Read Online Black Locust Letters by Nicolette Jinks - Free Book Online Page A

she decided the code was either
very clever, or just non-existent.
    Betty threw the last paper down,
annoyed, and tried not to think of the letters in her purse, the
letters that might contain clues if she were willing to break the
seal, but what would be the cost?
    The
next evening, when she should have been grumbling to herself about
working the morning shift after attending an evening convention,
Betty found herself thinking about Clarkin and That Woman. With a
mind to spiting Clarkin's fickleness, she dressed in a simple black
dress, one with a tulle-edged swing skirt which came about her
knees and was lace from the sweetheart neckline up, a
semi-transparent affair which would have been forbidden by her
father if he had known. That Woman had seemed so dominant, so
aggressive, and perhaps a bit older than him. Maybe that was the
sort of woman he respected, preying on the girl-next-door for his
kicks.
    Betty flinched, not sure why she'd been so quick to think the
absolute worst of him. He certainly hadn't earned it, not
yet.
    With
a glance to her watch, she realized she had best hurry. Right then,
a taxi honked two quick beeps, and Betty ran out to it. Tonight she
was co-hosting with Richard Welch, the night time charmer who often
joked himself with the tagline incubus, but Betty wasn't sure if
that was a political comment on the Never Weres or not. Ever since
she had started at Tango Lima Romeo, he had given her the cold
shoulder. She'd assumed it was because he was cut from the same
mould as Mr. Gresley.
    At
the Town Hall, in a crowd of military black and blues and the
wives' finest gowns, Betty had no time to spare a second thought
about anything except work and staying awake. She stood in one of
the premium booths by the entrance, a rudimentary recording studio
set up around her and her co-host, the evening show Richard Welch,
a man with a throaty voice and booming character which was
completely at odds with his church mouse stature and big
boggle-eyes.
    “ We
are here at Sanctuary Town Hall, raising awareness and funds for
war orphans still being uncovered by humanitarians,” he said.
“Please, if you are out on the town tonight, come on by! Admission
is free, but we suggest a dollar a person donation at the door. We
have lots of activities here tonight.”
    When
he nodded to Betty, she said, “The organizers have bobbing for
apples, a cake walk, caramel apple dipping, face painting,
pin-the-tail-on-the-goblin, and kelpie basketball. Come soon to
place your bets, all money goes straight to the War Orphan funds.
We're only at twelve percent so far, so bring your friends, bring
your parents, bring a date!”
    “ And
remember that our sweet Betty is going to be hosting you again in
the early morning hours, so make the most of her, folks! We're
here, we're jiving, and now it's time for a throwback to some
twenties hot sauce.”
    With
that, Richard put his sounds together and let it play. Betty sighed
and leaned back in her chair, not used to sharing a hosting slot
with Richard. He dug a cigarette out of his coat pocket and took a
drag. “Perk up, sweet cheeks. You sound tired, and the boys want
none a that. They want a fresh-faced gal they can score with
tonight. Get your act together.”
    Betty scoffed. “It's time for me to be in bed. I wake up at
four, you know, so people have something to listen to during their
commute to the first shift at five.”
    “ Ain't no man who will take you to bed before nine, honeybuns,
and he'd keep you up until well past now, if he was worth his
salt.”
    Betty kept a sour look from her face. “Ain't no woman who
will stay awake until your shift ends, lest she be a
handkerchief-throwing hussy.”
    “ Got
my love life damn right, hunny. And I got yours pegged, too.” He
paused to relight his cigarette. “Unless...but nah, you're the
straight and narrow sort. No point even mentioning it to
you.”
    “ Mentioning what?”
    He
lifted a brow, shrugged, and said, “Listen, darling,