Read Online Bombshell by Phyllis DeMarco - Free Book Online Page A

cheek. “I’m an awful lucky girl, Sheriff.”
    “You sure are.” As he pulled himself away, Annalee noticed a mischievous glint in his eye, a playful sparkle that chased the dark thoughts from her mind and brought a smile to her face.
    “Something’s stirring in that brain of yours.”
    “There’s a new picture playin’ at the movie house down on Main Street.”
    “Oh?”
    “A little bird came along and told me somebody I know just happens to be in that picture.”
    Annalee’s grin broadened to a sheepish smile. “Which one is it?”
    “Something called Curse of the Black Cat or some such thing,” he said. “How come you didn’t tell me you were in a scary movie? I love scary movies!”
    “I made that picture over a year ago. I must’ve forgotten all about it.”
    “Let’s go see it tonight.” The eagerness in his eyes reminded her of a little boy. An utterly charming little boy trapped in the body of a gloriously strapping, full-grown man.
    “John, I have so much to do here,” she whimpered. “And look at me—I look like hell.”
    “Oh, come on. Ginger Rogers herself can’t hold a candle to you, sweetie.” He snatched the dishrag out of her hands and tossed it aside. “Forget work for one night, will you? You could use a break, and I want to see if my gorgeous girl can act as well as she can sing.”
    Before she could answer, he planted a dozen playful kisses along the curve of her neck, completely distracting her as he reached around to untie her apron strings. His deft fingers tickled the small of her back, and even as Annalee fell into a fit of giggles, she knew she couldn’t deny him the chance to see her in a perfectly awful motion picture.
    “Only if you help me finish things up in here,” she told him. “I still have to hang all the pots and pans in the kitchen—”
    “Done.” He disappeared, quick as lightning, into the kitchen, and for a moment all was silent. Annalee gave some thought to following him, but the silence was shattered by his mystified voice. “You want ’em hung up, you said?”
    “Do you want me to come in there?”
    “No, I’m here to help, sweetie,” he hollered back. “You want ’em on these hooks over the stove?”
    “Yes, please.”
    There commenced the sound of much metallic clanging and a colorful array of grunts and curses. Satisfied that the sheriff had at last found his way in the kitchen, Annalee returned her attention to wiping the new countertops clean of construction dust, humming a tune to herself as she thought ahead to their night at the picture show.
    And then a scream shattered her thoughts, a high-pitched scream of the sort of bloody terror that preceded someone’s gruesome death, at least in the horror pictures. That the scream was followed by a crash of pots and pans sent her scrambling for the kitchen...
    Where Sheriff Calaway swatted wildly at something so vile, so evil and wicked in its intentions that his handsome face was white with the pallor of death.
    “Don’t move, Annalee, it’ll charge right at you!”
    “What will?”
    “Centipede!” he cried. His body shivered and convulsed as soon as the word fled his pale lips. He flailed at the fallen pots and pans with the broom as if he were trying to rescue the world from a rabid beast.
    Annalee fought a terrible urge to giggle. Stepping into the epic battle with a brave face, she tossed aside the pots and pans and paused to hunt for her quarry.
    Calaway screamed again, and started swatting away as their foul enemy emerged to re-engage the conflict. True enough, the villain was as ugly as he was determined: three inches long and hundreds of two-inch long legs to give him the kind of speed and agility required to make a grown sheriff scream like a little girl.
    The centipede advanced, feinted to the left and, just as Calaway had warned, charged straight toward Annalee, who promptly crushed it under the sole of her brand-new open-toed pump.
    Calaway collapsed against the