Read Online Crossed Bones by Carolyn Haines - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Carolyn Haines
Tags: Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Detective and Mystery Stories, Mystery Fiction, Women Private Investigators, Crimes against, Mississippi, Delaney; Sarah Booth (Fictitious Character), Women Private Investigators - Mississippi, Women Plantation Owners, African American Musicians, African American Musicians - Crimes Against
Ads: Link
place in the future. He knows the rules, Sarah Booth, even the ones you refuse to learn. Now that's the man for you." She stood up. "Get some beauty rest, girl. I have a feelin' it won't be long before he comes a-callin' again."
I didn't bother telling her our second date was already set. I took myself up the stairs and into my bedroom, wondering if the strange hot feeling in my gut was anticipation for my next meeting with Bridge, or revenge against a badge-wearing man who suffered from a waffling heart.
7
The pounding on the front door was sharp and irritating . It was, yet again, the familiar pitter-patter of little fists. It was bright and early on a Thursday morning, and Tinkie had come calling. She would be hungry.
My first thought, irrational though it was, was to pull the covers over my head and hide. I'd been in the middle of a complicated dream that was backlit by smoky pink neon, rotating stage lights, and a huge clock/calendar that kept running backwards until it stopped in 1965. Someone was moving out of that smoky pink neon toward me. A man who walked in a way that made a woman think of making love in the middle of a hot afternoon with the windows wide open and a breeze teasing the curtains.
"Sarah Booth Delaney, get your butt out of bed!" Tinkie beat on the door with a rat-a-tat-tat that meant business.
I rolled out with a groan, threw on a T-shirt, and went to open the door. The three bottles of champagne that had seemed like such a fine idea the night before were now a bitter memory aggravated by a pounding headache.
"Sarah Booth," Tinkie cried, giving me a disgusted look. "It's nine o'clock, and you're still in bed. I thought you were going to see Coleman this morning."
A visual of Coleman at his desk flashed through my brain on jagged streaks of hangover pain. I could see him, blue eyes unflinching, as he questioned me about Playin' the Bones and my little visit there. "I am, but--"
"How late did you stay out with Bridge?" Tinkie shifted positions so that she was in my face. Chablis, who was tucked in her arm, hurled herself free and onto my chest. Luckily, my reflexes weren't affected by the bags under my eyes, and I was able to catch her.
"We were dancing and we got carried away. The night was--"
"You didn't!" Her face was stricken. "Sarah Booth, no man wants a woman who's ee-a-zy !"In DG lingo, the three-syllable pronunciation of easy has only one meaning--a desperate woman who drops her drawers at the first attention paid by a man.
I was annoyed. "Tell that to Jitty," I snapped before I thought.
"Who?" She was like a rat terrier. "Who's Jitty? What are you talking about?"
I shook my head. "Part of a dream," I said. "Let me put on some coffee." I stumbled toward the kitchen knowing that the only thing capable of diverting Tinkie's attention was the smell of bacon sizzling in my big, old cast-iron skillet. To that end, I threw a half dozen slices of thick-cut
Smithfield
into the pan.
Tinkie settled at the table, not even blinking an eye when Sweetie Pie picked Chablis up by the neck and carried her out through the doggie door. Not so long ago, such a sight would have given Tinkie a stroke. Now she'd grown to love my big old hound dog, and she knew Sweetie adored Chablis.
The bacon was sizzling and the coffee was perking, as was Tinkie's curiosity. "So, how was Bridge?" she asked. "I mean, I completely disapprove of sleeping with a man on the first date. It goes against all the rules, Sarah Booth.
It's ... cheap." She pulled a moue and tried to restrain herself--unsuccessfully. "How was he? Pitiful, adequate, or .. . divine?" She was leaning so far forward that only her chest kept her from sprawling on top of the table.
"Very athletic," I said. "And just a little kinky."
The look on her face was worth the lie.
"Sarah Booth! Bridge is a highly respected ..." She caught the glint in my eye. "That was mean! For a minute you had me worried. I mean, you really can't throw yourself at a man
I didn't bother telling her our second date was already set. I took myself up the stairs and into my bedroom, wondering if the strange hot feeling in my gut was anticipation for my next meeting with Bridge, or revenge against a badge-wearing man who suffered from a waffling heart.
7
The pounding on the front door was sharp and irritating . It was, yet again, the familiar pitter-patter of little fists. It was bright and early on a Thursday morning, and Tinkie had come calling. She would be hungry.
My first thought, irrational though it was, was to pull the covers over my head and hide. I'd been in the middle of a complicated dream that was backlit by smoky pink neon, rotating stage lights, and a huge clock/calendar that kept running backwards until it stopped in 1965. Someone was moving out of that smoky pink neon toward me. A man who walked in a way that made a woman think of making love in the middle of a hot afternoon with the windows wide open and a breeze teasing the curtains.
"Sarah Booth Delaney, get your butt out of bed!" Tinkie beat on the door with a rat-a-tat-tat that meant business.
I rolled out with a groan, threw on a T-shirt, and went to open the door. The three bottles of champagne that had seemed like such a fine idea the night before were now a bitter memory aggravated by a pounding headache.
"Sarah Booth," Tinkie cried, giving me a disgusted look. "It's nine o'clock, and you're still in bed. I thought you were going to see Coleman this morning."
A visual of Coleman at his desk flashed through my brain on jagged streaks of hangover pain. I could see him, blue eyes unflinching, as he questioned me about Playin' the Bones and my little visit there. "I am, but--"
"How late did you stay out with Bridge?" Tinkie shifted positions so that she was in my face. Chablis, who was tucked in her arm, hurled herself free and onto my chest. Luckily, my reflexes weren't affected by the bags under my eyes, and I was able to catch her.
"We were dancing and we got carried away. The night was--"
"You didn't!" Her face was stricken. "Sarah Booth, no man wants a woman who's ee-a-zy !"In DG lingo, the three-syllable pronunciation of easy has only one meaning--a desperate woman who drops her drawers at the first attention paid by a man.
I was annoyed. "Tell that to Jitty," I snapped before I thought.
"Who?" She was like a rat terrier. "Who's Jitty? What are you talking about?"
I shook my head. "Part of a dream," I said. "Let me put on some coffee." I stumbled toward the kitchen knowing that the only thing capable of diverting Tinkie's attention was the smell of bacon sizzling in my big, old cast-iron skillet. To that end, I threw a half dozen slices of thick-cut
Smithfield
into the pan.
Tinkie settled at the table, not even blinking an eye when Sweetie Pie picked Chablis up by the neck and carried her out through the doggie door. Not so long ago, such a sight would have given Tinkie a stroke. Now she'd grown to love my big old hound dog, and she knew Sweetie adored Chablis.
The bacon was sizzling and the coffee was perking, as was Tinkie's curiosity. "So, how was Bridge?" she asked. "I mean, I completely disapprove of sleeping with a man on the first date. It goes against all the rules, Sarah Booth.
It's ... cheap." She pulled a moue and tried to restrain herself--unsuccessfully. "How was he? Pitiful, adequate, or .. . divine?" She was leaning so far forward that only her chest kept her from sprawling on top of the table.
"Very athletic," I said. "And just a little kinky."
The look on her face was worth the lie.
"Sarah Booth! Bridge is a highly respected ..." She caught the glint in my eye. "That was mean! For a minute you had me worried. I mean, you really can't throw yourself at a man
Similar Books
