to her seat. She smiled, sweetly, at them both, then slowly sat her butt down.
“This is from the judge and me, Dix.” Rather than rise, Rochelle handed the package to Dylan who handed it to me.
Rochelle was famous for her gifts. This had to be something spectacular. More Rolling Stones tickets? I knew they were touring again! It was a small package — hey maybe it was an iPod.
I tore open the package and held up — “Underwear?”
Rochelle and Mrs. P roared with laughter, smacking their hands dramatically on the table as I held the black, sequined thong thingie and clenched my butt cheeks tighter just thinking about it.
“Well, someone’s been talking,” I said, looking accusatorily at Mrs. P.
“Sorry, honey. Cat’s out of the bag. I cleaned your room, remember? It’s not green and tasselly like that other stuff, but its kind of … you.”
“Does Judge Stephanopoulos know about this?” I asked, trying — and failing miserably — to sound severe.
“Hell, she picked them out.”
Again, Mrs. P and Rochelle cracked up. Actually, now half the bar was laughing out loud, as I slowly lowered the underwear back into the package.
“Not in a million years can I imagine myself in this,” I confessed.
“I can,” Dylan said, waggling his eyebrows.
Eye waggle notwithstanding, he wasn’t laughing like the others. Smiling? Oh, yeah. But not laughing. Suddenly, it seemed like he’d moved closer, even though he hadn’t changed positions. I could feel the warmth radiating off his thigh, so close to mine. And even though it still kind of scared me, I let myself feel him close. And it felt pretty darn okay. He pushed his other parcel toward me.
Okay, I was getting the drift of this little gathering. Theme related — mementos of my tryst with the Flashing Fashion Queen. So when I examined Dylan’s parcel, feeling along the square edges and sharp corners, I half knew what it was before I had even opened the framed picture.
“Dirty picture, Dylan?”
“Fine art, Dix.”
It was the front page of the yellow legal pad that I’d been using the day that Jeremy Poole, decked out in drag as Jennifer Weatherby, had walked into my office. The tight little circles were there. The web-footed duck tracks I’d drawn as a subconscious reaction to the Flashing Fashion Queen’s use of the word “floozie”. (Hey, that’s just how my brain works. But say it fast five times yourself and see if it doesn’t sound like something that might come out of an inebriated Donald Duck). But now another part of that well-doodled legal pad caught my attention. The ladders. My eyes stung as I realized these were not ladders to nowhere that I’d been drawing. No, these open ended steps were ladders to
“Ladies, and gentlemen,” the DJ, said, “Six Shooters karaoke night begins! Any brave souls willing to open the night with a ballad? Maybe one of the ladies?”
The DJ looked hopefully around the room. Hopefully, then desperately, anywhere except where Dylan Foreman sat beside me.
“Guess that’s my cue,” Dylan said. “My public awaits.”
I cringed. He really had no clue how bad he was. “Dylan why don’t you—”
He stood, kissed me on the cheek. “You can open the cards now, Dix.” He straightened, then made his way to the waiting microphone and the increasingly unhappy looking DJ, walking with the easy, confident swagger of a rock star.
“Put on my usual, Charlie,” Dylan said to the DJ.
This wouldn’t be pretty.
I opened the business card box, pulled one out of the neat row, and held it up for inspection, not unaware that Dylan was watching me closely as I did.
I read:
I looked to Dylan who, with a nod and raised eyebrows, sought my reaction. I raised my drink in a toast to him.
“To the future, Dix,” he said in the microphone.
“To the future, Dylan,” I replied. Though of course he couldn’t hear me over the din of the crowd. But he smiled, so I knew he’d read my lips.
I smiled back.
Oh boy.
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a review on the book’s page at Amazon.com.
~~~~~*~~~~~
To read an excerpt from FAMILY JEWELS,
the next Dix Dodd Mystery, please scroll down.
About the Author
N.L. Wilson is actually Norah Wilson, award-winning author of romantic suspense and paranormal romance novels. However, since the Dix Dodd series is about as far away as a body can get from the intensity and angst of Norah's other stories, she figured she should try to signal the difference. She also writes young adult paranormal with writing partner, literary author Heather Doherty, under the name Wilson Doherty.
Norah lives in Fredericton, New Brunswick, Canada with her husband, two adult children, a Rotti-Lab mix, and five rats (the pet kind).
Also available from this Author:
GUARDING SUZANNAH, Book 1 in the Serve and Protect Series
SAVING GRACE, Book 2 in the Serve and Protect Series
PROTECTING PAIGE, Book 3 in the Serve and Protect Series
NEEDING NITA, A free Novella in the Serve and Protect Series
LAUREN’S EYES, Winner of the Dorchester New Voice in Romance Contest
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THE MERZETTI EFFECT
NIGHTFALL (coming soon)
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As Wilson Doherty (writing team of Norah Wilson & Heather Doherty)
THE SUMMONING: Book 1 in the Gatekeepers Series
ASHLYN’S RADIO
