Harley Rushes In (Book 2 of the Blue Suede Mysteries) Read Online Free

even trying. The waitress delivered her aunt’s second gin and tonic, and she scooped it up. How did the woman suck down so much gin and not fall out onto the floor? If she drank like that, she’d end up paddling in the fountain with the ducks.
    Aunt Darcy glanced at her watch. “Oh, I’ve got to run, Harley. I’m supposed to meet a client at their house in Harbor Town. A new job, very expensive. Remember now, not a word to anyone. If it got out, I’d be ruined.”
    Kissing the air beside Harley, she left in a flurry of clove cigarette smoke and lingering perfume. Harley got stuck with the check and no lunch. Sixteen dollars for a Coke and her aunt’s two gin and tonics? That was too pricey for her budget, but it wasn’t the waitress’s fault and she left a tip as well. Twenty bucks to listen to some ridiculous story that would prove to be just a mistake.
    It wouldn’t be the first time her aunt had thought someone was trying to ruin her business. Last year, she’d been convinced a rival design shop was stealing her clients by telling lies about her all over town, and she threatened to sue for libel. That had turned out to be a mistake. And the year before that, there’d been the disagreement with furniture manufacturers—well, no point in dredging all that up now. She’d go just to keep peace. And to recoup her twenty dollars.
    After stopping at Taco Bell to pick up brunch, she crossed Poplar to the office parking lot with only one near crash. There was a parking space in the shade and she grabbed it. Leaving her car’s windows down would be an open invitation to steal it, but parking in the sun meant the temperature inside might reach a hundred and fifty degrees in the summertime. Even though it was still relatively cool, no point in taking unnecessary chances. Toyotas, especially older ones like hers, were prime targets for chop shops, one of Memphis’s major business attractions for budding young entrepreneurs.
    Air conditioning inside gave her a spurt of energy. If she ran up the stairs to the second floor instead of taking the elevator, it might work off some of the junk food she’d eaten lately.
    By the time she reached the Tour Tyme offices, she was out of breath. Staggering into the reception area, she hung over Tootsie’s desk for a moment, gasping for air. He didn’t look up.
    “You’re still on call. I didn’t put you on the schedule since I didn’t know when you’d be back. There’s a Graceland run,” Tootsie said. He’d filed his fake nails into a perfect oval. “You can take that tour if you want. Tourists from Nevada. What do you think of this color?” He held out his nails for her to inspect. He’d changed colors already, a deeper shade of purple.
    She leaned forward as the black dots in front of her eyes faded. “Nice. Perfect Plum?”
    “Claret Craze. I went to Stein Mart on Sunday and found a gorgeous dress in a deep claret. Very Jennifer Aniston. Do you think my hair would look good cut like hers?”
    “This year’s cut or last year’s?”
    “Last year.” He tugged at the end of his pony tail, soft auburn strands curling around his palm. “I’ve been thinking of cutting it a little shorter, since every so often I like to go as Cher. She can be a refreshing change, but I have to wear wigs and they get hot.”
    “Keep it long,” Harley advised, “it’s more flexible.”
    “Right. It’s a mystery to me how you can know about nail polish colors and hair lengths when you so obviously don’t apply it to yourself.”
    Inspecting her nails—or where they’d be if she didn’t bite them—she said reflectively, “Cami has never given up hope I’ll turn into a girly-girl. She keeps me updated. If I had polished nails they’d have to be in bubble gum flavor. Or bean burrito.”
    Tootsie ignored the last. “So Charlsie’s van broke down. How about a one o’clock pickup at the Radisson? Only four women from up in Michigan, but they want to go to Victorian