The Bogus Biker by Judy Nickles Read Free Book Online Page A

be back, but I swear, Daddy, his clothes stunk to high blessed heaven.”
    “I got him some stinkum .” Jake held up a can of deodorant and chuckled. “Your mother always thought it was funny when I called it that.”
    “I remember.”
    “Also some shaving cream, a package of disposable razors, briefs, and some socks.”
    “Surely he won’t be here that long.”
    “Well, however long, he’ll smell better. Want me to take all this upstairs?”
    “No, I’ll do it. Rosabel came by and checked things out and said I could clean the other room now.”
    “She find anything?”
    “No.”
    “Say anything about Brad?”
    “Just for me not to tell him she told me those fellows’ IDs were bogus.”
    “He’ll enjoy telling you that himself.”
    “More like throwing it in my face.”
    “Now, Nellie.”
    “I wonder who Tiny really is? FBI? DEA? CIA?”
    “Well, not CIA. That’s for frying bigger fish than we’ve got here in Amaryllis.”
    “I guess so. I didn’t plan anything for supper, and we can’t go back to the Sit-n-Swill for Reubens. Not that I care.”
    “I’ll run over to the Garden Market Deli and pick up something.”
    “What?”
    “I don’t know. Whatever looks good.” Jake headed for the back door. “I take it you told Mary Lynn about all this?”
    “All of it except for Tiny.”
    “That was probably a good idea. I won’t mention him either if I run into her.”
    ****
    Upstairs, Penelope laid the packages of underwear, socks, and pajamas on the bed and lined up the toiletries on the bathroom vanity. What would Tiny think of all this when and if he came back? That they were trying to make points with him for some underhanded reason? She hoped not, but it would be interesting to see if he cleaned up nice , as her mother used to say. With that in mind, she went to her own room and hunted up a hotel comb still in its cellophane wrap. She’d picked it up on a trip to Tupelo a few years back, and the name of the hotel was printed on it. But a comb was a comb. It would have to do.
    After adding the comb, as well as some peroxide, cotton balls, and a fresh bandage to the amenities on the vanity, she glanced around to see if anything was missing. Then she took a closer look at the pajamas—the pair of bright yellow cotton pants had motorcycles printed on them. Motorcycles. Oh, you’re a pistol, Daddy. Then she thought again about Tiny sleeping in the buff the night before and didn’t like the way it made her feel.
    Rushing out of the room, she went down to the kitchen again and rummaged in the pantry for the clown waffle iron. After rinsing it and leaving it open to dry, she mixed waffles from her grandmother’s recipe. Pre-packaged mixes had always been pretty much unknown in the Kelley household. Her mother made everything from scratch, too, and worried about what Penelope cooked for Jake and Bradley when she wasn’t able to do it anymore.
    Penelope poured the batter into a plastic container with an airtight lid and placed it beside the leftover green beans and new potatoes she’d cooked two nights earlier. I could’ve warmed those up…thawed a couple of chicken breasts… The phone on the wall beside the dining room door interrupted her thoughts.
    “Mother?”
    “Hello, Bradley. How are you?”
    “I’m good. Just wanted to say thanks for thinking about not cleaning the room until we could go over it.”
    “I’m glad you acknowledge that I occasionally think.”
    “Mother.”
    “And I also knew what that green stuff was without being told.”
    “Yeah, Officer Deane said she smelled it the minute you opened the door up there. Their IDs were fake, too.”
    She remembered she wasn’t supposed to know that. “Oh?”
    “You really should ask for two forms of ID.”
    “Couldn’t they fake two just as good as one?”
    “Not as likely.”
    “So how did you all get to the Sit-n-Swill so quick last night?”
    “That’s police business.”
    “I see.”
    “Don’t start,