Read Online Southern Belle by Stuart Jaffe - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Stuart Jaffe
Tags: Fantasy, Paranormal, Magic, Mystery, Private Investigators, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, supernatural, Ghosts, Paranormal & Urban, Witches & Wizards, north carolina, winston salem
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anything happen to her."
Drummond said, "You know I'll protect her."
"I know. Thank you."
"Don't be so worried. Like the lovely lady said, we've been in scrapes before and we've helped each other out. Frankly, it'll be good to have her along. Trust me here — a woman like that keeps you grounded, keeps you from doing stupid things, keeps you safe."
Max noticed an odd tincture to Drummond's voice. "You knew a woman like that once?"
"You don't want to hear about that."
Bolting upright, Max said, "Of course I do. I'm always happy to hear anything you want to share."
"Oh." Drummond looked genuinely confused as if he never expected such an enthusiastic response. "Um, what do you want to know?"
"Anything. Who was she? How did you meet? Did you love her? Come on."
Squirming in mid-air, Drummond said, "There's nothing to tell. It's boring. And you don't tell me anything either. I don't know much about you and Sandra."
"What do you want to know?"
"Nothing. That's your private business."
For a second, Max thought Drummond might disappear into the Other — a ghost realm that resided in another plane of existence. He stayed, however. He pressed himself into the back corner, but he stayed. Max walked over to him and in a soothing tone, he said, "Maybe this is one of those differences between the era you lived in and the one we're in now."
"Your whole generation wants to share way too much." Though still in the corner, Drummond had regained his sturdy posture.
"It's a good way to build trust. You know as well as I do that we need to trust each other."
"All that we've been through already hasn't proven enough?"
"I trust you. Otherwise, I wouldn't be going out on this job tonight. But you can't have too much trust, and the more we know about each other, the better it'll be for our success in whatever we investigate." Max backed away. "I'll make it easy for you. Let me tell you about one of the first dates I ever had with Sandra."
"Why does that matter?"
"Just listen."
Doing little to hide his perturbed attitude, Drummond gestured for Max to begin.
"Now this wasn't our first date. I think it might've been our third or fourth. We'd both been recently burned — I'd been dumped and she had been cheated on — so we were taking things really slow. I hadn't even kissed her yet."
"Even by 1940s standards, that's ridiculous."
"Point is we were both gun shy. These people we cared about had betrayed us. Maybe you never had that problem, but I'll tell you, it throws you for a loop."
"I'm sure it does." Drummond looked to the bookcase, his eyes lingering on the whiskey book.
"So we go out to dinner, catch a movie, nothing out of the ordinary. A plain old date. I take her to her apartment and at the door, I pick up her hand and kiss it softly. We smiled at each other, and I'll never forget this — she said to me, 'Y'know, I appreciate how you've been with all this.' I knew right away what she meant. I told her that I understood. She said, 'We're never going to get over it unless we deal with it.' I agreed but I didn't know how to deal with it. She said she knew. She grabbed my head and kissed me hard. The next morning, I'm lying in her bed with her beautiful head nestled on my chest and I never had to worry again."
Drummond pointed right at Max's face. "If you think I'm sleeping with you to strengthen our trust, you're out of your mind."
They both laughed harder than necessary.
"You boys ready?" Sandra asked from the doorway.
They took one look at her and burst into genuine, raucous laughter.
Chapter 8
Ebert Road ran north and south starting below the city near Baptist Hospital and heading far down into Davidson County. The properties along this long stretch encompassed quaint starter homes and durable rentals, beat up double-wides and rundown farmhouses, as well as lovely middle-class homes and showy McMansions. Only the destitute and the ultra-wealthy went unrepresented. Dr. Matthew Ernest lived in a
Drummond said, "You know I'll protect her."
"I know. Thank you."
"Don't be so worried. Like the lovely lady said, we've been in scrapes before and we've helped each other out. Frankly, it'll be good to have her along. Trust me here — a woman like that keeps you grounded, keeps you from doing stupid things, keeps you safe."
Max noticed an odd tincture to Drummond's voice. "You knew a woman like that once?"
"You don't want to hear about that."
Bolting upright, Max said, "Of course I do. I'm always happy to hear anything you want to share."
"Oh." Drummond looked genuinely confused as if he never expected such an enthusiastic response. "Um, what do you want to know?"
"Anything. Who was she? How did you meet? Did you love her? Come on."
Squirming in mid-air, Drummond said, "There's nothing to tell. It's boring. And you don't tell me anything either. I don't know much about you and Sandra."
"What do you want to know?"
"Nothing. That's your private business."
For a second, Max thought Drummond might disappear into the Other — a ghost realm that resided in another plane of existence. He stayed, however. He pressed himself into the back corner, but he stayed. Max walked over to him and in a soothing tone, he said, "Maybe this is one of those differences between the era you lived in and the one we're in now."
"Your whole generation wants to share way too much." Though still in the corner, Drummond had regained his sturdy posture.
"It's a good way to build trust. You know as well as I do that we need to trust each other."
"All that we've been through already hasn't proven enough?"
"I trust you. Otherwise, I wouldn't be going out on this job tonight. But you can't have too much trust, and the more we know about each other, the better it'll be for our success in whatever we investigate." Max backed away. "I'll make it easy for you. Let me tell you about one of the first dates I ever had with Sandra."
"Why does that matter?"
"Just listen."
Doing little to hide his perturbed attitude, Drummond gestured for Max to begin.
"Now this wasn't our first date. I think it might've been our third or fourth. We'd both been recently burned — I'd been dumped and she had been cheated on — so we were taking things really slow. I hadn't even kissed her yet."
"Even by 1940s standards, that's ridiculous."
"Point is we were both gun shy. These people we cared about had betrayed us. Maybe you never had that problem, but I'll tell you, it throws you for a loop."
"I'm sure it does." Drummond looked to the bookcase, his eyes lingering on the whiskey book.
"So we go out to dinner, catch a movie, nothing out of the ordinary. A plain old date. I take her to her apartment and at the door, I pick up her hand and kiss it softly. We smiled at each other, and I'll never forget this — she said to me, 'Y'know, I appreciate how you've been with all this.' I knew right away what she meant. I told her that I understood. She said, 'We're never going to get over it unless we deal with it.' I agreed but I didn't know how to deal with it. She said she knew. She grabbed my head and kissed me hard. The next morning, I'm lying in her bed with her beautiful head nestled on my chest and I never had to worry again."
Drummond pointed right at Max's face. "If you think I'm sleeping with you to strengthen our trust, you're out of your mind."
They both laughed harder than necessary.
"You boys ready?" Sandra asked from the doorway.
They took one look at her and burst into genuine, raucous laughter.
Chapter 8
Ebert Road ran north and south starting below the city near Baptist Hospital and heading far down into Davidson County. The properties along this long stretch encompassed quaint starter homes and durable rentals, beat up double-wides and rundown farmhouses, as well as lovely middle-class homes and showy McMansions. Only the destitute and the ultra-wealthy went unrepresented. Dr. Matthew Ernest lived in a
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