Read Online Lousiana Hotshot by Julie Smith - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Julie Smith
Ads: Link
artist.”
“Is there any description on him?”
“Uh-uh. Just black, average build, probably in his twenties. Two of them in one car, which was a medium-sized beige job.” He paused and rubbed his head. “Cassandra might be staying with one of her little girlfriends— maybe we could get their numbers from her school. Ya want to call ‘em for me?”
Talba looked at her watch. “School’s already out.”
Eddie shrugged, but she thought she saw a tiny tightening in the lines between his eye. “Oh, well. Maybe her mama’ll call me.”
“Are you going to tell the police about Cassandra?”
“I don’t think yet. It’s a long way from havin’ sex with a teenager to killin’ somebody. Think about it— you ever have sex when you were fourteen?” He looked horrified at what he’d said. “I mean, uh, excuse me, I was thinkin’ out loud.”
Talba had to laugh. “Sixteen. With a boy who was nineteen. My mama found out about it, and there was hell to pay. And then, what do you know, the same thing happened all over again, with another boy.”
“Anybody go to jail or get killed?”
“Uh-uh. It was more like a tempest in a teapot.”
“Yeah. So I think maybe we’ll leave the police option up to Ms. Scott, if we ever find her. Ya get anything on Rhonda?”
“Just a DUI. I printed out the stuff on her and everybody else I could think of.” She handed him the package.
He nodded briefly, letting her know he’d heard and wasn’t much interested. “I need ya to do something for me.” He looked like he was about to fall over.
“Sure, Eddie. Look, you think you should go home or something?”
“I’m goin.’ Oh, yeah, I’m goin’. Headache like this can last two days.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I need ya to go to the funeral. And the visitation if there is one.”
“Me? Without my license?”
“Ehhh, maybe it’ll come tomorrow. I probably crossed the line
already
lettin’ you make that appointment with Ms. Terrell. But it’s the same thing again— you’d fit in, I’d stick out.”
She couldn’t resist interrupting him. “How on earth did you get along without me?”
He didn’t dignify that with a response, not even a tilt of an eyebrow. “You won’t be workin’, if you catch my drift.” He held out a pair of palms-up, innocent hands. “Anybody can go to a funeral.”
He didn’t come in the next day. A great day, she thought, to work on his website— she’d surprise him when he came back. Not that that’s all there was— Eileen popped in about ten with an armful of files. “Mostly employment checks,” she said. “He said to have you work on them. Oh, and Angie called for your address— I said I’d call her back. Okay if I give it to her?”
Talba was puzzled. “Sure, but why would she need it?”
“She wants to send you an invitation to Eddie’s sixty-fifth birthday party. Are you free Saturday after next? March twentieth, I think it is. Angie’s throwin’ it, so you
know
it’s gonna be nice.”
“I’m flattered. I hardly know him.”
“Angie likes you. And also, uh… it’s going to be, like, a roast. She thought you could maybe… um… I know she wouldn’t come out and say it, but I
think
she’s kind of thinkin’,
you
know…”
Talba finally got it. “She wants me to write a poem? Well, now I’m really flattered.”
Eileen smiled.
“Let’s see, I think it’s going to be about the bags under his eyes.”
Eileen left, tittering politely.
She thinks I’m kidding,
Talba thought to herself.
A rap, maybe. I’ve never done one.
***
No visitation was announced for Rhonda Bergeron, which struck Talba as strange for a girl as young as she was, as vital as she must have been. But she knew little about such things— perhaps the body had been cremated, and there’d been a private wake (or whatever Methodists called it) at Rhonda’s parents’ house. It occurred to her to bake a cake and take it over there. She could say she’d met
“Is there any description on him?”
“Uh-uh. Just black, average build, probably in his twenties. Two of them in one car, which was a medium-sized beige job.” He paused and rubbed his head. “Cassandra might be staying with one of her little girlfriends— maybe we could get their numbers from her school. Ya want to call ‘em for me?”
Talba looked at her watch. “School’s already out.”
Eddie shrugged, but she thought she saw a tiny tightening in the lines between his eye. “Oh, well. Maybe her mama’ll call me.”
“Are you going to tell the police about Cassandra?”
“I don’t think yet. It’s a long way from havin’ sex with a teenager to killin’ somebody. Think about it— you ever have sex when you were fourteen?” He looked horrified at what he’d said. “I mean, uh, excuse me, I was thinkin’ out loud.”
Talba had to laugh. “Sixteen. With a boy who was nineteen. My mama found out about it, and there was hell to pay. And then, what do you know, the same thing happened all over again, with another boy.”
“Anybody go to jail or get killed?”
“Uh-uh. It was more like a tempest in a teapot.”
“Yeah. So I think maybe we’ll leave the police option up to Ms. Scott, if we ever find her. Ya get anything on Rhonda?”
“Just a DUI. I printed out the stuff on her and everybody else I could think of.” She handed him the package.
He nodded briefly, letting her know he’d heard and wasn’t much interested. “I need ya to do something for me.” He looked like he was about to fall over.
“Sure, Eddie. Look, you think you should go home or something?”
“I’m goin.’ Oh, yeah, I’m goin’. Headache like this can last two days.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I need ya to go to the funeral. And the visitation if there is one.”
“Me? Without my license?”
“Ehhh, maybe it’ll come tomorrow. I probably crossed the line
already
lettin’ you make that appointment with Ms. Terrell. But it’s the same thing again— you’d fit in, I’d stick out.”
She couldn’t resist interrupting him. “How on earth did you get along without me?”
He didn’t dignify that with a response, not even a tilt of an eyebrow. “You won’t be workin’, if you catch my drift.” He held out a pair of palms-up, innocent hands. “Anybody can go to a funeral.”
He didn’t come in the next day. A great day, she thought, to work on his website— she’d surprise him when he came back. Not that that’s all there was— Eileen popped in about ten with an armful of files. “Mostly employment checks,” she said. “He said to have you work on them. Oh, and Angie called for your address— I said I’d call her back. Okay if I give it to her?”
Talba was puzzled. “Sure, but why would she need it?”
“She wants to send you an invitation to Eddie’s sixty-fifth birthday party. Are you free Saturday after next? March twentieth, I think it is. Angie’s throwin’ it, so you
know
it’s gonna be nice.”
“I’m flattered. I hardly know him.”
“Angie likes you. And also, uh… it’s going to be, like, a roast. She thought you could maybe… um… I know she wouldn’t come out and say it, but I
think
she’s kind of thinkin’,
you
know…”
Talba finally got it. “She wants me to write a poem? Well, now I’m really flattered.”
Eileen smiled.
“Let’s see, I think it’s going to be about the bags under his eyes.”
Eileen left, tittering politely.
She thinks I’m kidding,
Talba thought to herself.
A rap, maybe. I’ve never done one.
***
No visitation was announced for Rhonda Bergeron, which struck Talba as strange for a girl as young as she was, as vital as she must have been. But she knew little about such things— perhaps the body had been cremated, and there’d been a private wake (or whatever Methodists called it) at Rhonda’s parents’ house. It occurred to her to bake a cake and take it over there. She could say she’d met
Similar Books
