Read Online Here Today, Gone Tamale by Rebecca Adler - Free Book Online Page A

needed our support.
    With a disdainful glance, Senora Mari pointed a bony finger toward the door. “I’m not the one who’s going to get thrown in the pokey.”
    Aunt Linda had the phone pinched between her shoulder and her ear while she wriggled her arm through the gap in the tape and inserted her key. “Eddie, I don’t care if you call the man in the moon. Johnson’s not available.”
    The door swung open.
    â€œThat deputy is going to be here any minute. What doyou think you’re doing?” Was I the only sane woman in our family?
    From the corner of my eye, I observed Senora Mari kneeling down next to the Dumpster. I turned to scold her and caught myself just in time. She closed her eyes, crossed herself, and prayed. Her lips moved, though no sound touched my ears.
    Turning back to my aunt, I found her twisted like a salted pretzel. She’d managed to slide one leg and two arms inside the tape without breaking it, but her shoulders and hips were having trouble.
    â€œCall me back when you get a quote.” She kept the phone in her hand as she pulled a Houdini, contorting the rest of body through the opening without disturbing a single yellow strip.
    â€œI’d appreciate it if you ladies would kindly back out of the crime scene without disturbing anything.”
    Aunt Linda turned, Senora Mari jumped to her feet with the vigor of a teenager, and I screamed like a little girl . . . again.
    Lightfoot’s jaw clenched and unclenched as his hands fisted and then relaxed.
    â€œWe didn’t mean any harm,” I said, hoping to appeal to the brief acquaintance we’d formed the night before. “This is my aunt, Linda Martinez.” I turned to her with a hint of formality. “Aunt Linda, meet Deputy Lightfoot. He and the sheriff questioned me last night.”
    By this time, Senora Mari had marched over to stand at his elbow. “Are you trying to arrest us?” She tilted back her head at a forty-five degree angle in a noble attempt to stare him down.
    He stepped back, and she followed. He raised his hand, palm out, to prevent her from invading his space any further. “Crime scene tape is to keep you out. It’s not an invitation to trespass.”
    â€œWhat do you mean trespass? This is our restaurant, and we’re opening in two hours!” Aunt Linda screeched. Just as suddenly, her eyes flew open to the size of dinner plates and her hand flew over her mouth in embarrassment.
    With a loud growl, a black and silver Harley pulled into the parking lot and came to a halt next to Dixie’s van. The black T-shirted rider in the back unfastened his helmet, slung a leg over the leather seat, and leaned in to give the driver an embarrassingly thorough kiss.
    â€œBye, lover,” his companion said, her raspy voice projecting innuendo, alcohol, and cigarettes to where the four of us stood dumbstruck. Before we could react, she secured the extra helmet, accelerated back into the street, and vroomed out of sight.
    Her passenger, Ty Honeycutt, gifted us with a wide grin and a nod before removing a key from his pocket and proceeding to unlock his Aunt Dixie’s van.
    As he slid into the driver’s seat, Lightfoot grabbed a hold of the door. “Where do you think you’re going?”
    â€œI think I’m headed to find that repo man and retrieve my Mustang.” He might have been in his late twenties, but it was hard to determine. What was apparent from the slurring of his words was that he was way too relaxed for eleven o’clock in the morning.
    The deputy placed a hand briefly on his holster. “Step away from the vehicle and keep your hands in sight at all times.”
    Tugging Senora Mari along with us, Aunt Linda and I scurried backwards until we hit the wall. We looked at each other in astonishment. I couldn’t recall ever seeing an officer in Broken Boot actually draw their weapon. What had Lightfoot so