Braking for Bodies Read Online Free

dress.”
    â€œIsn’t there something about you and a black cloud?”
    I jutted my chin. “There is no cloud.”
Maybe.
“I’ll meet Idle and straighten things out.” I gave Sutter a hard look and tried to retie the pink bow so it didn’t look like a teething two-year-old did it. “I just saved you from the L.A. crazy woman, so you owe me. Promise you’ll keep this . . .”
    â€œFiasco?”
    â€œIncident to yourself.”
    â€œYou want me to lie to my mother?”
    â€œJust don’t say anything, okay, and don’t comeanywhere near the Grand because that will cause attention and she’ll find out because no one around here can keep their mouth shut.”
    Sutter made a cross over his heart and added, “I bet it’s the cloud.” He retied the pink bow to perfection, then took off. When I got back to the bike shop, I stashed the second Brides and Bliss box around back, slapped a perky innocent-as-a-lamb smile on my face and went inside to face Irma.
    â€œWhere have you been?” she wanted to know. “And where are the paint cans?”
    Holy freaking cow! The paint. “Wrong color.”
    â€œI tell you, the whole island is going to hell in a handbasket.” Irma shoved a paper at me. “The Sherlock bike needs to be delivered to Heaven Sent up on the East Bluff. They want it tonight for an early ride tomorrow. What’s with fudgies and early biking? Didn’t they ever hear of vacation? I need to get back to the shop to help Rudy close up. He’s swamped, Brandy Bonanza’s a big hit.” She gave me the squinty-eyed look. “What’s going on with you? Your left eye’s twitching.”
    I walked to the door, herding Irma in that direction. “Tell Rudy I said hi, thanks for holding down the place, see you later. Gee, your hair looks shiny, you’ll make a lovely bride.” Then I closed the door, leaving Irma on the outside.
    â€œWhat?” I said to Bambino and Cleveland, perched side by side in the middle of the pool table, paws on hips, giving me the
you big fat liar
look. Okay, theydidn’t really have their paws on their hips, but they would if they could and the look was for real, I swear. They were sweet and darling felines to the rest of the world, and to me they were judgment on steroids, like that little cricket in Pinocchio who never let him get away with anything. “So I told Irma a little fib.” I fessed up. “It’s for her own good so she doesn’t have a meltdown.”
    Cleveland twitched his tail.
    â€œIt’s the truth.”
    Bambino curled his lip.
    â€œAll right, all right. You win, I lose. I didn’t tell Irma what was going on because I didn’t want her to be disappointed in me, and how about some tuna and we forget the whole thing.” The fur balls might be very judgmental, but tuna as a diversion won out every time.
    I dished out tuna; tied the white box to the basket of the Sherlock bike, which was painted up in tweed hats, pipes, magnifying glasses and book titles; and wobbled off down Main. Shops were closing for the night, and the Lilac Festival crowds were heading for dinner or the bars or a stroll through Marquette Park. Until I came to the island the only thing I’d ever ridden was mass transit, and considering my present biking ability, everyone around here would be safer if I’d kept it that way.
    There were two directions on the island, up and down, and from Main Street everything went up. Huffing and puffing and sweating like a roasting pig at abarbecue, because I sat on my butt all winter and painted bikes instead of getting to the gym, I struggled onto Cadotte. Streetlights glowed like pinpoints of bright in the night; the Grand Hotel in the distance was bathed in moonlight. Strollers and bikers in fleece jackets enjoyed the evening, and was that Zo on the other side of the street in shiny red biking shorts