Double Shot (28 page)

She invited me to stand up, but kept a firm foot on Mr. Simmons’s chest so he couldn’t move. She also told Jeff Fogle she’d shoot his other arm if he tried to get up before the ambulance arrived.

I caught Kim’s eye. “Thank you for saving the day.” I held out my hand and introduced myself unnecessarily. “Wilson’s been telling me how great you are. Now I see why.”

She shrugged and shook my hand. “Kim Leary,” she said. “You really didn’t know who I was?”

“Heck no. You could have knocked me over with a feather when you stood up and started shooting.”

“You were already knocked over,” she reminded me.

Tiffany joined us. I turned and gave her a hug, but she brushed off my thank you also. “You and your friends have been heroic all week,” she insisted. “That’s why Captain Rye added these two to the watch.” She pointed a hot pink fingernail at her colleagues on the floor, and I shook my head as it finally dawned on me.

The Ogler and Mr. Leather had not even been at the Wade On Inn our first night out. Wilson must have added them to the mix once he understood Karen and Candy would be joining me each night.

“We should be thanking you, Jessie,” Tiffany was saying. But when we heard sirens out in the parking lot, she and Kim quickly excused themselves to start getting statements from the crowd.

“The Captain will kill us if he comes in and sees us dilly-dallying with you.” Tiffany winked, and the hot pink Sass ass skedaddled away.

Karen and Candy were still surrounded by the Quinns and company, so I walked over to the pool table to see how everyone was holding up.

Ethel and Doreen looked a bit shell-shocked, but the old ladies insisted that all they needed was a good night’s rest, and they’d be raring to go once again.

“Kevin’s been telling us all about you, Jessie.” Doreen emphasized the J. “Are you really Adelé Nightingale? I love her stuff!”

I thanked her for her enthusiasm, and Ethel asked if I’d be willing to do a book signing at The Cotswald Estates. Of course, I said I would be delighted.

I told Kevin he hadn’t gotten rid of me either. “I’ll be seeing you at the library.” I whispered that I planned on offering him my editorial and proofreading services when he was further along with
Social Interactivity and Gambling Protocol Among Early Twenty-First Century Billiard Players
.

“
An Urban Study
,” he added. He tilted his head toward the other end of the pool table, where Spencer Erring was trying to get Avis Sage to sit down. “I think someone over there wants to say goodbye to you.”

***

I stepped away and approached Spencer. “Sorry if I put you in danger back there.” I waved to where Melissa had been brandishing her gun.

“It wasn’t your fault, Tes—I mean, Jessie.” Spencer looked up from Avis. “The Wiseman’s been talking about you. And he’s convinced me the pool table isn’t where I’m meant to be. So I think I’ll go home and try flirting with my wife for a change.” He shrugged. “Who knows?” he said. “Maybe Dixie will take me back.”

I hugged him and wished him luck.

“Bring some of those hugs over this way, Spencer honey,” Doreen called out. Spencer flashed me one last dimple and walked off.

Ever the gentleman, Avis Sage stood up when I turned to him. He was looking very, very sad. I imagine I was, too.

“Are you okay, Mr. Sage?”

He reached for my hand and kissed it. Then he looked up and smiled. “I’d bet my Balabushka cue stick you’re Leon Hewitt’s daughter. Is the old man right?”

I gave him a hug. “How’ve you been all these years, sir?”

“I can’t complain, Miss Jessie.”

“But how did you figure it out?”

“The old man had his suspicions the first night you came in here.” He pointed to the pool table. “You remember that triple bank shot for the seven you made in our second game?”

“Kind of brilliant?” I asked.

“Oooo-eeee, little girl. That shot had Cue-It Hewitt written all over it.”

He stopped smiling. “I was real sorry to hear about your Daddy, by the way. He was one of the greats.”

I nodded and the tears started flowing.

There was a whole lot of commotion behind us, as the paramedics arrived. I heard Wilson and Russell calling out orders behind me. But I figured they knew what they were doing, and indulged in a good cry with the Wiseman.

Eventually we got a grip, and I explained what I had been doing with myself the past few decades, how I ended up playing pool at the Wade On Inn, and what the heck I was doing with masquerading as a brunette.

“And your Mama?” Mr. Sage asked. “You be sure to apologize for my rude behavior the other night. I didn’t suppose she wanted me to recognize her, either.”

“But you did?”

