Snow Job by Kate Kulig

Author:Kate Kulig
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery, new orleans, french quarter, cozy, bookstore, bloody murder, zofia smith
Publisher: Kate Kulig

20

Seven p.m. What had been blessed silence was now cursed frustration. The only thing keeping me from pacing the floor to burn nervous energy was I felt too ill to move more than absolutely necessary. Deep breathing was a serious effort. Breathing through both nostrils was a challenge of epic proportion. I spent the remainder of the afternoon and into the early evening sprawled on the couch under a blanket in a half-doze, alternately drinking tea and ginger ale. My appetite had vanished completely. I guessed my fever to be around 101, but Michael didn’t appear to own a thermometer. I took aspirin, but it didn’t seem to help. I desperately wanted to sleep, but I was afraid of missing a phone call. I didn’t know how to get to Michael’s voice mail if I missed a call, so I avoided the Nyquil. I could sleep when I knew he was okay.

Which was the other reason why I was still here. If Michael was in some kind of trouble, he knew I was at his place and might not have a chance to make more than one phone call. I explained all this to Marie after confirming that yes, I had a doctor’s appointment tomorrow afternoon. She said she understood, but she also thought I was nuts.

“I know you want to be there in case he calls, but why don’t you just forward his phones to your place and take a cab home, Zo?”

“Marie, I don’t want to move. I’m sick. I’m worried. I’m worried sick. Could you pick me up some clothes for me, and a pair of shoes?” Footwear was the one thing I didn’t have over here and I was running out of clean clothing.

“As soon as I’m done with my last client. I’ve got to show him some office space downtown, but he won’t get here until six-thirty. He probably won’t take more than an hour or so. Think Michael would mind if I stayed for dinner?”

“Thanks. You can eat I don’t feel much like it, but I’d love the company. Unless you want instant bachelor food, we’ll have to order out. I love the man, but John Besh he is not. There is not a lot of what we would identify as food here.”

“I’d rather have Instant Bachelor.” She laughed. “I was thinking of Chinese. You’ve got to have something—maybe some hot & sour soup? Asian penicillin. That’ll clear your sinuses. I’ll be over around eight, eight-thirty after I run by your place. You know, if you just moved in with the guy, you wouldn’t have this dilemma.”

“I didn’t hear that. See you at eight.”

The phone rang immediately after I hung it up. “Michael?” I asked. No answer, just a dial tone. The caller ID said “No Info.” How useful. What was the damn point of caller ID if it didn’t ID anyone?

Speaking of not useful, Dodson was certainly turning out to be exactly that. No word from the man via email, and nothing on my voicemail either.

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