The Ice House Cafe by Miller Chinle

Author:Miller, Chinle
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
Publisher: Yellow Cat Publishing
Published: 2014-09-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 29

“I’m amazed at how quickly you got rid of that squatter,” Dusty was telling Bud over a glass of spritzer. They were seated in two antique wrought-iron chairs on a small patio in the front of the castle.

She continued, “One minute he was here, the next, gone. You’re very effective, I can say that.”

Bud sipped his drink, trying to figure out the flavor. Peach? Raspberry? He wasn’t sure if Dusty was still mad at him or not for refusing to work as her private detective, but the way she was kind of fawning over him, he suspected she had some new task she wanted him to do.

“Would you like to come inside?” Dusty asked, pointing to the front doors of the castle.

“I’m OK, but thanks,” Bud replied. “My wife can’t wait to take the tour, but we’ll wait until the big party you’re having. By the way, what flavor is this spritzer?”

“Watermelon,” she answered. “I get it at a specialty shop in Aspen. It’s imported from Greece. I had no idea Greece grew melons, did you? It’s quite good, isn’t it?”

“Delicious,” Bud replied, though he really didn’t think it was nearly as good as the watermelon spritzers Wilma Jean bought up in Price at Smith’s Grocery. But he was now wondering if maybe he shouldn’t be trying to develop a new market for Krider’s melons. Someone who made spritzers might be interested in buying some.

Now Dusty took on a more serious air.

“I used to be married to a very wealthy man,” she told Bud. “There was a time I would never have condescended to drink mere spritzers. We lived high on the hog, so to say, and drank only fine wines.”

Bud replied, “Well, for me, spritzers are kind of a treat.”

Dusty smiled. “I wasn’t raised wealthy, though we always had enough. When Callie’s estate finishes going through probate, I’ll be considerably well-off, and once I sell this stupid castle, I’ll be rid of this responsibility and can travel or do whatever I want. But how much do you want for getting rid of that nasty man with the dogs?”

Bud replied, “Dusty, all I did was say hello to him, then give him a ride a couple of miles. He’s still in the neighborhood—staying over on Gus Dearhammer’s property, your neighbor. He’s actually an OK guy.”

Bud decided not to mention that Sprocket had found Callie’s diary, and probably on the castle grounds.

He continued, “But the deal was that you have my friends play at the party, remember? No need to pay me, but I do need to get a check for them.”

“Of course,” Dusty said, reaching into her jacket pocket and handing Bud the check for Howie.

“They’re very excited to be able to play here, Dusty, so thanks for making that happen,” Bud replied.

Now Dusty shifted in her seat, leaning towards Bud, her long flowery dress catching the sun where silver threads formed little stars around the flowers.

“Bud, I need your help. I know you already told me no, but I’m begging you this time.

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