Read Online Now Let's Talk of Graves by Sarah Shankman - Free Book Online

spittle.
    “Now, Church, you’ve met Sam before. Don’t you remember?”
    And suddenly it struck Sam that their most recent meeting had been this evening. “Did I dance with you earlier at the Comus ball? You were masked?” she asked.
    “Well, darlin’!” His fumy laugh was booming, expansive. “I certainly couldn’t tell you that. Though I certainly was at the ball. Did you see my baby girl? My Zoe?”
    “I did indeed. She was absolutely beautiful.” Sam paused. “But I could swear it was you.”
    He leaned over, whispered slyly, “Comus secrets always secret.”
    Now close behind Church followed a round, doll-faced man with wavy blond hair. He extended his hand. “Howdy, howdy. I’m Tench Young.”
    Church said to Kitty, “Haven’t even brought Samantha around. You that ashamed of your brother?”
    “Don’t be silly, we were over earlier this evening, but you weren’t home. Now, why don’t you and Mr. Young sit down? You know Harry Zack?”
    “Know him?” thundered Tench Young in that hearty manner of some Southern men, as if he were about to hand you a check for a million dollars. “Harry here’s my nephew!”
    “Oh, I’m sorry, I’d for—”
    “My right-hand man. He’s working for me. Even as we speak!”
    “You selling insurance, Harry?” Kitty grinned at him. “You here writing policies for wives think the old man won’t make it through the night?”
    “Chief bottle-washer,” Harry muttered.
    Sam watched the flush creep up his neck. His uncle was embarrassing him.
    “Nose like a bloodhound,” Young roared. “Nothing you can hide from that boy. Doing investigations for me. Saves me a shitload—’scuse me, ladies—of money. Kind of young man I want to have on my team. Bring him up in the company. Take over from me someday—when I get all those little fillies of mine married off. Sad, you know, man has no sons.” Young reached across the table and slapped Harry on the back, in the process spilling Sam’s drink. “Oh, I’m so sorry, my dear.”
    Sam dabbed at the water on her turquoise silk while politely brushing away his apologies. She ought to have known better than to get all dolled up for a bunch of drunks, she thought. Saran Wrap would have been more appropriate, or combat boots and a raincoat.
    Harry was handing her his handkerchief. “Hope you didn’t ruin your pretty dress.”
    “Thanks. It’s just water. It’ll be okay.”
    “Do you want me to—”
    But she never heard what he was going to offer. Another wave of merrymakers crowded into the room, drawing everyone’s attention.
    Tench Young punched Church in the arm and pointed. “Hey, bubba. There’s your friend, Maynard Dupree.”
    Church turned, frowning in the direction Tench pointed. “That son of a bitch,” he growled. “Look at him. Too bad he didn’t fall off that horse in the parade and break his neck. All dressed up in his captain costume, looked like a fool trying to be Roy Rogers. Did you see his horse rear up, bucking like a bastard in front of the reviewing stand? Zoe waving her little hand off. Thank God he didn’t have the grit to block her being queen. I would have shot him.”
    “Now, watch yourself, son,” Tench said, laughing up at his tall friend. Then he turned back to the table. “Every time Church sees that old boy Maynard Dupree, he gets all pushed out of shape. I’ve warned Church to stay away from him. Makes his blood pressure shoot right up and I cain’t afford for this ol’ hoss”—he squeezed Church’s arm—“to be kicking the bucket. Not with all the insurance I’m carrying on him.”
    Church laughed, showing lots of pearly teeth. “Don’t you worry about me,” he said. Sam noticed the humor didn’t extend above his mouth. His eyes were somewhere else. They looked like they were seeing something awful. Then he focused back into the room. “It’s not my health I’m worried about. It’s going to the po’house.” He laughed his big empty laugh