Jennifer L. Hart - Southern Pasta Shop 02 - Murder À La Flambé by Jennifer L. Hart Read Free Book Online Page B

a bar brawl. You need time to dry out. Now come along peaceably so I don't have to arrest you. I don't want word of this getting back to your grandfather. Or to Kaylee's mom."
    My shoulders slumped as the alcohol-induced fog lifted. He was right. By morning the entire town would hear that Andy Buckland had been drinking and mixing it up at Judy's. It would be bad for my reputation both professionally and on a personal level if there was an official arrest to boot. With his hand wrapped around my arm, Kyle led me out of the bar, Donna trailing in our wake.
    "Donna, I'm going to call your husband to come pick you up," Kyle said. "If you've been drinking, don't get behind the wheel."
    "I won't," Donna was quick to reassure him. "Andy, do you want me to call your grandfather?"
    "No." I sucked in a deep lungful of frosty night air to help clear my head. "But next time when I say I don't want to go out, do me a favor and listen."
     
    *   *   *
     
    The drunk tank at the county jail smelled of urine and bile and other foul odors I didn't want to think about. I sat with my back to the wall, drew my knees up, and rested my head in my hands. Noises echoed off the painted cinderblock walls. Somewhere out front a television blared a late-night infomercial at ear-splitting decibels. Someone was snoring like a bear with a head cold in the next cell over. Someone on the other end of the hall was crying. The dull murmur of sober voices and the angry shouts of the inebriated all echoed in a depressing cacophony. The florescent lights overhead hummed and made my eyes hurt. I lowered my lids and tried not to feel too sorry for myself.
    On the plus side, at least Lacey wasn't anywhere in sight. Either someone had bailed her out or Kyle had been wise enough to keep the two of us apart. What was it about her that got under my skin and gave me a rash?
    Time dragged by like a hunter towing a ten-point buck, but eventually footsteps came down the hall. I shielded my eyes and looked up. "Aw, crap."
    "Lovely seeing you too, Andrea." Jones's expression gave nothing away. "Although I must say you've looked better."
    "Where the hell did you go?"
    "He was there?" Kyle had come up behind him.
    Frigging fantastic. They already had me at a disadvantage, what with my being incarcerated and all, but I didn't want Jones literally looking down on me while he was figuratively looking down on me. I rose, and the room spun slightly. Damn it, I didn't think I was still drunk, but then my stomach rolled as though it had gone out to sea without me.
    Jones shouted something as I slid back down to my seated position, and a moment later he and Kyle were by my side.
    "Andrea, look at me," Jones prompted, peeling my eyelids up.
    I tried to swat his hands away and failed miserably. "I'm fine, just buzzed."
    "Did you hit your head?" The man was relentless.
    Had I? I couldn't remember and told him so.
    "She seemed all right when I brought her in," Kyle told him. "Just drunk and pissed off."
    "She needs medical attention." Jones's energy shifted, and his voice grew lower, more sinister. "You left her in here by herself with a possible head injury for three hours, Sheriff?"
    "I didn't know she was hurt!" Kyle put his hands up as though warning Jones off.
    "Call an ambulance," Jones barked.
    "No," I snapped, aware enough to know that I didn't need an ambulance so much as a glass of water. "You can take me to the hospital, but no ambulance."
    I was, of course, ignored and was wheeled out of my jail cell on a stretcher.
    "I didn't know," Kyle repeated to the EMTs, to his deputies, to anyone who would listen. I couldn't be sure, but I thought he looked ready to cry. "I didn't know she'd hit her head. Will she be all right?"
    "I'll be fine," I reassured him, though I'm not sure why I bothered. He had tossed my carcass in jail and called Jones, when he knew I didn't want that.
    For his part, Jones stayed silent, gripping my hand as I was loaded into the ambulance. I closed my eyes