Read Online This Little Piggy Went to Murder by Ellen Hart - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ellen Hart
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found herself staring at the top of his head.
Following her eyes, Sydney robbed his balding crown and replied, “Lost my hair years ago. Yup. Sure did. But I gained this.” He patted his belly. “Not a fair trade, but then life isn’t. You’ve grown up a little since the last time I saw you, too.” He smirked. “But you’re still short.”
“Thanks.” Under her breath she whispered, “And you’re still a charmer.”
He walked around behind the car and opened the trunk, lifting out a torn leather suitcase held together by a piece of thick hemp rope. He let it drop to the ground with a thunk.
“This is my husband,” she said, realizing she was staring again. “Bram Baldric.”
“Glad to meet you, Bram.” Sydney thrust out his hand.
Bram grabbed it, nearly getting his arm ripped from its socket. .
“Luther didn’t tell us you were coming,” said Sophie.
Sydney smiled with perfect insincerity and leaned back against the fender. “That’s ’cause he didn’t know. This is a surprise.” He almost giggled. “It’s been a lot of years since I last set foot in that cave. I thought it was about time old Sydney livened things up a bit. Besides,” he added, arching a serious eyebrow, “I’ve got some unfinished business I need to take care of. It shouldn’t take me long and I’ll be on my way.” He glanced at Bram. “Luther and Jack and I are old buddies from Nam. Old war amigos never die. Sort of like ex-wives.” He snorted at his own joke.
Sophie poked Bram in the ribs to stop him from rolling his eyes.
“Well, so.” He stroked the hood of the car. “She’s a beaut, ain’t she? Bought her the day before I left Fort Wayne.”
“Did you just get into town today?”
“Barely minutes ago. I thought, hell, why waste time? I gotta get out there and see my old buddies. Are they here?”
“Luther is,” answered Sophie. “Jack was here earlier but had to go back to town.”
“No matter.” His voice was creamy. “I’ll get to him, sooner or later.” He noticed Bram eyeing the car. “Wanna see inside?”
“That’s all right,” said Bram. “Another time.”
“Nah, it’s okay. Maybe the little lady should go first.” He opened the door and stepped away, giving a bow. “Come on, don’t be shy. Look at those gorgeous plush seats.”
He was like a car salesman from hell. Sophie peeked inside. The interior reeked of rancid smoke and sour sweat, all mixed together with the unmistakable aroma of a brand new car. The floor and seat were littered with empty bags of potato chips, and crushed cans of pop. Under a soiled shirt, she noticed a Duluth newspaper. That was interesting. She recognized it immediately as yesterday’s front page, the one announcing the death of Lars Olson. How did Sydney get hold of a day-old paper? The
Duluth Daily News
wasn’t generally sold outside of Minnesota. Unless? Had he been in town longer than he was letting on? Why would he lie? She pulled her head out. “Very nice!”
Sydney beamed. “Yeah. Well, I gotta clean up some of the crap from the drive, but she’s a winner, all right.” He stroked the fender lovingly. “Your turn now,” he said, turning to Bram.
Bram poked his head inside. “A lovely car,” he pronounced, using his deep, resonant radio voice. Smiling boyishly, Sydney slammed the door and picked up his luggage. “I see Amanda’s still quite the gardener.” He shot a patronizing glance at the luxurious flower beds that circled the house. “Things never change. Silly hobby, if you ask me. Well, I suppose it’s time I go knock on the front door. Sends chills up your spine, don’t it? Old friends reuniting.” He roared with laughter. Whistling the Navy anthem, he charged up the slope and disappeared around the front of the house.
8
The Mudlark Bar was in a strange building that stood several hundred feet back from the road. The original
Following her eyes, Sydney robbed his balding crown and replied, “Lost my hair years ago. Yup. Sure did. But I gained this.” He patted his belly. “Not a fair trade, but then life isn’t. You’ve grown up a little since the last time I saw you, too.” He smirked. “But you’re still short.”
“Thanks.” Under her breath she whispered, “And you’re still a charmer.”
He walked around behind the car and opened the trunk, lifting out a torn leather suitcase held together by a piece of thick hemp rope. He let it drop to the ground with a thunk.
“This is my husband,” she said, realizing she was staring again. “Bram Baldric.”
“Glad to meet you, Bram.” Sydney thrust out his hand.
Bram grabbed it, nearly getting his arm ripped from its socket. .
“Luther didn’t tell us you were coming,” said Sophie.
Sydney smiled with perfect insincerity and leaned back against the fender. “That’s ’cause he didn’t know. This is a surprise.” He almost giggled. “It’s been a lot of years since I last set foot in that cave. I thought it was about time old Sydney livened things up a bit. Besides,” he added, arching a serious eyebrow, “I’ve got some unfinished business I need to take care of. It shouldn’t take me long and I’ll be on my way.” He glanced at Bram. “Luther and Jack and I are old buddies from Nam. Old war amigos never die. Sort of like ex-wives.” He snorted at his own joke.
Sophie poked Bram in the ribs to stop him from rolling his eyes.
“Well, so.” He stroked the hood of the car. “She’s a beaut, ain’t she? Bought her the day before I left Fort Wayne.”
“Did you just get into town today?”
“Barely minutes ago. I thought, hell, why waste time? I gotta get out there and see my old buddies. Are they here?”
“Luther is,” answered Sophie. “Jack was here earlier but had to go back to town.”
“No matter.” His voice was creamy. “I’ll get to him, sooner or later.” He noticed Bram eyeing the car. “Wanna see inside?”
“That’s all right,” said Bram. “Another time.”
“Nah, it’s okay. Maybe the little lady should go first.” He opened the door and stepped away, giving a bow. “Come on, don’t be shy. Look at those gorgeous plush seats.”
He was like a car salesman from hell. Sophie peeked inside. The interior reeked of rancid smoke and sour sweat, all mixed together with the unmistakable aroma of a brand new car. The floor and seat were littered with empty bags of potato chips, and crushed cans of pop. Under a soiled shirt, she noticed a Duluth newspaper. That was interesting. She recognized it immediately as yesterday’s front page, the one announcing the death of Lars Olson. How did Sydney get hold of a day-old paper? The
Duluth Daily News
wasn’t generally sold outside of Minnesota. Unless? Had he been in town longer than he was letting on? Why would he lie? She pulled her head out. “Very nice!”
Sydney beamed. “Yeah. Well, I gotta clean up some of the crap from the drive, but she’s a winner, all right.” He stroked the fender lovingly. “Your turn now,” he said, turning to Bram.
Bram poked his head inside. “A lovely car,” he pronounced, using his deep, resonant radio voice. Smiling boyishly, Sydney slammed the door and picked up his luggage. “I see Amanda’s still quite the gardener.” He shot a patronizing glance at the luxurious flower beds that circled the house. “Things never change. Silly hobby, if you ask me. Well, I suppose it’s time I go knock on the front door. Sends chills up your spine, don’t it? Old friends reuniting.” He roared with laughter. Whistling the Navy anthem, he charged up the slope and disappeared around the front of the house.
8
The Mudlark Bar was in a strange building that stood several hundred feet back from the road. The original
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