“Oh, little girl, I’m not likely to forget Tessie Hewitt. You know about your Mama?”

“What about her?”

“She invited me into her home and to her supper table, didn’t she? A white woman in South Carolina? This was back in the early seventies, remember.”

I stared at Mr. Sage as it dawned on me what he was saying.

“Not only was Tessie Hewitt beautiful, she was gracious beyond all get out. Inviting a black hustler like me to Easter dinner with her family?” Mr. Sage was shaking his head. “Old man will never forget that.”

“Mother was sorry she couldn’t acknowledge you the other night,” I said and explained why I had gotten her involved in things.

Avis asked after her health, but it was him I was concerned about. “No offense, sir, but you’re getting too old for this.” I waved at the pool table.

He disagreed and insisted he was even planning to go back on the road. “In honor of the Fox.” He chuckled and assured me he’d probably be dead within a month. “I’m ready, though. When it happens I’ll join your Daddy and Fritz at that big pool table in the sky.”

I was threatening to cry again when Wilson tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around to accept a huge hug and an even bigger scolding. He didn’t let go of me, but he did offer a significant lecture about putting myself in danger. Yadda, yadda, yadda.

Eventually we remembered Mr. Sage, and Wilson freed one arm to shake his hand.

“This is Captain Rye.” I turned around to Avis. “I believe you’ve already met?”

“He your beau, Miss Jessie?”

I nodded. “Yes, Mr. Sage. I suppose he is.”

Avis looked up at Wilson, who was at least twice his size. “Me and your lady friend are thinking of taking us a road trip.” He winked at me. “The two of us could hustle the pants off every shark from here to San Francisco. What do you say, Miss Jessie?”

I raised an eyebrow at Wilson. “That does sound tempting.”

“Take some advice from the old man.” Avis spoke to Wilson. “Hold on tight to this lady friend of yours, before someone younger than me comes along and steals her away.”

“Don’t worry about that, sir.” Wilson pulled me back against him and spoke into my left ear. “I love this lady friend of mine way too much to let anyone steal her away.”

I blinked at Mr. Sage.

Wilson Rye loves me? Way too much?

And here I thought I had just escaped grave danger.

Epilogue

“Today we’ll work on the happy ending,” I told Snowflake.

The confrontation between Trey Barineau, Sarina Blyss, and Winnie Dickerson versus the altogether evil Agnes promised to be a doozey indeed. But Adelé Nightingale was far too exhausted to think about it that morning.

Especially since I had not yet decided how Norwood would react during the showdown at the Blyss family home. Like his wife, was he evil also? Or would he take the side against Agnes, and in support of his lovely sister Sarina?

“We’ll worry about poor Norwood’s dilemma tomorrow,” I said, and instead concentrated on Father Conforti and Barnaby. I worked on moving them along to St. Celeste at a nice, slow, steady pace befitting of Adelé Nightingale’s mood.

As promised, Father Conforti finally did meet with Constable Klodfelder, and he formally identified Sarina Blyss. All charges against her were officially dropped. And as soon as the Constable made known her innocence, all of St. Celeste was atwitter in eager anticipation of the Duke of Luxley’s impending nuptials.

Thus, on the day before Trey Barineau’s twenty-eighth birthday, Father Conforti united him and his lady love in holy matrimony. The bride looked more radiant than ever in her golden necklace and the glorious wedding gown Mrs. Dickerson had created for the occasion.

Trey’s white carriage awaited the newlyweds as they emerged from the church. As the Duke lifted the new Duchess into the passenger seat he mentioned how anxious he was to show her Luxley Manor.

Sarina blushed and said her new home would have to wait. “I would much rather visit the lavender field right now, dearest,” she said.

Happy to oblige his bride’s every desire, Trey drove them away.

***

I was still writing the climactic—and I do mean climactic—love scene in the lavender field when Wilson arrived. He let himself in and read over my shoulder as my fingers flew across the keyboard. Adelé Nightingale was in a groove.

Wilson waited.

Finally, I had the lovers resting in a bed of lavender, panting gently in each other’s arms.

I sat back. “What do you think?” I asked, my eyes still on the computer screen.

He reached over and pointed to the passage that had left even Trey Barineau sapped of energy.

“Let’s give that a try,” he suggested.

I twirled around and reminded him of his age. And mine. “I’m not nearly as lithe and limber as Sarina Blyss-Barineau,” I warned.

