Curiosity Killed the Cat Sitter by Blaize Clement Read Free Book Online

account. In her name. Hers to have no matter what happened, like love insurance.”
    “And then she dumped him?”
    “Like a rock. He sued her, I think, but the doofus had given her the money, so she got to keep it. He hates her guts now. It was just two years ago. I can’t believe you didn’t hear about it.”
    I didn’t remind her that two years ago I’d been doing well to get out of bed and find my way to the bathroom. I wouldn’t have known if they’d declared World War III.
    She said, “He’s got a live-in bimbo now. I saw her early one Sunday morning coming out of cocaine alley.”
    I knew the place she meant. Everybody on the key, including the Sheriff’s Department, knows the areas wheredrugs are sold. There’s a drug bust every now and then, but mostly it’s small-time stuff not worth the time and expense to fight, especially when you know the dealers will be back on the street before the ink is dry on the arrest warrant.
    “Do you think she was getting it for him?”
    “Maybe, but he’s never seemed coked up. She does, though. You look at her and expect her feet to be a few inches off the floor.”
    I looked at my watch and said, “Listen, I’ve got to run, okay? I’ll see you later.”
    “Let the police handle this, Dixie.”
    “It’s not the police, it’s the Sheriff’s Department.”
    “Whatever.”
    I knew she was right, but it bothered me that I didn’t know how to get in touch with Marilee. I had a responsibility, and I wasn’t at all pleased with how I was handling it.

Six
    Before I left, I ducked into the ladies’ room, where two very large black women were at the sinks. One of them I recognized as Tanisha, a cook in the diner, but I didn’t know the other one. I whipped into a stall, and they went dead silent, the way women in a rest room do when they’ve been interrupted mid-conversation. When I flushed, the sound seemed to release them.
    “So I says to him, I says, ‘You can kiss my big fat black ass.’”
    “Uh-huh, that’s good.”
    “I told him, ‘You can start in the middle and kiss your way thirty-six inches to the right, and then you can go back to the middle and kiss your way thirty-six inches to the left. You can just kiss my big fat ass.’”
    I went out to wash my hands, and they went silent again. I kept my gaze directed toward my hands, but I could feel them watching me. I pulled a paper towel from the holder and turned around and leaned my butt on the counter.
    I said, “I absolutely cannot leave here without knowing what happened next. What’d he say?”
    They both laughed. Tanisha said, “Girl, he didn’t say nothing. He just stood there with his mouth hanging open, and I walked. I don’t take that shit from nobody.”
    I grinned and tossed my wadded-up paper towel in the bin. “I wish I could have seen that.”
    I left them giggling and punched the door open with my knuckles—I’m squeamish about putting the flat of my hand on a bathroom door because half the women who go in there don’t wash their hands—and headed for the parking lot.
    The temperature had climbed and the Bronco was like a pizza oven. I started the car and let the AC run while I pulled out my cell phone and client book and flipped to Marilee’s page. I read Shuga Reasnor’s number while I dialed it.
    The voice that answered had the husky, half-choked sound of somebody blowing out cigarette smoke and talking at the same time. “Hello, this is Shuga,” she said.
    I had been pronouncing the name “Shooga,” but when she said it I realized the name was “Sugar,” with an exaggerated southern accent. Probably a lot of people would think that was cute.
    “This is Dixie Hemingway, Miss Reasnor. I take care of Marilee Doerring’s cat, and she gave me your number to call in case of an emergency. Has Detective Guidry been in touch with you yet?”
    “Noooo.” She drew out the word while she registered all the implications of what I’d said.
    Damn. I should have checked