Here Lies a Wicked Man Snippet 10

“Mrs. Peters! How fine—”

“Something smells powerful good in that kitchen, Roxanna. Wish we could put on the feedbag, but Booker here needs to talk to that friend of yours, the one licensed to fly his plane at night. Booker needs to express a package up to the Dallas FedEx.”

“You mean John Lindy.” Well, damn the luck! The only two people through her door didn’t have time to eat.

Unless… she could give them what they needed and land two paying customers at the same time. “I wouldn’t be surprised to see John walk through the door right behind you. He always comes in to eat on Friday night.”

Well, not always. “Let me pour you folks a glass of tea. Then I’ll call John and make sure he’s coming.” As she talked, Roxanna herded the pair toward a table under a ceiling fan.

They looked a bit wilted. The man offered a hand, enfolding Roxanna’s in a strong, warm grip. His steady hazel eyes looked anxious.

“Ms. Larkspur, Booker Krane. If it’s not too much trouble, I’d appreciate your making that call now. It’s important.”

“Well, all right…sure.”

“I’ll pour the iced tea,” Emaline shouted. “I see the pitchers there on the sideboard.”

Roxanna started toward the telephone beside the cash register, changed her mind, and veered instead to the phone in her tiny office. She dialed John Lindy’s number. On the sixth ring, Lindy rumbled a fierce, “Hello!”

He sounded vexed, so Roxanna dropped a purr in her voice.

“John, were you by any chance planning to stop at the inn tonight for some of my pot roast and creamed potatoes? I have a customer for you if you do.”

“Well, now, Miss Roxy.” Lindy’s voice turned to syrup. “I hadn’t planned on driving in, but seeing it’s you asking…”

Roxanna ignored the suggestive hook Lindy dangled at the end of his sentence.

“John, this fellow needs something delivered to Dallas tonight. He’s in a hurry, and weren’t you telling me last weekend that business had fallen off?”

“Flying makes money even when business is lousy.” His voice slurred. Roxanna hoped it wasn’t from drinking. “I’d planned to wind down tonight with a Chuck Norris film, but roast beef does sound better than Spam sandwiches. Now if you were to sweeten that offer some…”

“A slice of fresh peach pie ought to sweeten it.” That wasn’t at all what Lindy meant, but Roxanna put on her best dumb-redhead act. “On the house, of course.”

“Time I fly to Dallas and back, you’ll be closed, and there’ll be a whole lot of Friday night left. Maybe we could watch Chuck Norris together.”

“Well-l-l…” Not a chance, but Lindy could dream.

“You tell your customer fellow I’ll be along shortly.”

Roxanna hung up, appalled that she would stoop so low to sell a few dinners. She’d never go out with Lindy, but she had learned a long time ago how to set a man’s libido to humming like a tuning fork. She’d thought she left the talent behind her, in the dirt where it belonged.

Booker Krane had said the trip was important. Maybe he was a doctor, shipping some kind of rare serum to a dying patient. Thinking about it like that made her feel a shade less grimy. As she retraced her steps down the short hall, Roxanna heard a buzz of voices. She entered the dining room to find nearly every chair filled. Booker Krane was showing a couple to a table while Emaline scurried around with tea pitchers, filling glasses.

Lord, where had all the customers come from? How would she ever get them all served at once? “Be careful what you wish for,” Aunt Jane often said. “It might come crashing down on your head.” Good food served cold was almost as worthless as bad food.

Roxanna took a deep, heart-thumping breath. First things first. She spotted a table where the glasses were already filled and strode toward it, smiling brightly and greeting everyone she passed, letting people know she’d be right back to take their orders. Most folks, she’d found, remained patient as long as they felt included.

Booker Krane ushered yet another family to a table as Roxanna sped toward the kitchen, order pad full. Now, if she could only remember which food went to which table. Luckily, her menu was short, not too many items to mix up. “But every dish a gem,” she’d told a woman who complained about the limited selection. If that was the only complaint tonight, it’d be a blessing.

Roxanna sniffed… something was burning.

Grab the book now while it’s free – Feb 12-14, 2016. Click Here