Read Online Jaded by Varina Denman - Free Book Online

considered whether Emily was trying to be nice or simply wanted to get out of the store and away from me.
    â€œThat girl’s a mess.” Velma rattled her shopping cart toward me. “Talked the Cunningham woman’s ears clean off.”
    I scanned a can of pork and beans as Velma lowered her voice. “The preacher’s mother seems like a nice lady, but you can’t judge the buttermilk by the color of the cow. Could still be soured.” She leaned toward me. “What are the sons like?”
    I pictured Dodd sitting on the corner of my desk, but I forced the image away with a shrug. “The same.”
    â€œBoy hidy,” Velma muttered. “I bet they caused fruit-basket turnover up at the school.”
    â€œYou’d have thought they were painted fluorescent orange the way everyone carried on.”
    She dug through her handbag. “You heard whether the kid’s playing ball?”
    â€œNo idea.” Her groceries filled six plastic bags. “You want me to call Luis to take these out for you? He’s hiding in the back.”
    â€œThat boy …” Velma reached across the counter to push the Talk button on the intercom. “Luis Vega, you get yourself out here and help an old woman with her bags, you hear?”
    At the back of the store, the swinging metal door slammed against the freezer case.
    â€œComing, Mizz Pickett!”
    Velma snapped her purse closed. “I’ll see you on Saturday, Ruthie. Peach cobbler.” Then she swept out the door, with Luis running to catch up.
    What would I do without Aunt Velma? Since my childhood, she had comforted my tears and praised my successes. She taught me to cook, enlightened me about the birds and the bees, and educated me on proper dating etiquette. My heart warmed as she stomped across the parking lot in her Crocs, and I turned to smile at my newest customer.
    Milla Cunningham eased her basket onto the counter, then clasped her hands at her waist. “You must be Ruthie.”
    A muscle on the side of my neck twitched.
    None of the employees at the United wore nametags—why would we?—so I wondered at her knowing my name. “Yes, ma’am.” I hurried with her groceries, setting my face in an expression of deep concentration as though I couldn’t be interrupted. It didn’t work.
    â€œI’m Milla Cunningham.”
    She waited for me to speak, and I racked my mind for something to say. You make me uncomfortable. What have you heard about me, other than my name? Would you mind shopping when I’m not on duty? I opted for something more civil. “Hi.”
    â€œI’ve heard about you.”
    That much was obvious.
    â€œFrom my sons,” she added. “They said they met you Friday night.”
    Her groceries fit into two bags, and I positioned them on the end of the counter. “That’ll be twenty dollars and seventy-six cents.”
    She scanned a debit card and punched in her PIN. “See you later, Ruthie.”
    â€œHave a good evening, ma’am.”
    I fiddled with the plastic-bag dispenser until she was out the door, and then I watched her walk to her car, a dark-red SUV. She was a pretty woman with a stylish haircut that immediately put her out of place in Trapp, but she wasn’t made up fake, and her pantsuit wasn’t overly fancy.
    She seemed harmless enough, but I wasn’t about to trust her. I couldn’t help remembering Velma’s buttermilk comment.
    Time would tell.

Chapter Eight
    JohnScott was the best cousin in the world. Even though I had yet to lay eyes on Clyde Felton, the rumors still made me nervous, and I saw no reason to risk running into the rapist on my own. So at closing time, my cousin picked me up again. As he eased his truck down Main Street, one hand on the steering wheel, the other lolling out the open window, he looked sideways at me. “What do you think of the new family?”
    Truth be told, the name