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

Village.”
    “Great. I like going to the Village.”
    She took the log book down the hall to catch it up since she hadn’t entered her mileage or time last week. There had been other things on her mind, like finding her parents after King, their neurotic dog, had been abducted and the neighbor responsible for the dognapping was murdered. Of course, the police had immediately suspected her father had killed the neighbor, so he and her mother had gone on the run. And then there was Harley’s narrow escape from jewel thieves and psychotic murderers when she tried to get evidence to clear her father. That still made her shiver when she thought about it. Why had she thought changing jobs would eliminate the stress in her life? It’d obviously followed her. But at least being a tour guide was less stressful than working in marketing for a corporate banking firm whose managers talked like drill sergeants to their employees. It’d do for now. She looked at it as a working vacation. And time to decide what she really wanted from life.
    Here she was, closer to thirty, unmarried, with no kids or mortgage or even a steady boyfriend, drifting through life as aimlessly as a dandelion thistle in the wind. Diva said she was a late bloomer, but her mother had no expectations for Harley other than that she be happy in whatever she chose to do. It was a simplistic view of life that often bumped up against the harsh corners of reality.
    But then, that was how Diva was, an idealistic dreamer with a proclaimed connection to the psychic world that was uncannily accurate at times. Enough to validate her beliefs in her own abilities, anyway. Harley wasn’t always so sure. There were the times Diva was right on the money with a prediction or warning, or even just a certainty about someone. Like last week, when she’d been so sure Bruno Jett was connected somehow to their dog’s disappearance. It’d turned out that he was, though indirectly. And Diva had been sure all would turn out well in the end, which it had, but not without a lot of stress. And panic. But both those predictions could be explained away as coincidence.
    Then there was her warning about the Chinese pug . . . that one was harder to explain away. Diva couldn’t have known that Harley would almost be hit in the head with a heavy ceramic pug. It was just that kind of obscure thing that made Harley wonder if her mother really did use a sixth sense at random moments. Practicality demanded Harley apply rational explanations to the unexplainable. There were times, however, it was impossible. Diva often defied logic.
    When the phone rang, Harley wasn’t surprised to hear her mother on the other end say, “When Darcy asks you to help her, consider it carefully. It will set you on a different path.”
    “Aunt Darcy already asked. I didn’t fully agree, but I didn’t refuse. And how’d you know about it?”
    Ignoring that, Diva said, “It’s your choice, Harley. Just be sure it’s what you want to do.”
    Diva’s low alto vibrated softly in her ear, and Harley toyed with the impulse to ask her advice. Then the moment passed, and she said only, “I’ll be sure.”
    It was a lie, of course. She’d been roped into it with cords of familial guilt, lassoed by a master. Jewish mothers had nothing on Southern women, and a Southern Jewish mother was a force to be reckoned with. She should be grateful, she supposed, that Aunt Darcy was Methodist. Otherwise, there was no telling what Harley might have agreed to do for her.
    Just checking out shop inventory or shipping manifests couldn’t be too bad. Nothing more complicated than a few boring hours on a Tuesday afternoon when she’d rather be doing anything else. Then she’d present dear Aunt Darcy with a bill, including the twenty dollar charge for drinks at The Peabody.
    Life had its perks. She’d try to keep that in mind while she went through the motions of finding Aunt Darcy’s imaginary smuggler. Really. She’d