Bury Me When I'm Dead Read Online Free PDF Page B

thirty-something woman with a red-streaked, flip hairdo, toomuch makeup and a low-cut black blouse looked up. She pulled a red cardigan sweater across her shoulders and opened the plastic slot in the window.
    â€œDo you have your parking ticket and casino card?” she asked.
    â€œUh, no I self-parked, but I wanted to ask you about a guy who works at valet parking. Paul Stringer.”
    The woman gave Charlie a very evil eye. Charlie engaged the digital recorder.
    â€œWhy do you want to know about Paulie? Who are you?”
    â€œI’m a friend of his sister,” Charlie lied. “We all grew up together in the same block on the east side. I’m in town for a couple of days and my mama said she heard Paul worked here parking cars, so I just thought I’d tell him ‘hey’.”
    The cashier shifted from the evil eye to a once-over. She didn’t buy the story at all but was amused by Charlie’s bullshitting ability. Plus, she was curious.
    â€œHe doesn’t work here anymore,” she finally said. “And, I don’t believe you grew up with him and his sister. You don’t look like an eastside girl,” she said with authority.
    â€œWell okay, you found me out. I’m not really Paul’s friend, I’m just looking for him. But I am from the east side. I grew up on Hunt Street.” She extended her hand through the little window. “Charlene Mack.”
    The cashier stared at Charlie’s manicured hand. “Carla Wilcott,” she said showing off her own gel French tips. “I grew up on Field Street.”
    Charlie nodded her recognition and the two girls from the east side of Woodward Avenue dropped their judgments of each other.
    â€œWhy you looking for Paulie?”
    â€œI’m really trying to find his sister, Joyce. I’m a private investigator.”
    â€œYou mean like on TV?”
    â€œSomething like that except I rarely come across dead bodies.”
    â€œWell, Paulie might be dead. He just up and left two or three months ago. He didn’t even come back to pick up his check. And he left his bag.”
    Carla moved, snail-like, to the back of the small booth. She leanedunder a counter to retrieve a blue backpack, revealing thick thighs in black leggings under a tight purple skirt.
    â€œThis has been here since he took off. You can take it if you want, this ain’t no pawn shop,” she said indignantly.
    â€œWere you and Paul close?”
    Carla sucked her teeth. “I was too much woman for that boy. Said he had a girlfriend somewhere and he was always on his phone. But he was nice enough, you know.”
    Charlie thanked Carla and headed to the self-parking lot feeling pretty smug at scoring a bag that belonged to Paul Stringer. She pressed her key fob and the lights on her Corvette flashed, but before she could open the door she was shoved hard against the vehicle and the backpack was ripped from her hand. She spun to find the parking honcho, Walter Barnes, lurking over her. He must have seen Carla give her the bag, she thought, and followed. She considered hurting Walter, but instead pushed the panic button, hoping he’d back off. The alarm startled him but instead of moving away he threw a left hook, glancing Charlie’s chin and making her mad. She lifted her knee hard into his groin and he dropped to the pavement. People were showing interest in the commotion so she picked up the backpack, got in the car and drove off. In the side mirror Charlie saw a couple of people next to Barnes, who remained slumped over. She winced when she put a hand to her tender chin.

    â€œCan you come over?”
    â€œI’m on duty. What’s wrong?”
    â€œNothing. Well, actually, I had a run-in tonight with an asshole and I have a couple of bruises. But I’ve already been seen by nurse Glenlivet.”
    â€œOh. Are you alright?”
    â€œI’m fine. Would just like to see you.”
    â€œMaybe I