Popped Off (23 page)
Authors: Jeffrey Allen
3
I wasn’t sure I’d heard correctly.
“Matilda??”
Susan nodded her head, her hairspray-drenched curls bobbing obediently. “Yes. She and George. Everyone is talking about it.”
I was pretty sure the only person talking about it was Susan. And if other people were talking about it, it was because of her.
“Hmm. That is . . . interesting.”
She waited for me to ask questions. I didn’t.
“Don’t you want to know?” she asked. “I thought you were an ‘investigator.’”
“I am. But I’m not working this case.” Or any case at the moment. Which was pretty much fine with me.
“You might want to after you hear about Matilda.”
She wasn’t gonna stop. “Fine. What makes you think they were having an affair?”
Susan pulled me away from the food stand, toward the arts and crafts building. I wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t as if people were crowding around, gawking at the crime scene. George’s body had been removed, and the police cars were gone. One car was still parked next to the building, a dark blue, unmarked sedan. The detective working the case.
She stopped just short of the entrance to the arts and crafts building and pulled me next to the wall.
“I saw them,” she whispered. “Together.”
I flinched. I wasn’t so sure I wanted more details about four-hundred-pound Matilda and her supposed lover.
“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.
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
.”
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
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2012 by Jeff Shelby
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat & TM Off.
ISBN: 978-0-7582-7966-8
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