Elaine Viets & Victoria Laurie, Nancy Martin, Denise Swanson - Drop-Dead Blonde (v5.0) (pdf) Unknown (audio ebook reader .txt) 📖

193 194 Denise Swanson

``Yeah, it is. Bunny is a good egg and deserves better from life.''

Skye allowed a moment of silence, then, edging closer to what she really wanted to know, said, ``Was she upset about Benny being arrested?''

Ruby shrugged. ``It's not his first dance with the jail- house band.''

``So did they catch him doing the usual?'' Skye tried to be casual.

``No. He . . .'' Suddenly Ruby stopped. ``Never mind. It's not important.'' She took another sip of coffee and parried, ``Are you and Simon engaged?''

Skye shook her head. ``No. We're not ready to settle down yet.'' Refusing to be distracted, she probed, ``You know, I'm still not clear as to why you ran away when Wally stopped you.''

``Like I said, I panicked, silly me.'' Ruby fluffed her hair and tried again to sidetrack Skye. ``Speaking of the police chief, do you and he have something going on the side? He's really hot.''

``No, of course not.'' Skye felt her cheeks flush. ``Why would you ask that?''

Ruby drained her cup. ``The vibes, honey, the vibes. You just can't fight the vibes.''

Skye opened her mouth to rebut Ruby's claim, but the blonde muttered something about running errands, and hurried away. Skye frowned. What kind of errands could someone new in town have to do?

After a few minutes of unproductive speculation about the older woman's intentions, Skye gave up. She had too much to do to waste any time trying to figure out Ruby.

Skye spent the rest of the afternoon getting the alley's restaurant ready for the night's crowd, and when she fin- ished up around five, Bunny drafted her to help with the talent show.

Even though the program didn't start until seven, the contestants were already crowding the stage. Evidently word had gotten out that there was room for only twenty entertainers, and that it was first come, first perform.

Skye sat at a table to Bunny's left, giving out numbers and taking names. She wondered if the talent show was so popular because Scumble River was full of enough hams DEAD BLONDES TELL NO TALES 195 to supply Easter dinner for the entire state of Illinois, or due to the prize Bunny had wheedled out of Quentin Kes- sler, the owner of the dry goods store: a big-screen TV.

So far Skye had registered comedians, singers, dancers, an accordion player, and even a lady who had dyed her poodle pink and taught it to dance on its back legs. The animal's owner had colored her own hair to match, curled it to look like the canine's fur, and wore a rose net tutu similar to the one the dog sported around its hindquarters.

Currently Skye's attention was riveted on a girl standing center stage tossing two burning batons and reciting:

``The boy stood on the burning deck,

Whence all but him had fled;

The flame that lit the battle's wreck

Shone round him o'er the dead.''

Suddenly Ruby erupted through the doors leading into the bar. A hush fell over the crowd as Ruby shouted, ``I've been vandalized!''

Skye rushed off the stage. ``What happened? Were you attacked? Where?'' Ruby looked fine. Her leopard-print miniskirt and black silk blouse were undamaged. There wasn't a hair out of place in her blond pageboy, and her makeup wasn't smeared.

``I'm fine, but when I get ahold of the prick who tore up my car, he won't be.'' Ruby whirled on her stiletto heels and marched away. ``Come look.''

Skye, followed closely by Bunny, the talent show contes- tants trailing them like baby ducks, trooped outside. As they neared the bowling alley parking lot the blare of an alarm assaulted Skye's ears.

She hadn't seen Ruby's car before, but when Wally had told her that Ruby drove a pink Cadillac, she had felt a certain sense of solidarity with the blonde. Skye herself drove a 1957 aqua Bel Air, a big car in an unusual color. She had pictured Ruby's car as a pretty pastel, like the ones the cosmetic ladies drove. She had been wrong--very, very wrong.

The pink of Ruby's car was closer to neon, and the Eld- orado had been fitted with a miniature statue of David for a hood ornament. It was anatomically correct--and he wasn't 196 Denise Swanson wearing a fig leaf. There were several snickers and pointing fingers in the crowd as people realized what they were seeing.

Ruby, ignoring the group's reaction to her choice of art, threw out her arms in the direction of the decimated vehi- cle and ordered, ``Look what someone's done to my baby.''

The doors hung open at odd angles, and objects that had been inside the car now littered the asphalt. The upholstery had been skinned from the seats, chunks of foam had been dug out and dotted the area around the car, the dashboard had been ripped off, and the carpet peeled back from the floor. Even the ceiling fabric hung in shreds like the tassels on a stripper's costume. It was evident the Cadillac had been searched, and the searcher didn't care about the dam- age inflicted.

Skye examined the destruction. ``I'll call the police.''

``No!'' Ruby grabbed her arm. ``I mean, let's not get carried away. Sorry to rile everyone up. I'm sure it was just kids having some fun.''

Skye raised an eyebrow. ``Kids in Scumble River do not have this kind of fun.''

Bunny stepped between the two women, and although she gave her friend a puzzled glance, she said to Skye, ``Ruby meant that she didn't want to ruin some kid's life for one mistake, not that the kids in Scumble River are bad.''

``We have to call the police.'' Skye crossed her arms. She knew something was going on, and she wasn't letting Ruby and Bunny float down the river of denial. Wally needed to get to