Cover-Up Story Read Online Free Page A

doing those one-night stands all over the place. Some nights, he’s got up on that stage with so many pills inside him, we wasn’t never sure he could even stand up, never mind play music.’
    I looked at them suspiciously, but they were serious now. ‘You don’t mean it – no one believes in Conjure Women in this day and age!’ I was trying to convince myself, however. If anybody believed in that sort of thing, this little lot would.
    â€˜We don’t know as he really believes it,’ Cousin Homer said, ‘but he just ain’t sure. He’ll be all right after two, three days, though. When he sees he’s still alive.’
    â€˜Be all right now,’ a voice from the bed said weakly, ‘if I could just have my pills.’
    I looked at Uncle No’ccount, but he shook his head. ‘Nope,’ he said. ‘Bart threw his tranquillizers and sleeping pills overboard. Said he was sick and tired of all this foolishness. Kill him or cure him, Bart said, and he didn’t care which, but he’d had enough of this damn fool nonsense.’
    For the first time, I felt a fleeting sympathy with the Client. It couldn’t be easy trying to work with this bunch of morons, no wonder he had such a nasty temper. It wouldn’t do my own temper any good if I had to have much to do with them. But it was only for six weeks and, I reminded myself, Perkins & Tate needed the money.
    â€˜Bart’d never’ve knowed –’ Cousin Zeke surfaced again, to glare accusingly at Uncle No’ccount – ‘if Maw Cooney hadn’t of snitched to him.’
    â€˜Yeah,’ Cousin Ezra joined in venomously, ‘she never could mind her own business. Somebody oughta take a meat axe to that old bag.’
    â€˜Trouble is –’ Cousin Homer seemed to be peacemaker – ‘she reckons Lou-Ann would take over that extra number if Zeke falls down on the job.’
    â€˜She oughta –’
    â€˜Easy, boys, easy.’ I decided I ought to try some peace-making myself. At the same time, it was all grist to the mill. The story of a Conjure Woman and a hexed musician was a colourful one – perhaps we could get some coverage out of it. Build up some suspense about whether Cousin Zeke could pull himself together enough to appear on opening nights. Would the show go on, in the Great Tradition – that sort of thing. Carefully, though, we’d have to lose the part about the pills going overboard. The idea of big, kindly, lonely Homesteader Bart destroying a sick man’s medicine wouldn’t do anything for his image.
    â€˜I’ll see what I can do about getting some more tranquillizers,’ I promised. ‘And I ought to talk to Bart, too. Do any of you know where he is?’
    â€˜Out on the town, way he always is when we hit a new place.’ Cousin Ezra’s mouth quirked slyly. ‘With Crystal.’
    â€˜And Lou-Ann,’ Uncle No’ccount said, studying his harmonica.
    â€˜And Maw Cooney,’ Cousin Homer added. He glanced obliquely at Uncle No’ccount.
    Once again, there was a private joke in the air. Even Cousin Zeke, who had given up trying to keep his eyes open, was lying back on the pillows with a knowing smirk on his face.
    Once more, I was on the outside looking in, trying to assess what the hell was going on. Uncle No’ccount and Maw Cooney? Why not? It took all tastes. She wasn’t a bad-looking woman, if you didn’t mind the battleaxe variety.
    With a show of indifference, Uncle No’ccount began improvising on the tune he had been playing earlier. The Cousins were openly grinning now, watching me challengingly. Inviting me to ask more questions, to start the hare running. There was a lot they could tell me that I ought to know, their attitudes implied.
    No doubt there was, but I had had a long hard day. Whatever the Facts of Life among this troupe, I could learn them some other day. And,