!” She stepped away, the picture of indignation.
“Just sayin’.” I tried not to laugh. “Look, I gotta go find my wife. Make sure she doesn’t hear any rumors about me and you.”
Susan glared after me as I walked away.
Julianne and Carly were in the animal barn, along with a sea of other fairgoers. It wasn’t air-conditioned, but there were fans circulating hot air, at least giving the impression that people were being cooled off.
“Is the viper gone?” Julianne sat perched on a tiny chair, her stomach ballooning in front of her. I wasn’t sure if she’d be able to get up.
“Yeah, she’s gone.”
“Daddy, look at this bunny!” Carly sat across from Julianne, the biggest rabbit I’d ever seen huddled in her lap.
“Are you sure that isn’t a bear?” I asked. I stroked the rabbit’s silky ears.
“I want him,” she told me. “He’s for sale. The sign on the cage says so. He’s only ten dollars!”
“And he probably eats ten dollars worth of food a day,” I said.
“Daddy,” Carly said, scolding me. “He’s not that big.” She stood to return him to his cage.
“What else did Susan have to say?” Julianne asked.
I stood behind her and rubbed her shoulders. “The usual. Just some rumors about the dead guy.”
“What kind of rumors?”
“That he and Matilda were having an affair.”
Julianne whipped her head around to look at me. “Are you serious?”
“Serious that she said that? Yes. Serious that he was? Good God, I hope not.”
“Deuce.” Her voice was filled with warning.
“What?”
“Do not get involved.”
“I don’t intend to.”
“That’s not good enough.”
She pushed on the seat of the chair, trying to heave herself to a standing position. I grabbed her under the shoulders and helped.
“I mean it,” she said, her eyes narrowed. “I am a hundred weeks pregnant. I am about to have a baby. I have a practice that needs all of my time and then some. Do not get involved.”
I held her to me. “Okay, okay.” I kissed the top of her head.
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
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Copyright © 2012 by Jeff Shelby
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