Read Online Your Goose Is Cooked (A LaTisha Barnhart Mystery) by S. Dionne Moore - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: S. Dionne Moore
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better get back to Mr. Abbett at the counter .”
Chief’s eyes narrowed and he gave an almost imperceptible nod. I knew I had to hurry or Aidan might get suspicious and start shooting. I felt a bull’s-eye growing on my back.
It was just that moment I heard Eugene Taser behind me. “Betsy will take care of the bill, LaTisha . I’ve got to get back to work.”
I kept my eyes hard on Aidan. His head turned in our direction ever-so-slightly, and I tensed, ready to spring on that boy and jam his arm behind his back, gun and all. But he didn’t move to do more than glance at the table Eugene had vacated, then bend his head to catch whatever blather was dropping from Lester’s lips. I stiff-legged myself back to the counter as the mayor, who had slipped back to his table, returned and passed behind Aidan.
“What you wantin ’, Aidan?” I huffed out fast-like, trying to distract him from the mayor’s exit.
“Your hose too tight, LaTisha ? You sure are breathing hard.” That from Lester. I shot some fire his way, but Lester happily ran his hand up and down the strap of his overalls, grinning wide, not the least bit intimidated. Maybe I wouldn’t vote for him after all.
When Aidan twitched to the edge of his stool, I hauled myself up to climb over the counter to body-slam him. Only one problem. No, two. First off, this here body doesn’t have the thrust and lift-off it used to and, two, my waistband got stuck on the knob of the drawer that held utensils. The drawer I took with me, utensils spattering all around my feet, the drawer smacking against the back of my legs. Or leg, really. You see, what really put a cork in my intention to leap over the counter was my left leg. It got stuck. So there I stood, my left heel on the countertop while the rest of me was spewing utensils.
Aidan’s eyes went round with wonder as he stared a hole through me. I thought I saw a glimmer of smile around his lips, but he turned and left. Lester leaned over the counter, surveying the length of my left leg, and braying like a donkey. I hoped he laughed his head off. Chief and Regina scrambled over my way.
Regina began to help me edge my leg off the counter while Chief stared between me and a hysterical Lester.
“Don’t you have some campaigning to do, Lester Riley?” Regina shot at the overwrought councilman. She managed to scrape my heel back enough to free my leg. Good thing, because muscles, ligaments, bone, and tendons were all screaming something fierce.
“And don’t you have yourself someone to chase, Chad Conrad?” I suggested between the grinds of my teeth, as my leg throbbed like Poe’s tell-tale heart. He nodded, hiked up his belt, and held the door as Flossie beat it out the door. I wondered if she was in a hurry to keep from laughing or if she had other things on her mind. Betsy came to the counter, money in hand. She didn’t hold back at all. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“Don’t worry your head about me, Betsy. You got enough problems to—”
“I hope you have a good day,” Regina chirped as she passed Betsy her change. I didn’t know if she was trying to distract me or Betsy as she dropped the change into Betsy’s palm one penny at a time. But it worked. Betsy left without further verbal warfare.
A few scattered chuckles rained down on me from Lester’s direction. I pressed my hands on the counter and got up close and personal with Lester. “If you don’t stop your laughing, Carl Baereum is going to have new reason to live up to his name.”
Lester did his best to suck in his laughter and keep a straight face. “That was better than your testimony—”
“Lester”—I speared him with my eyes—“It wouldn’t be good for a mayoral candidate to be seen sucking uncooked spaghetti noodles through his nose. You feeling me on that?”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“Then we’ll be having peace.”
Lester bent his head to his plate, twirling some noodles around the tines of his fork and popping
Chief’s eyes narrowed and he gave an almost imperceptible nod. I knew I had to hurry or Aidan might get suspicious and start shooting. I felt a bull’s-eye growing on my back.
It was just that moment I heard Eugene Taser behind me. “Betsy will take care of the bill, LaTisha . I’ve got to get back to work.”
I kept my eyes hard on Aidan. His head turned in our direction ever-so-slightly, and I tensed, ready to spring on that boy and jam his arm behind his back, gun and all. But he didn’t move to do more than glance at the table Eugene had vacated, then bend his head to catch whatever blather was dropping from Lester’s lips. I stiff-legged myself back to the counter as the mayor, who had slipped back to his table, returned and passed behind Aidan.
“What you wantin ’, Aidan?” I huffed out fast-like, trying to distract him from the mayor’s exit.
“Your hose too tight, LaTisha ? You sure are breathing hard.” That from Lester. I shot some fire his way, but Lester happily ran his hand up and down the strap of his overalls, grinning wide, not the least bit intimidated. Maybe I wouldn’t vote for him after all.
When Aidan twitched to the edge of his stool, I hauled myself up to climb over the counter to body-slam him. Only one problem. No, two. First off, this here body doesn’t have the thrust and lift-off it used to and, two, my waistband got stuck on the knob of the drawer that held utensils. The drawer I took with me, utensils spattering all around my feet, the drawer smacking against the back of my legs. Or leg, really. You see, what really put a cork in my intention to leap over the counter was my left leg. It got stuck. So there I stood, my left heel on the countertop while the rest of me was spewing utensils.
Aidan’s eyes went round with wonder as he stared a hole through me. I thought I saw a glimmer of smile around his lips, but he turned and left. Lester leaned over the counter, surveying the length of my left leg, and braying like a donkey. I hoped he laughed his head off. Chief and Regina scrambled over my way.
Regina began to help me edge my leg off the counter while Chief stared between me and a hysterical Lester.
“Don’t you have some campaigning to do, Lester Riley?” Regina shot at the overwrought councilman. She managed to scrape my heel back enough to free my leg. Good thing, because muscles, ligaments, bone, and tendons were all screaming something fierce.
“And don’t you have yourself someone to chase, Chad Conrad?” I suggested between the grinds of my teeth, as my leg throbbed like Poe’s tell-tale heart. He nodded, hiked up his belt, and held the door as Flossie beat it out the door. I wondered if she was in a hurry to keep from laughing or if she had other things on her mind. Betsy came to the counter, money in hand. She didn’t hold back at all. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“Don’t worry your head about me, Betsy. You got enough problems to—”
“I hope you have a good day,” Regina chirped as she passed Betsy her change. I didn’t know if she was trying to distract me or Betsy as she dropped the change into Betsy’s palm one penny at a time. But it worked. Betsy left without further verbal warfare.
A few scattered chuckles rained down on me from Lester’s direction. I pressed my hands on the counter and got up close and personal with Lester. “If you don’t stop your laughing, Carl Baereum is going to have new reason to live up to his name.”
Lester did his best to suck in his laughter and keep a straight face. “That was better than your testimony—”
“Lester”—I speared him with my eyes—“It wouldn’t be good for a mayoral candidate to be seen sucking uncooked spaghetti noodles through his nose. You feeling me on that?”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“Then we’ll be having peace.”
Lester bent his head to his plate, twirling some noodles around the tines of his fork and popping
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