Read Online Plain Jane by Fern Michaels - Free Book Online Page B

title, in smaller letters, read Hang Loose.
    â€œAh . . . Trixie, you don’t bleed when you’re hanged.”
    â€œYou do if you pump a full round into someone first. We told the art department to hang him up, to make him a red herring. I love it! Fred thinks there’s a little too much blood.”
    â€œNah. Your readers would be disappointed without it. Do you have an extra copy I can give Mike? He’s a real fan of yours, read every one of your books.”
    â€œSure.” Trixie reached for another copy.
    â€œDon’t sign it. I don’t want him getting suspicious.” She stared at the book in her hand. “I couldn’t write a book if my life depended on it. My hat’s off to you, Trixie. Are you ever going to break your silence and comeout?”’
    â€œNever. They’d run me and Fred out of town on a rail. Anonymity works for us.”
    â€œWhat do the cops think you do? They must be suspicious since you hang with them so much.”
    â€œI tell them I write television cop scripts no one wants to buy. They can’t wait to share information with me. I guess everyone wants that fifteen minutes of fame. I did promise to dedicate the movie to the entire force if I was ever successful in selling a script.”
    â€œYou are so devious, Trixie. What are you going to do if someone catches on?”
    â€œIf they haven’t figured it out in fifty years, I don’t think I have too much to worry about. If they do, I’ll admit it and ’fess up.”
    Fred waddled into the kitchen, his shock of white hair tamed for the moment. “Janie girl, what are you doing up and out at the crack of dawn?”
    â€œCouldn’t sleep. I had this really weird dream.” She shook her head at the remembered images. “I figured I might as well get up and go for a run. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m putting on weight, again.” She hugged her affable godparent. “You smell good, Fred.”
    â€œI like to smell sweet for Trixie,” Fred said, laughing. His whole body shook. Jane had always thought he looked like Santa Claus with his white hair and white fluffy beard. His wire-rimmed glasses were the finishing touch. All he needed was a red suit and a black pair of shiny boots.
    â€œCoffee’s hot. Want some breakfast, honey?” Trixie asked.
    â€œI’ll take anything but a Pop-Tart. We’ve had them every day this week,” Fred grumbled, snapping his suspenders for emphasis.
    â€œHow about some frozen pancakes? I can zap them in the microwave or pop them in the toaster. You can put some of that good jelly on them and roll them up like crepes.” Trixie hopped off her chair and scooted for the fridge. “By the way, Fred,” she added offhandedly, “you’re two chapters behind me. Are you going to catch up today?”
    â€œI will if you don’t keep going astray. I thought we had Stuart’s character all settled. I don’t think he would say ‘lick me’ to anyone. Where did you hear something like that? I’m taking it out, sugar.”
    â€œDon’t you sugar me, Fred McGuire. You leave that phrase in there. That’s what people say today. I figured I had a choice of ‘fuck you’ or ‘lick me.’ I went with ‘lick me’ because it fit Stuart. If you don’t believe me, ask Janie,” Trixie said, hands on her hips, her eyes sparking.
    Jane put her hands up in front of her. “I don’t know anything about fiction writing but whatever is indicative of the character is what you always say, Fred. I think I would go with the ‘lick me’ as opposed to the other phrase.”
    â€œHe’s getting old, Janie,” Trixie said with a wink. “He doesn’t know the half of what’s going on in the world. When you sit around a police station all day, you hear all kinds of stuff. A writer has to stay up on what’s going