Dixie Diva Blues Read Online Free PDF Page A

open onto a balcony that runs the width of the building. It’s also conveniently located next door to Phillip’s, a 19th century building that has once housed a saloon and—according to local legend—a former bordello. Now it serves famous hamburgers and fried pies.
    It seemed to take forever, but finally Rob came through one of the doors from the back, and Rayna leaped forward to hug him. While she clung to him tightly, the rest of us politely looked away to give them some privacy. I could only imagine what they were going through. It wasn’t too far of a stretch.
    My ex, Perry Berryman, had incited passionate emotion in me the first few years of our marriage, but we had gradually drifted apart with each different move to another job, another state, another city where life would be better and this time he would keep the job longer than six months—he promised . Perry’s promises were no doubt well-meant, but not well-kept. The strain on our relationship reached the breaking point after our only daughter was already married and on her own, and it was much easier to say goodbye. I have not regretted the decision, and I have no doubt he hasn’t either.
    Rob finally disengaged from Rayna and turned toward us with a grin that didn’t quite erase the haggard lines in his face. “I’m ready to go home,” he said.
    The four of us left the Clarksdale police station as quickly as we could. Rob took the wheel and Rayna sat beside him, so it was Gaynelle, me, and Bitty and the pug-alien in the back seat.
    It was Bitty who finally asked the question I was dying to ask: “So who did you murder— ouch! Gaynelle! Oh. Okay. Are supposed to have murdered, Rob?”
    Fortunately Rob is quite accustomed to Bitty. He just smiled and said, “A guy named Larry Whittier.”
    “Is he someone who deserved killing?”
    I rolled my eyes, but Rob just shook his head and replied, “Probably not. He always seemed pretty harmless to me. Still, he ended up dead—and I didn’t do it.”
    “So how do we get the Clarksdale police to believe that?”
    Rob looked at Bitty in the rearview mirror. “ We don’t do anything. As in you or any other Diva. This is my mess. I’ll take care of it. You ladies stay on the sidelines this time. Agreed?”
    “If that’s what you want,” Bitty said. “But I think you’re forgetting that we’ve gotten pretty good at finding murderers.”
    I could hardly believe my ears. I stuck my head around Gaynelle to look at Bitty to see if she really meant that. In the dark car, it was hard to tell. So I asked.
    “Bitty, have you been drinking, or do you really mean that?”
    “Well good heavens, Trinket, you can’t deny that we’ve almost single-handedly identified the people responsible for several murders lately.”
    Astonished, I looked at Gaynelle, who was looking at Bitty as if she’d suddenly grown another head. Then Gaynelle said, “Bitty, I don’t remember things quite that way.”
    “Really? Oh. Well, if you’ll think about it for a few minutes, I’m sure it will come back to you.”
    I sighed. “Bitty, that’s not exactly what she meant. None of us seem to recall the events the way you do.”
    “For heaven’s sake,” said Bitty, sounding exasperated, “did we or did we not find the murderer in each case? And were we not responsible for leading the police directly to them?”
    “Perhaps, but not on purpose. The police figured things out more quickly than we did. Sergeant Maxwell told us quite bluntly to stop ‘messing around in my murder cases’ before we got badly hurt or went to jail. He didn’t sound as if those options were remote, either.”
    “Well, since he got a promotion out of it he could have shown a bit more gratitude for our efforts,” Bitty responded tartly. “I mean, you almost got killed trying to help.”
    Gaynelle opened her mouth to say something, but I grabbed her arm and shook my head. “Life in Bitty-world is always one-sided,” I said. “The rides are