He grinned. “Well,” he sang, “let’s give it a try anyway. What do you say?”

I said I admired his optimism.

We were recovering a while later when Wilson broached the all-important subject. “So, Jessie?” He put his arms behind his head and stared at my ceiling. “How much money did you end up winning this week?”

“Enough.”

“Enough to take an overworked and underpaid civil servant out for a few fancy dinners?” he asked hopefully.

I reached over and pulled a seriously impressive stack of fifties and hundreds from my nightstand.

“In Hawaii,” I said and dropped the cash onto his chest.

The End

Please Keep Reading

All her sleuthing in
Double Shot
just about wore Jessie out. She and Wilson are headed to Hawaii for a much-needed vacation. But of course things won’t work out exactly as planned. Find out why in the third book in Cindy Blackburn’s Cue Ball Mysteries series:
Three Odd Balls
.

Amazon

Three Odd Balls - Sneak Peek

Chapter 1

“I’m loving it, Babe!” Louise shouted into the phone. “Love, love, loving it!!”

I held the receiver a foot away from my ear and wondered why my literary agent even bothered using a telephone. Geez Louise Urko speaks so loudly, and with so many exclamation points, I would have heard her if she had simply opened her office window and bellowed out. Never mind that she works in Manhattan. And I live in North Carolina.

The reason for her excitement?
My South Pacific Paramour
, my alter ego Adelé Nightingale’s next novel. Adelé was venturing into new and untried territory with this one. Instead of placing her energetic and altogether over-sexed lovers somewhere in Europe, sometime in the sixteenth century, Adelé had Delta Touchette and Skylar Staggs seeking adventure and discovering romance in a tropical paradise.

“In the nineteenth century no less!” Louise was shouting. “It’s, like, practically a contemporary, Jessica!”

I shook my head at Louise’s math. “Maybe by Adelé Nightingale standards,” I said. “But the sixteenth century was starting to bore me.”

“Oh, absolutely! All those lords and dukes and earls, with their castles and turrets and dungeons? They were getting downright dreary.”

“And this new setting makes sense.” I winked at my cat Snowflake. “What with Wilson and I heading to Hawaii tomorrow for seven days of sun and fun.”

“You’ll be inspired, Jessica! A vacation is just the ticket!”

Speaking of which, I remembered the task at hand and returned to packing. “Heck,” I said as I dropped a tube of sunscreen into the suitcase on my bed. “I may even be able to write off part of this vacation as a research expense. The IRS doesn’t need to know I never bother with anything so tedious as actual research, do they?” I rummaged around in the closet for the ridiculous pair of daisy-adorned flip flops I had purchased for the trip. “But no.” I stood up, flip flops in hand. “I’m far too law-abid—”

“Oh my God!” Louise interrupted. “I just had a fantastical idea, Jessica! I mean, beyond fantastical!”

“Oh?” I tossed the new shoes onto the bed, where Snowflake took immediate interest in the fake daisies.

“I’m coming!” she shouted.

My face dropped. “Excuse me?”

“To Hawaii! With you! And Wilson! What an utterly fantastical idea! I’ll meet you there!”

My face dropped a little further with each new exclamation point, and I struggled to find my voice as Geez Louise continued on her merry and insane way.

“I need a vacation,” she shouted. “And I’ve never been to Hawaii! And I’ve never met that hunky heartthrob of yours! The man who inspired Adelé Nightingale to new heights of sexual fantasy? I am dying, dying, dying to meet Wilson Rye the mystery man for myself. I must meet your paramour, Jessica! Must, must, must!”

“But now?” I squeaked. “During my vacation?”

“Yes, now! Of course, now! I can help you with him.”

“Help?” I took the sandals away from Snowflake and hid them in the suitcase.

“Yes, help! I’ll help you uncover the mystery man’s deep dark secrets! You know how you’ve been wondering about his past, Jessica? Well, just leave it to Louise! By the end of this vacation, all will be revealed. Every single, scintillating detail. The man will be an open book, I tell you. Oh! And that gives me another idea, Jessica!”

“I think I need to sit down,” I said.

“The plot for
My South Pacific Paramour
! I’ll help you with that, too! No more plot plight for Adelé Nightingale. We’ll lounge by the pool, sip silly drinks—you know, the kind with little umbrellas in them—and brainstorm together. I can’t wait! Can’t, can’t, can’t!”