Miss Fortune 01 - Louisiana Longshot by Jana Deleon

Author:Jana Deleon [Deleon, Jana]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Jana DeLeon
Published: 2013-12-17T05:00:00+00:00

Despite the enormous hunk of pound cake I’d eaten at Gertie’s house—and not even counting the second serving—I felt my stomach rumble as I scaled Gertie’s back fence and headed home. Apparently my earlier sandwich and all that cake weren’t enough to cover the energy I’d expended running from Rambo.

I really didn’t feel like another sandwich, and I certainly wasn’t going to attempt cooking, not with the way my luck had been lately, so I hurried home and washed my hair. The bald spot was easy to see if I left the hair down, but I could cover it nicely if it was drawn back in a ponytail, which was my preferred hairstyle anyway, as long as I was required to be girly.

I guessed I’d have to see about getting it fixed at one of those “fancy shops in New Orleans” that Ida Belle had talked about before someone noticed and started to wonder. Which reminded me that I needed to check with Walter and see if he had an ETA on that battery for Marge’s Jeep. I didn’t necessarily need a vehicle to traverse all four blocks of Sinful, but I couldn’t exactly walk to New Orleans.

When I had everything cleaned and looking public-presentable again, I grabbed a book on Revolutionary War weapons that I’d found in the bedroom and headed to Main Street for Francine’s Café. There wasn’t any banana pudding on Monday, but my mouth watered thinking about the chicken-fried steak I’d had on Sunday. I could definitely stand a repeat of that meal, and maybe some cobbler. Gertie said they had cobbler every day and all of it was good. It was going to have to be fabulous to top Gertie’s pound cake, but in the name of science, I was willing to sacrifice my stomach for the comparison.

Francine’s was empty except for two gray-haired men sitting in the corner. They looked up in interest when I walked in the door, then leaned in and started whispering. I figured they hadn’t seen anyone under the age of thirty in a decade, so there was probably some speculation of species on their part.

Francine gave me a wave from the grill, then sauntered over with her order pad. “I guess neither my food nor hanging out with the Sinful Ladies got you killed.”

“Not yet, but the jury’s still out on the Sinful Ladies.”

“Ha. You’re a fast study. The Catholics will be gunning for you after that dash you made on Sunday.”

I blinked. Hell, I hadn’t even been thinking along those lines. Jeez, now in addition to everyone else, I had to watch my back for the Catholics. “It’s hard to live a quiet life in this town, isn’t it?”

Francine laughed. “Yeah, people who haven’t ever spent time in small towns, especially southern ones, always have some idea that it’s slow-paced and full of nice people smiling and waving. The second part is mostly true, but there’s never any shortage of drama. I think maybe the lack of things to do has people creating things to disagree about.

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