Read Online Pearls and Poison (A Consignment Shop Mystery) by Duffy Brown - Free Book Online
Authors: Duffy Brown
Ads: Link
and buried more than that man. He was evil clear through to the bone. Amen, hallelujah, and good riddance, I say.”
Lolly headed for her car, and BW gave the yard a good sniffing in search of squirrels, rabbits, or chipmunks daring to invade his space. Boone said Scumbucket had enemies. I never considered the fact that Lolly was one of those enemies and working on Mamma’s campaign to make sure Scumbucket didn’t get elected as alderman.
I went back inside to finally enjoy a moment of peace and quiet till I heard the printer grinding away in the parlor and found Marigold Haber sitting alone at one of the long tables stuffing envelopes. “You should be the one running for office considering all the hours you put in on this campaign,” I said to her.
“Oh, Lordy, no. Put a microphone in front of me, and I sound like a cracked record. Besides, Butler’s a dinner-on-the-table-at-five and did-you-pick-up-my-blue-suit-at-the-cleaners kind of husband.”
“Honey, it’s after five.”
“Imagine that.” Marigold forced a tight smile, but her eyes looked more sad than happy. “Where does the time go?” Seemed like she meant that for more than just today. She turned off the printer and snagged a handful of flyers and her black purse that was showing a bit of wear.
“I’m off to see your mamma,” she said. “We’re going to win this here election if it’s the last thing I do. Gloria deserves it, she’s worked hard all her life, and I’m going to make it happen for both our sakes. See you tomorrow, honey, and pick out something a little more fashionable than shoes held together with glue. You can see it oozing right out the side.”
Business picked up a bit without the hubbub of the campaign buzzing in the background. As I scurried around taking in clothes to consign and ringing up sales, I thought about the good old days that were less than twenty-four hours ago. Life turned on a dime . . . or a honey bourbon bottle.
At eight sharp two honks at the curb heralded Chantilly’s arrival, and I hurried out to the Jeep idling under the streetlight. “Great outfit,” I said as I climbed in, eyeing Chantilly’s green skirt, short boots, and tan suede jacket. “Win the lottery?”
The Jeep turned for Abercorn, night settling in over the city and tucking it in for the night. “It’s part of last year’s splurge when I was gainfully employed with UPS. I so need a job. I go on interviews, and employers take one look at me and say, ‘Hey, you’re that girl.’ Being tied to Simon’s murder isn’t helping my chances one little bit.”
Riding a horse naked on YouTube didn’t enhance Chantilly’s resume much either, but she felt bad enough at the moment without me throwing that in the mix.
“I told Pillsbury you and I were headed for the Cemetery,” Chantilly added. “Said he’d stop on by, doesn’t want anyone infringing on his territory. That means me. Isn’t that the sweetest thing you ever heard? And another big reason I need a job. I need rent. Moving back in with my parents is out of the question. If ex-cop daddy gets wind of Pillsbury and me together, that there conflict with the Yankees a while back will look like a tiny skirmish in comparison.”
“Your daddy thinks you sit home knitting?”
“Told him I was dating an accountant and that part happens to be the God’s honest truth. Pillsbury’s a full-fledged certified public accountant for Pete’s sake. What more could Daddy ask for, right?”
“That Pillsbury’s
public
wasn’t the Seventeenth Street gang? But then I married Hollis the horse’s patoot when everyone told me not to, so I’m not one to be giving advice or throwing stones.”
Chantilly found a parking spot, and we hoofed it the few blocks to the bar. The Cemetery was old as dirt. Many moons ago Sherman’s soldiers downed a few pints at the place, and more than one wound up poisoned, buried in the basement, and left wandering the halls of this fine establishment to
Lolly headed for her car, and BW gave the yard a good sniffing in search of squirrels, rabbits, or chipmunks daring to invade his space. Boone said Scumbucket had enemies. I never considered the fact that Lolly was one of those enemies and working on Mamma’s campaign to make sure Scumbucket didn’t get elected as alderman.
I went back inside to finally enjoy a moment of peace and quiet till I heard the printer grinding away in the parlor and found Marigold Haber sitting alone at one of the long tables stuffing envelopes. “You should be the one running for office considering all the hours you put in on this campaign,” I said to her.
“Oh, Lordy, no. Put a microphone in front of me, and I sound like a cracked record. Besides, Butler’s a dinner-on-the-table-at-five and did-you-pick-up-my-blue-suit-at-the-cleaners kind of husband.”
“Honey, it’s after five.”
“Imagine that.” Marigold forced a tight smile, but her eyes looked more sad than happy. “Where does the time go?” Seemed like she meant that for more than just today. She turned off the printer and snagged a handful of flyers and her black purse that was showing a bit of wear.
“I’m off to see your mamma,” she said. “We’re going to win this here election if it’s the last thing I do. Gloria deserves it, she’s worked hard all her life, and I’m going to make it happen for both our sakes. See you tomorrow, honey, and pick out something a little more fashionable than shoes held together with glue. You can see it oozing right out the side.”
Business picked up a bit without the hubbub of the campaign buzzing in the background. As I scurried around taking in clothes to consign and ringing up sales, I thought about the good old days that were less than twenty-four hours ago. Life turned on a dime . . . or a honey bourbon bottle.
At eight sharp two honks at the curb heralded Chantilly’s arrival, and I hurried out to the Jeep idling under the streetlight. “Great outfit,” I said as I climbed in, eyeing Chantilly’s green skirt, short boots, and tan suede jacket. “Win the lottery?”
The Jeep turned for Abercorn, night settling in over the city and tucking it in for the night. “It’s part of last year’s splurge when I was gainfully employed with UPS. I so need a job. I go on interviews, and employers take one look at me and say, ‘Hey, you’re that girl.’ Being tied to Simon’s murder isn’t helping my chances one little bit.”
Riding a horse naked on YouTube didn’t enhance Chantilly’s resume much either, but she felt bad enough at the moment without me throwing that in the mix.
“I told Pillsbury you and I were headed for the Cemetery,” Chantilly added. “Said he’d stop on by, doesn’t want anyone infringing on his territory. That means me. Isn’t that the sweetest thing you ever heard? And another big reason I need a job. I need rent. Moving back in with my parents is out of the question. If ex-cop daddy gets wind of Pillsbury and me together, that there conflict with the Yankees a while back will look like a tiny skirmish in comparison.”
“Your daddy thinks you sit home knitting?”
“Told him I was dating an accountant and that part happens to be the God’s honest truth. Pillsbury’s a full-fledged certified public accountant for Pete’s sake. What more could Daddy ask for, right?”
“That Pillsbury’s
public
wasn’t the Seventeenth Street gang? But then I married Hollis the horse’s patoot when everyone told me not to, so I’m not one to be giving advice or throwing stones.”
Chantilly found a parking spot, and we hoofed it the few blocks to the bar. The Cemetery was old as dirt. Many moons ago Sherman’s soldiers downed a few pints at the place, and more than one wound up poisoned, buried in the basement, and left wandering the halls of this fine establishment to
Similar Books
