The Mysteries of Max: Books 31-33 Nic Saint (kiss me liar novel english .TXT) 📖

“You lead the way,” said Brutus. “You’ve been here before.”

And so she had. On more than one occasion, actually, though never when so many people were out and about at the same time.

She led the way through the kitchen doors, then out into a wide corridor, where a nice burgundy runner had been placed on the hardwood floor, and past a large glass display case containing a few choice medals and mementos reminding the citizenry that before Charlene Butterwick had become mayor other people had filled the same position, and with distinction, too. Their portraits all decorated the walls, and a nice rogue’s gallery it was, too. Soon the hubbub of sound became louder, and as they streaked into the main reception hall, they could see it was already filling up nicely.

Immediately Harriet ducked underneath a chair and Brutus followed suit, and they hunkered down, keeping their digits crossed that no one would kick them out.

“Now let’s see if we can’t collect some neat little tidbits of information for our human,” said Harriet, well pleased that they’d gotten so far and without incident.

“Are you going to tell Marge?” asked Tex as they walked out of the restaurant.

“What is there to tell?” said Vesta.

Tex almost felt teary-eyed at this. “Thanks,” he said. “I don’t know what happened just now, but… thanks.”

“What happened is that you were led by a part of your anatomy most men allow to dominate their good sense,” said Scarlett. “And I should know, as I’ve played on that particular part myself plenty of times in the past.” She clapped Tex on the back. “You’re a good man, Tex, and sometimes people try to take advantage of good men like you.”

“I really thought it was a good idea,” he said sheepishly.

And as they walked on, Scarlett thought that if she’d received a dollar every time someone had said that to her, she would have a nicely filled savings account by now.

“Are you going back to the office?” asked Tex.

“No, I thought I’d see what the big fuss is about in Town Hall,” said Vesta.

“I guess I’ll tag along,” said Tex. “I’m curious to know what that Lord fella looks like.”

“Me, too,” said Scarlett with a smile.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” said Vesta.

“What did I say?”

“It’s not what you’re saying. It’s what you’re thinking.”

“How could you possibly know what I’m thinking. Are you psychic now?”

“You’re thinking that maybe Lord Hilbourne is as susceptible to your feminine wiles as Tex here is.”

“I’m not susceptible to Scarlett’s wiles,” said Tex. Then he caught sight of Scarlett’s wiggling décolletage and rolled his eyes. “Okay, so maybe I am a little.”

“For your information, I’m not going to try and seduce Lord Hilbourne,” said Scarlett. “Besides, the man is already spoken for, judging from the scene we witnessed in his suite.”

“You were in Lord Hilbourne’s suite?” asked Tex.

“Yeah, your daughter had an interview with the guy, and we chaperoned her.”

“Oh, so that’s what we were doing,” said Scarlett with a grin.

“Of course. You don’t think I was going to allow Odelia to go up to the hotel room of a guy who likes to invite loose women into his suite, do you? And all by herself, too.”

“Loose women?” asked Tex, then waved a hand. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

And as they passed the Star hotel for the second time that day, Scarlett happened to glance up at the building’s frontage, and thought for a moment that she saw a familiar face appear in one of the windows. But when she shielded her eyes from the sun to have a better look, the face had disappeared.

It had looked a lot like the face of… Johnny Carew.

“Will you get away from that window!” Jerry yelled.

“I’m just looking, Jer,” said Johnny. “I can look, can’t I?”

“No, you can’t. What if people see you? They’ll start sticking their noses where they don’t belong.”

“Nobody will recognize me, Jer,” said Johnny as he did as he was told and moved away from the window. “Though I did just see Tex Poole.”

“Tex Poole!” Jerry cried. “Did he see you?”

“Pretty sure he didn’t. Too busy chatting with his mother-in-law.”

“Oh, for crying out loud! You saw Vesta Muffin, too?!”

“Yeah, but like I said she was too busy chatting with her son-in-law to bother looking up. That friend of hers saw me, though. Hot babe? She’s always hanging around Vesta.”

“Scarlett Canyon,” Jerry growled, who by now knew pretty much everybody in the small town they’d adopted as their own.

“I don’t think she knows me, though,” said Johnny. “At least we’ve never been formally introduced.” He grinned. “Though I wouldn’t mind if we were. She’s very pretty.”

“She’s also old enough to be your mother.”

“She is? She looks real good for her age.”

“Will you get your mind out of the gutter and focus?”

“Yes, Jer,” said Johnny dutifully.

Jerry was considering a slight alteration to the plan. Though he firmly believed the best plans of campaign were the ones meticulously prepared ahead of time, and changing things up at the last minute was asking for trouble. And since trouble kept following them around wherever they went, this didn’t seem advisable. No, better stick to the plan.

“Maybe we can go to this reception thingy?” Johnny asked.

“And get Hampton Cove’s local PD breathing down our necks again? No, thank you very much, Johnny. I’ve seen the inside of their holding cell more than enough.”

He picked up the magazine he’d been reading and turned the page. It was one of those nature magazines, and the article described the mating ritual of the African red-eyed bulbul. He’d picked it up downstairs in the lobby, and he had to say it soothed him.

“You know, Jer,” said Johnny, “I was thinking we should consider a change of career.”

“Uh-huh,” Jerry said, as he read his article.

‘The call of the African red-eyed bulbul is a cheerful tillop, peep, peep, tiddlypop.’

“So I’ve got the perfect job lined up for us.”

“Is that so?” he murmured, only half listening to his partner in crime.

‘The