Murder Boogies With Elvis Read Online Free Page B

the sheriff of St. Clair County. Well over six feet tall, Virgil is a commanding presence with the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen. Holding his firm grasp, I thought that Mary Alice had herself a prize.
    Tammy Sue had her father’s smile. She had a round face and pink cheeks that begged to be pinched. And she was probably a natural blonde with just a little drugstore help. The sunflower bridesmaid dress wouldn’t do her in.
    “Isn’t this wonderful?” she said, gesturing at the crowd. “It’s a sellout.”
    “I know,” I said. “My next-door neighbor tried to get tickets this afternoon and couldn’t.”
    “Larry, that’s my husband, and Buddy, that’s my brother, are going to be nervous wrecks.”
    “They’ll be fine,” Virgil said as we started into the theater.
    “But there are two new guys who haven’t practiced nearly enough. It has to be synchronized.”
    “Synchronized” came out as “thincronized.” On her, it was cute.
    “So Virgil, Jr., is ‘Buddy’?” I asked as we worked our way through the crowd.
    Tammy Sue nodded. “My mama always said he was her best buddy.” She glanced at Mary Alice and Virgil, who were in front of us. It was a curious look, and I tried to remember how long Virgil had been widowed. Three years? It didn’t matter. Tammy Sue would have mixed emotions.
    She gave a slight shrug and turned to me with asmile. “You wouldn’t believe the seats Larry and Buddy have gotten us. They’re in the front row.”
    “That’s wonderful. How did they manage that?”
    “Larry’s a theatrical agent. He booked half the people who are in the show tonight. Cock Fight is his biggest act.” Tammy Sue beamed proudly.
    Fred, who was holding my arm and listening, leaned around me and said he thought that was illegal.
    Tammy Sue giggled. “It’s a rock band, Mr. Hollowell. But not far from being illegal. They get pretty outrageous sometimes.”
    “Sounds interesting.” I turned and smiled at Fred. “And we’re in the front row.”
    He smiled back and mouthed, You owe me.
    “I’ll pay.”
    Mary Alice and Virgil were doing a great job of running interference through the crowd. Sister’s good at this. Her formidable size and elbows have opened a lot of paths for me. “Don’t be so damned polite,” she’ll say, snatching me along. “And why on God’s earth didn’t you eat and grow?”
    Sister is convinced that there are no small genes in our gene pool. Therefore, I must be anorexic. Sometimes she’ll poke me in the ribs like the witch did Hansel and Gretel and say, “Pure bone.” Which can be scary and may, subconsciously, be the reason I haven’t plumped up.
    The Alabama has a large stage. When it was built, vaudeville was still popular and no one had dreamed that the screen that was rolled down for the movies would ever be the main attraction. Our seats were so close to the orchestra pit that we could lean over and see the musicians who were tuning up and the MightyWurlitzer with its red top and gold music rack. The man we still called Mr. Wurlitzer, though surely there had been dozens of them, had on a white tux and was reading a paperback book while he waited to rise to the heavens.
    “This is so exciting,” Tammy Sue said as we settled down. She was sitting in the middle, between Sister and me. With her lisp it came out “ekthiting.” She laughed and put a finger to her lips. “Exciting.” She leaned around Mary Alice. “Did you hear that, Daddy?”
    “I heard it, darling.”
    “Poor Daddy spent a fortune on speech lessons for me, and I still mess up when I get”—she paused—“excited.”
    I could learn to love Tammy Sue. As a teacher, I knew how much teasing she must have received. Virgil and his wife deserved a lot of credit for raising this happy, self-confident woman.
    Sister was being unusually quiet. I was facing her as I talked to Tammy Sue and saw her glance around at us several times. But she didn’t attempt to join in the conversation. Not