Read Online Drop Dead Divas by Virginia Brown - Free Book Online Page A

heard myself blurt out, “maybe he was with Trina’s sister Trisha!”
    I hadn’t meant to say it, not really, but the back and forth between the two of them had driven me to it. Or maybe just having that choice bit of gossip was more than my resolve could take. Mama would be so disappointed.
    Both of them turned to look at me.
    “Trinket Truevine, what do you know that we don’t?” Bitty demanded.
    I gave up petting Jinx, who seemed to get over my defection quickly, and sat back down at the garden table. Tall glasses of lemonade had been served, and I took a drink of mine before I answered.
    “I’m not supposed to pass this on—”
    “I hope you don’t think for a minute you’ll get away with that,” said Bitty.
    I shook my head. “Of course not. I’m just explaining why I haven’t said anything until now. Mama told me not to.”
    “Aunt Anna said he was with Trisha?” Bitty sounded disbelieving and I couldn’t blame her. It’s not like my mother to gossip. Or didn’t used to be.
    “Apparently Mama witnessed Trina and Trisha arguing in the church parking lot on Atonement Day. She must have had a ringside seat, because she heard everything they said.”
    Bitty rolled her eyes. “That day was a disaster. I think it caused two divorces. But why didn’t I hear about Trina and Trisha’s argument before now? You’d think someone would have heard it besides Aunt Anna.”
    “If they did, they’ve kept it to themselves,” I said. “Anyway, Trina and Trisha both found out they were dating Race at the same time, and neither of them were happy about it.”
    “I’m not surprised.”
    “Mama said they went so far as hair-pulling.”
    “Was that a wig Trina was wearing?” Bitty wondered, looking from me to Rayna and back. “Maybe that’s why her hair looked so dreadful. And her make-up! She made me think of a circus clown, which was a bit scary. You know I’ve always been afraid of clowns.”
    Ignoring Bitty’s sidebar, Rayna said, “This is getting even more complicated. If we go under the assumption Naomi is innocent—which I don’t believe—then we have not one, but two more suspects who may have had reason to kill Race.”
    “Heavens,” said Bitty as she unlatched Chitling from her chest and lowered her to the grass, “even I had a reason to kill Race Champion. He was obnoxious. There now, my precious, go over there and poo-poo for Mommy.”
    The last was directed to the dog. I hope.
    “Bitty,” Rayna reproved, “you shouldn’t say things like that. Which reminds me, did you really tell Naomi Spencer that you want to strangle her?”
    Startled, Bitty looked up from depositing a reluctant pug on the garden lawn. “If you mean at Budgie’s, I didn’t get a chance to say it to her. I said it about her. How did you hear about it?”
    “Everyone in the café heard it, no doubt,” I said in annoyance. “I told you that your voice carries.”
    “Are you saying I have a big mouth?”
    I considered that for a moment, then shook my head. “Not any bigger than normal, I suppose.”
    “Somehow, that’s not very comforting. I think I’ve just been insulted.”
    I picked up a folded napkin and fanned myself with it. “My, my, it’s so vairy, vairy wahm out heah,” I said in an exaggerated southern drawl, which made Bitty smile in spite of herself. Since we were kids we’d used that trick to change subjects when in tight conversational spots.
    Just to keep us even, she said something rude to me, and we both smiled.
    Rayna shook her head. “You two are getting scary. Maybe it’s all this talk about murder. Let’s go inside where it’s cooler. I hate to think what the rest of summer will be like if it’s already this hot.”
    Summer in Mississippi is always hot. We just have varying degrees of hot. There is warm, such as afternoon temperatures in the eighties; there is hot, such as afternoon temperatures in the nineties; and then there is scorching, such as afternoon temps at the