Blue Blood: A Debutante Dropout Mystery Read Online Free

waited for one or the other to say something, but neither did. I was rather proud of myself. Heck, I didn’t read Erle Stanley Gardner for nothing.
    “And if it’s all right with you, could I have a minute alone with my, uh, sister?” I asked, directing my plea at Taylor, who seemed to be in the driver’s seat. Her partner hadn’t yet uttered more than a grunt. “Please?”
    With a sigh, she gestured toward an empty desk well within earshot. Once Molly and I had seated ourselves, I leaned close to her and whispered, “Tell me everything.” I wanted to know exactly what I’d gotten myself into.
    First, she made me promise to take care of her boy, and I swore that I would. She gave me directions to her place and made sure I wrote them down. Then she snapped a tissue from a box on the desk and began to shred it. “I don’t know where to start.”
    I thought of the Game of Life and how often she and I had played it on the rug in my room at the house on Beverly when Mother had let her spend the night. Then I quietly urged her, “Start at Go.”
    She stopped fiddling with the tissue, drew in a deep breath, and met my eyes. “I stayed late to help him close.”
    “Bud,” I said, and she nodded.
    “Bud Hartman,” she clarified, her voice so low I strained to hear. “He owns Jugs.” A flush spread upward from her collar, and I realized why. The place was well known in North Dallas, what with all the controversy it stirred up. I’d always thought of it as a hangout for macho men who believed they were better than their counterparts who hit the strip clubs.
    “He’s a pig,” she ground out, then hastily added, “I mean, he was a pig.”
    “Did he harass you?”
    “You could say that.” She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “Bud hit on anything that moved. He was like an octopus, you know? All arms. You had to be quick on your feet, or look out.” Her mouth quivered and her chin dropped. She stared down at her shoes. “Guess I didn’t dance fast enough this time.”
    I saw the tear that splattered on the linoleum near her sneaker, and I knew I’d better forge ahead before she completely choked up. “Tell me what happened after everyone else left the restaurant. Do you usually close up with Bud?”
    “No, it wasn’t my turn, but Julie said she was feeling sick during the shift and took off early.”
    “Julie?”
    “Julie Costello. She used to be a cheerleader for the Cowboys, but got busted for fraternizing with the players. She and Bud had a thing going, though he wasn’t what I’d call faithful. I doubt she was either.”
    Molly paused, chewed her lip, then continued slowly.
    “I put the cash from the day’s take into the bank bag, just like we’re supposed to, and I left it on Bud’s desk. He liked to make out the deposit slip himself, so I didn’t total it up except in my head. There must’ve been four or five thousand, at least. All those protestors just seem to make the place more popular.” She toyed with the tissue. “Like I said, I took the bag to his office and set it on the desk, then I went to the lockers to change. He’d shut off most of the lights, so it was pretty dark. I didn’t know where he was until I’d finished dressing and turned to go. He was there, Andy. Watching me.”
    Her pupils widened like a cat’s, and I noted the twitch of muscles at her jaw. “All I wanted was to get home to my kid, but apparently he had other plans.” The slim hands clenched the Kleenex so hard her knuckles blanched. “He came after me, Andy. I was scared shitless.” She swallowed, and her neck quivered. “He had me pinned against the kitchen counter, and he started kissing me.” She stared off somewhere past my shoulder, seeing things that I couldn’t. “I got hold of a knife.” Her voice got lower, softer, quicker. “I lashed out at him.”
    “Did you cut him?” I asked, reaching for her hands and holding them. They were trembling.
    “Maybe . . . yes.” She closed her