Paint the Town Dead Read Online Free

version.
    The older woman who trailed behind Ernie and the redhead wore jeans with a simple flowered tunic blouse. I deduced she was his sister because she resembled Ernie in her facial features—same patrician nose and sharp chin. She was thinner, no bull neck like Ernie’s. That was a blessing because her short salt-and-pepper hair didn’t complement her face as it was, and neither did her sour expression. She didn’t wear jewelry except for a rope chain necklace that looked like real gold.
    The trio took their seats quietly. I noticed Zach back at the utility sink. His face expressed distaste, but he filled three more tubs for the newcomers. I reined in my ire and picked three gourds from the bin where Doralee had stashed the extras. As I set them before Ernie and his companions, I noticed their hastily handwritten name tags. KIM , the younger woman’s read, and GEORGINE was printed on the elder woman’s.
    Doralee would’ve had every right to ignore the newcomers, in my opinion, but she didn’t, and I admired her poise.While most students carried on low conversations with one another, Doralee made the rounds, complimenting each student, including Ernie’s and Georgine’s gourds. Kim didn’t participate. She didn’t look like a woman who painted her own perfectly oval fingernails, never mind a gourd.
    Ego-Ernie’s response to Doralee’s praise of his freehand design was an arrogant, “Of course. I’m a gourd master.”
    I rolled my eyes at that, and kept a wary watch on the three latecomers. Kim sat thigh to thigh with Ernie, speaking in a low, wheedling voice. The sole smile she spared for Doralee struck me as superior rather than friendly. Georgine completely ignored Kim’s mumbling and shifting on the stool, but shot the occasional scowl at Ernie.
    To my surprise, the older woman gave Doralee a cordial nod and murmured, “It’s good to see you again.”
    Doralee smiled back. “You, too, Georgine. I hope you’re well.”
    She aimed a look of loathing at Kim. “Things are tolerable.”
    Wow. I could hardly wait to buttonhole Sherry and Aster, the two who seemed to know Doralee the best, and get the scoop on these people.
    A long forty minutes later, the class wrapped.
    â€œThank you again for coming tonight. If you’ve caught the gourd art bug, I encourage you to continue experimenting. Remember, your handout has information on where to buy cleaned and craft-ready gourds. My website URL and e-mail are there, too, if you want to contact me.”
    â€œWe appreciate you making the trip to teach us about gorgeous gourds, Doralee,” I said as I went to her table. “Ladies and gentlemen, you have a few minutes to finish up, but remember Doralee and The Handcraft Emporium’s own Sherry Mae Cutler will demonstrate more gourd-decorating techniques tomorrow afternoon. If you can’t be here, I hope you’ll join us for our other grand opening events listed on the flyers out in the store.”
    Seven ladies from the class crowded around Doralee to ask more questions. Ernie hung back, too, as if he wanted a word with Doralee. This time she did ignore him. She chatted with the students as she packed her supplies in their case, including the extra painting tees. Sherry and Aster also stood nearby. I hadn’t seen Aster come in from the store, but I was glad they kept Doralee busy.
    Kim pulled at his arm. “Let’s go, Ernie. You can ask her tomorrow.”
    His expression torn, Ernie finally ushered Kim and Georgine through to the store and, I hoped, straight out the front door.
    None of them had taken their gourds with them, although I noticed Georgine’s featured fireworks in red, white, and blue paint. Not as elaborate as Ernie’s design, but it was surprisingly well done.
    Zach had started gathering the paints, paintbrushes, and water tubs, so I joined in, working from the other side of the