Dirty Tricks by Judith Ivie

Author:Judith Ivie [Ivie, Judith]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mainly Murder Press
Published: 2014-07-29T00:00:00+00:00

Sunday morning I looked forward to brunch with Strutter and Margo at the Town Line Diner, our regular haunt, and especially so since May and her visiting author Judy Holloway would be joining us. The conversation promised to be lively, as I’d noticed it generally was when May was a part of it.

Judy proved to be a slightly built salt-and-pepper brunette with a penchant for earrings that were color coordinated to her outfit a la Lesley Stahl of 60 Minutes fame. Today’s yellow and rose hoops matched the autumn colors of her light sweater perfectly. Although dissimilar in appearance, she and May were clearly sisters under the skin. As they laughed and joked their way through the introductions, their comfort with each other was evident.

After we settled ourselves in a big booth in a back corner of the diner and placed our orders for bodacious omelets, Margo asked Judy, who had driven in from her home in Doylestown, Pennsylvania, why her husband hadn’t joined her to enjoy our magnificent fall foliage, if nothing else.

“Drag Bob away from his weekend golf games? You must not have been married very long,” Judy laughed. “That’s why I started writing—did May tell you that?—because Bob became addicted to chasing a little white ball around the course, and I turned into a golf widow. I started keeping a journal about the kind of retirement I’d always imagined we would have. Bob made a nice living over the years.”

“What line of work was he in?” I prompted.

“He was a salesman. You wouldn’t believe how much a good one can earn. When one commodity or company would fizzle, he’d just move along to something else, salaried, commissioned, whatever. It didn’t really matter, because he could sell anything. Not having kids, we didn’t have many expenses, and with my teaching salary, great health insurance and a very comfortable pension after thirty-five years, we were all set for a terrific retirement.”

Her laugh was a bit hollow as she reached for her coffee. Margo exchanged glances with May and made a kind-hearted attempt to lighten the mood. “Talk about makin’ lemonade out of lemons, you’re positively an inspiration to golf widows everywhere.” She gave Judy a bawdy wink.

“Speaking of inspiration,” Strutter chimed in, “dare I ask where you get yours? Margo shared one of your recent titles with me, and my goodness, I was blushing before the end of the first chapter.”

I directed a puzzled look her way. “I didn’t think women of color blushed.”

“Oh, yes, we do. You just have to pay attention. We sunburn, too, in case that was your next question.”

Judy covered a smile with her napkin before replying. “To answer your question, inspiration for erotic romance can come from almost anywhere. Mine happens to come from my own love life, which I’m sure surprises you, considering my age and the fact that Bob and I have been married practically forever.”

“Not at all,” I protested politely at the same time that Margo and Strutter murmured equally weak denials.

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