Bones on the Bayou: A Sarah Booth Delaney Mystery Short Story Read Online Free Page B

“Wildene, whose naughty list are you topping this year? I saw you at The Club. You charmed the socks off that Italian stud.”
    I had to hand it to Harold, he was a smooth operator.
    “Enzo was a wonderful diversion, for the afternoon.” She flicked her hand as if he were a troublesome fly. “Haven’t seen him since.”
    I took note of her long, dark hair and the coral lipstick that appeared to be her signature. “I thought I saw you and Enzo leave together,” I said sweetly. “He is a handsome devil. How much did you have to pay him for his…time”
    “You saw no such thing.” She brushed past me. “I haven’t seen Enzo since the party, and I didn’t leave with him. Why would I?”
    “I heard you were fulfilling his shopping list for his wife and children back in Venice.” I smiled. “What did you find for his wife?”
    “Earrings,” she said. “Black opals. Enzo loved them.”
    “What’s the story with Oscar?” Harold asked. “Did he hire you to shop for Tinkie?”
    The slyness of a fox crept into her eyes. “What gave you an idea like that?” she asked. 
    “Oh, someone saw the two of you driving around in his SUV, and I assumed it involved Christmas shopping.” Harold picked up a lacy black thong. “This would suit you well, Sarah Booth.”
    I almost choked, but was quick enough to cover my reaction. Wildene looked from the panties to me, her lip curling. “Do those come in her size?”
    Okay, she wouldn’t talk so pretty through a busted lip.
    Harold chuckled. “Wildene, you’ve worked for the stick people too long. A woman with curves is a lush pleasure.” He licked the corner of his mouth, “Surely by now you know what men like. Speaking of which, I have a list, and I’m late selecting gifts this year. Would you have time to do a little shopping for me?”
    “Of course.” She almost sniffed the air for the satisfying smell of money. “I charge twenty percent of whatever gift I select. And I don’t return gifts. If you don’t like one, you have to take it back yourself.” She sidled up to Harold. “But I’ve never had a man dislike anything I offered him.”
    “I can see why,” Harold replied.
    I stepped on the back of his heel, but he ignored me.
    “Sarah Booth, would you mind jogging over to Millie’s and putting in an order for a hamburger steak for me, and whatever you want for yourself. I’ll join you there shortly.”
    I had no choice but to smile and nod as I shuffled out the door like Step-and-Fetch-It. Harold wanted an empty playing field to tackle Wildene, still, he would pay at a later date.
    The café was two blocks down the street. The afternoon lull had struck Millie’s, the magical time between lunch and before the teenagers piled into the café booths after school. I placed Harold’s order and put in my own.
    “You only want turnips and cornbread?” Millie asked.
    “I crave some properly cooked greens. I know you buy yours fresh from Mr. Hobby.”
    “Any sign of Enzo?” Millie asked as she sat down. She clutched a tabloid in her hand. “He’s something of a hell raiser. He was in Miami for a tradeshow and an angry fiancé shot at him and barely missed. Seems like he can’t keep his hands off women, especially those attached to someone else.”
    “If he can get the milk free, why not let someone else feed and clothe the cow.” It wasn’t exactly the way Aunt Loulane said it, but I got the point across. “Single women might have expectations. A married woman, or one involved in a relationship, has as much reason to be discreet as Enzo does.”
    “He’s not what I would call discreet.” She pushed the tabloid my way.
    “Italian Lover Flees For His Life.” The story had an illustration of a mustached man pulling up his pants and fleeing as a bullet whizzed past his head. The story went on to detail Enzo’s conquest of a young woman at a Miami tradeshow. Her fiancé showed up unexpectedly, caught them in the act, and chased a naked Enzo