Read Online Murder Boogies With Elvis by Anne George - Free Book Online
Authors: Anne George
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The Mooncloth guy, I mean.”
“Well, Larry didn’t, either, did he?”
“Says he never saw him before in his life. Wondered who the hell he was when he danced out onstage.”
“Strange.” I sipped the hot tea carefully.
“I told Virgil. I said, ‘Virgil, maybe it was someone with a bad case of Elvis envy.’”
“Elvis envy?” I nearly spat the tea out.
Sister frowned at my reaction.
“Elvis envy?” I repeated when I had swallowed safely. “Is this some kind of psychological problem that leads to violent behavior?”
“How should I know?”
I rubbed my forehead. I felt a headache beginning.
We both jumped when the doorbell rang. Mary Alicespilled tea on her Yul Brynner outfit and muttered, “Shit.”
“Who could that be?” I wondered.
“Probably a Girl Scout selling cookies. Isn’t this the time of the year?”
“In the pouring-down rain during school hours? You’re nuts.”
“Well, go see,”
For a moment I thought it might be Charles Boudreau, that he had followed me looking for Marilyn.
The bell rang again. For the second time that day I looked through a front-door peephole. This time I was delighted at what I saw. I opened the door to Officer Bo Mitchell of the Birmingham Police Department.
“Bo! Come in.” I started to hug her, but she held up her hand.
“I’m wet as a duck’s butt.” She stepped into the foyer. “You know, something just told me it was you when the call came in.”
“What call?”
“Breaking and entering. Burglary. Various and sundry. I told myself, I said, ‘Bo, if it’s various and sundry it’s going to be Patricia Anne and Mary Alice. You can bet on it.’”
“What are you talking about?”
“The burglar alarm, Patricia Anne. The one you have thirty seconds to enter the code for before we start calling, which we did and you didn’t answer.”
“Oh, shit.” I rushed back to the kitchen, opened the pantry door and punched 5-7-7-2.
“What’s the matter? Who is it?” Sister was standing at the sink rubbing her martial arts top with a wet paper towel.
Bo grinned at Sister’s outfit. “Shall we dance, dum dum dum?”
Sister twirled around. “Hey, Bo. I’m taking a martial arts class.”
“Good, you’re going to need it in prison because you’re under arrest for breaking and entering.”
“Damn. The burglar alarm? Why didn’t you call us?”
“We did. The phone’s disconnected.”
“That’s one more thing I need to do.” I reached in my purse, got out my little notebook, and wrote, Call phone company . “They’re coming home the first of April, Bo. And Haley’s pregnant.”
“Well, I declare.” She pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. “Boy or girl? Or does she know?”
“A girl.” I got another cup from the cabinet, filled it with water, and put it in the microwave. “Her name is Joanna because she was blessed by the pope.”
“Joanna Paula?”
“Hmm. I hadn’t thought about that.” I got a tea bag from the box. “Lemon Zest?”
She nodded and shrugged out of her raincoat.
“What have you been doing, Bo?” Sister asked, sitting down beside her.
“This afternoon? Fishing a dog out of Village Creek. Either of you want a dog? Woofer could use the company, Patricia Anne.”
“He’s too old to learn to share, Bo.” I handed her the cup of hot water and the tea bag.
“I think Joanie’s going to take him, anyway, if nobody claims him. He kissed her when she wrapped him up in a towel.”
“She’s not out in the car, is she?” Joanie Salk is Bo’spartner. Joanie is tall, thin, and white; Bo is short, plump, and black, though not as plump as she had been when we first met her. She has decided that she is going to be the first woman chief of police in Birmingham and has started working toward that goal. I think she’ll succeed.
“No. She’s taking a course at UAB. I dropped her off. She said to tell y’all hey.”
“You really knew it was us?” Sister asked.
Bo grinned and sipped
“Well, Larry didn’t, either, did he?”
“Says he never saw him before in his life. Wondered who the hell he was when he danced out onstage.”
“Strange.” I sipped the hot tea carefully.
“I told Virgil. I said, ‘Virgil, maybe it was someone with a bad case of Elvis envy.’”
“Elvis envy?” I nearly spat the tea out.
Sister frowned at my reaction.
“Elvis envy?” I repeated when I had swallowed safely. “Is this some kind of psychological problem that leads to violent behavior?”
“How should I know?”
I rubbed my forehead. I felt a headache beginning.
We both jumped when the doorbell rang. Mary Alicespilled tea on her Yul Brynner outfit and muttered, “Shit.”
“Who could that be?” I wondered.
“Probably a Girl Scout selling cookies. Isn’t this the time of the year?”
“In the pouring-down rain during school hours? You’re nuts.”
“Well, go see,”
For a moment I thought it might be Charles Boudreau, that he had followed me looking for Marilyn.
The bell rang again. For the second time that day I looked through a front-door peephole. This time I was delighted at what I saw. I opened the door to Officer Bo Mitchell of the Birmingham Police Department.
“Bo! Come in.” I started to hug her, but she held up her hand.
“I’m wet as a duck’s butt.” She stepped into the foyer. “You know, something just told me it was you when the call came in.”
“What call?”
“Breaking and entering. Burglary. Various and sundry. I told myself, I said, ‘Bo, if it’s various and sundry it’s going to be Patricia Anne and Mary Alice. You can bet on it.’”
“What are you talking about?”
“The burglar alarm, Patricia Anne. The one you have thirty seconds to enter the code for before we start calling, which we did and you didn’t answer.”
“Oh, shit.” I rushed back to the kitchen, opened the pantry door and punched 5-7-7-2.
“What’s the matter? Who is it?” Sister was standing at the sink rubbing her martial arts top with a wet paper towel.
Bo grinned at Sister’s outfit. “Shall we dance, dum dum dum?”
Sister twirled around. “Hey, Bo. I’m taking a martial arts class.”
“Good, you’re going to need it in prison because you’re under arrest for breaking and entering.”
“Damn. The burglar alarm? Why didn’t you call us?”
“We did. The phone’s disconnected.”
“That’s one more thing I need to do.” I reached in my purse, got out my little notebook, and wrote, Call phone company . “They’re coming home the first of April, Bo. And Haley’s pregnant.”
“Well, I declare.” She pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. “Boy or girl? Or does she know?”
“A girl.” I got another cup from the cabinet, filled it with water, and put it in the microwave. “Her name is Joanna because she was blessed by the pope.”
“Joanna Paula?”
“Hmm. I hadn’t thought about that.” I got a tea bag from the box. “Lemon Zest?”
She nodded and shrugged out of her raincoat.
“What have you been doing, Bo?” Sister asked, sitting down beside her.
“This afternoon? Fishing a dog out of Village Creek. Either of you want a dog? Woofer could use the company, Patricia Anne.”
“He’s too old to learn to share, Bo.” I handed her the cup of hot water and the tea bag.
“I think Joanie’s going to take him, anyway, if nobody claims him. He kissed her when she wrapped him up in a towel.”
“She’s not out in the car, is she?” Joanie Salk is Bo’spartner. Joanie is tall, thin, and white; Bo is short, plump, and black, though not as plump as she had been when we first met her. She has decided that she is going to be the first woman chief of police in Birmingham and has started working toward that goal. I think she’ll succeed.
“No. She’s taking a course at UAB. I dropped her off. She said to tell y’all hey.”
“You really knew it was us?” Sister asked.
Bo grinned and sipped
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