Crepe Factor Read Online Free Page B

dog, pawed excitedly at Ava.
    â€œWatch the leather,” Ava warned. “The shoes you can gnaw but the leather is sacrosanct.”
    â€œPoobah!” Carmela shouted. “Get down.”
    Poobah ducked his head and gave them both a crazy, crooked doggy smile, his tongue hanging out like a pale pink ribbon.
    â€œHe really is cute,” Ava said. “For a Heinz 57 dog.”
    â€œShh,” Carmela joked. “Poobah still dreams of making it to Westminster.”
    Carmela cracked open a bottle of rosé then and they sat in her living room, digesting the evening, if not all the greasy and sugary food they’d consumed.
    â€œEh,” Ava said. She flopped down across the leather sofa.“I never thought a trip to the Winter Market could turn out so dreadful.”
    â€œIt’s one for the record books,” Carmela agreed. She’d lit a candle, kicked off her shoes, and flaked out on her chaise lounge. Now, for the first time tonight, she felt like she was able to relax. Babcock had grilled her like a hunk of halibut over a bed of hot coals. Demanding to know why she and Ava had been at the Winter Market. Wanting to know how much of the argument between Quigg and Martin Lash she’d overheard. Carmela had been . . . cautious. She liked Quigg, she really did. And sometimes Quigg could be his own worst enemy. So, yes, maybe she’d been a little bit protective of him. Who wouldn’t be if some crappy music box vendor was pointing his fat finger at their friend? Talking about a complete meltdown. Oh please.
    â€œYou know what?” Ava said.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI think I’ve got kettle corn stuck in my fillings.”
    â€œI’m not surprised, you ate enough of it.”
    â€œI’ll probably have to pour a gallon of hydrogen peroxide into my teeth-whitening tray tonight.”
    â€œWhat’s that gonna do?”
    â€œBreak up the chunks of caramel that are glazed onto my teeth?”
    â€œThat’s a nice thought,” Carmela said. She gazed about her apartment dreamily. It was a comfy, cozy place that had been her first refuge when she’d gotten divorced from Shamus. But now she’d turned it into the kind of genteel, elegant, slightly frayed home that born-and-bred New Orleans residents adored. A leather sofa, slightly nicked and scratched from dog paws. Persian carpet. Dark, crackle-glazed oil paintings. Thick velvet draperies that lent a slightly decadent feel. Yup,this was home, all right, and Carmela reveled in the fact that she’d created it all by herself.
    â€œI hate to bring this up,” Ava said.
    â€œThen don’t.”
    â€œBut I’m not sure I’ve seen anything as gross as Martin Lash staggering toward us with that huge fork stuck in his neck.”
    â€œIt was pretty awful,” Carmela agreed.
    â€œAnd the really bad thing is . . .”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œWell, Quigg is kind of an obvious suspect,” Ava said.
    Ava’s words dug deep into Carmela, creating a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. “I know Quigg’s a hothead sometimes. But, believe me, he didn’t have anything to do with this.”
    â€œAre you sure about that,
cher
?” Ava held up a hand. “I mean, really sure?”
    â€œYes, I think so.”
    Ava pulled herself upright and reached for the wine bottle. Poured herself another drink. Her dark eyes drilled into Carmela. “You think or you know?”
    â€œI know. Quigg blows hot and cold but he’s no killer,” Carmela said. At least she hoped he wasn’t. Because if Quigg momentarily lost his temper and
did
kill Martin Lash, then he was in a world of trouble.
    â€œThat’s good,” Ava said. “That you’re so sure of him. That you’d stand behind him like that.”
    Carmela arched a brow. “Ava, where are you going with this?”
    Ava stretched languidly. Whenever she was going to