Temporarily out of Luck by Vicki Batman

Author:Vicki Batman [Batman, Vicki]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Small town; Boy Next Door; Romantic Comedy; Detective; Police; Family Issues; Divorce; Engagement; Wedding; Heroine to the Rescue; Ni
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2021-01-21T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

After the sun rose and headed to the west, to be the supportive sister I claimed to be, I shook my head and drove to Miss Yolanda’s studio. Only one student made an appearance beside me—Allan.

Tracey and Stuart didn’t cancel the tango lesson; yet, they didn’t show either. Probably due to Tracey’s hysteria over being questioned by the police, and quite possibly, she could still be sobbing in her bedroom over Stuart like a two-year-old told to eat her peas. Beginning to feel as if doomsday was plastered all over their wedding, I couldn’t blame her.

I squinted at the gorgeous specimen. Unbelievable. Didn’t he have other duties to fulfill? Like finding who killed Jonson, not hurling accusations at my sister, and almost arresting her. On the other side of the coin, I could try Mom’s “plan” of seducing and quizzing. He did look might-ee fine in his sport coat, navy slacks, and a red tie perfect for binding one’s wrists.

Binding wrists? I can’t believe I had BDSM notions. Lordy.

With his right palm on the glass, Allan gazed out the bank of windows overlooking the parking lot, which undoubtedly, flooded the room with blazing sunlight during daylight hours.

Now, nothing could be seen but inky darkness polka-dotted with stars and silhouettes of gaunt branches which occasionally scratched the glass in an eerie horror fashion.

Allan didn’t move toward me. Just stared with a look which almost dared me to say something.

He shifted back his khaki jacket with his hand. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Message received and duly noted—not the perfect time to chat. Or seduce. Prick.

He checked the time on his watch, and he turned his gaze to the entry. “Where are the other tortured tango-ers? They’re late.”

The Funsisters’s grapevine plan to shun him worked fast. I raised my index finger. “One…Jenny has a sick headache.” False. “Two…Corrine’s in Bayston.” True. “Three…Tracey’s still crying.” True. “Four…Maybe Stuart’s on an out-of-town audit—”

Allan flashed his palm. “I get it. The gang’s mad. So, why are you here?”

“I didn’t want to come, but Mom persuaded me.” I twisted my lips. “For Tracey. I would do almost anything for my family.”

His lips firmed. “I know.”

Did he know? I lengthened my spine in a stretchy yoga pose. “You interrogated my sister.”

Slowly, he turned his head to look. Nothing said. Nothing more.

I locked gazes with Alan for a long while. Finally, my anger festered to boiling. “I’m guessing the rest of the party doesn’t want to be near you because, you know, you might arrest them, too.”

“I see fingers all over this.” He bit into his lower lip. “Mostly yours, telling them I’m a rat and to stay away.”

I shrugged. “Could be.”

“I know you. I’m not surprised.”

I trailed a finger along the wall as I paced six feet away, and when I turned around, changed to the other hand. “All of us hated Jonson, except for Stuart. I’m not sure if Stuart knows about Tracey’s first marriage. I suppose we could have conspired to plot the dastardly deed à la Murder on the Orient Express-style.

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