Fireworks, Freedom, & Felonies (A Camper & Criminals Cozy Mystery Series Book 37) by Tonya Kappes

Author:Tonya Kappes [Kappes, Tonya]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tonya Kappes Books
Published: 2024-06-23T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The morning sun had barely peeked over the horizon when I spotted Dottie storming out of her camper on her way over to the office.

A lit cigarette dangled from her lips, and her usually flamboyant demeanor was even more pronounced, thanks to her flustered state. She wore a vibrant pink housecoat adorned with feathers, some of which fluttered to the ground as she stomped toward the office, her slippers slapping angrily against the pavement.

I grimaced and turned from the window to focus on the computer screen as if I were checking in on new online registrations.

When she entered the office, she was muttering to herself, a stream of colorful southern expressions painting a vivid picture of her feelings about Henry.

“That no-good, two-timin’ son of a gun!” Dottie exclaimed as she threw open the window to flick ash from her cigarette. “I swear, that man could charm the honey from the bees, but he’d just as soon sting ya as look at ya!” Her voice crescendoed as she paced back and forth.

“And to think, I fell for his sweet-talkin’ again.” She plopped down into her chair, causing a small cloud of feathers to rise from her housecoat. “Must’ve had my head screwed on backward. Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice—well, that’s just a bucket of fried fools, ain’t it?”

“Two,” I was going to say, picking up on the two-timing comment, but she wasn’t about to give me any airtime.

Her hands gestured wildly, accentuating each point. “He’s slicker than a boiled onion, that one. Slides right into your life and before you know it, he’s slithered right back out, leaving a trail of slime!”

Dottie paused and took a long drag from her cigarette, her eyes narrowing. Again, I was about to say something, but her pause ended.

“And let me tell you, Mae, if that man’s lips are movin’, he’s lyin’. He’d lie 'bout the color of the sky if he thought it’d get him somewhere. I'd bet my last dollar he’d sell ice to Eskimos and call it charity!” she screamed so loudly that I squeezed my eyes shut.

She stood up abruptly, the chair screeching back. Then she bolted herself over to my desk, where she planted both her palms as her cigarette smoke curled up, and leaned in. Last night’s leftover lipstick stained the deep lines around her mouth.

“This time, I’m done for good. He can pack up his charms and peddle them elsewhere. I’d rather kiss a rattlesnake than let that man sweet-talk me again.”

I bit my lips together, wondering if it was time for me to ask her what on earth all of this was about and if they’d really been dating.

As she finally settled down, her breathing heavy with the effort of her tirade, she looked at me, a wry smile breaking through. “Thanks for listening, honey. Just needed to vent. You know how it is.”

I nodded, understanding all too well the therapeutic nature of a good vent.

Dottie calmed down, her feathers slightly ruffled but her spirit undampened.

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