Dying for a Dude (Laurel McKay Mysteries Book 4) Read Online Free PDF Page B

I’d frequently criticized my ex for acting first and thinking second. Hank stared at Spencer for a few seconds before he raised his right fist and punched his about-to-be former employer’s pudgy jaw.
    Spencer’s beady black eyes widened. He stepped back, and then he dropped. To the ground. Landing at my feet, in fact, right on my polished toes. Although on the short side, Spencer’s entire weight pressing on my bare toes caused me to shriek.
    Spencer’s wife, Janet, whom I knew from our weekly Zumba classes together, joined in the chaos. Her screams rose to an operatic level as she rushed to her husband’s aid. Within seconds, two El Dorado County Sheriff’s deputies formed uniformed bookends on both sides of Hank. He stood silent, chest heaving, rubbing his red swollen fist.
    One of the officers assisted the candidate to his feet.
    Spencer pointed a shaking finger at Hank and sputtered, “Arrest that man.”
    “Hey, hold on there,” said Stan, rushing to our aid. With his supersized cowboy hat, he looked as fierce as Yosemite Sam.
    Two more deputies appeared, both of whom I knew since we’d all graduated from El Dorado High School. Fortunately for Hank, the star quarterback of our high school team, the men had all played football together.
    Hank directed a woozy smile at the taller, sandy-haired deputy. “Hiya, Fletch.”
    Fletch shook his head at my ex. “Hey, pal, I think you’ve had one beer too many.” Chuck Kramer, the other officer, turned to Darius Spencer. “Are you all right, sir?”
    Some Good Samaritan had filled Spencer’s bandanna with ice cubes and he pressed the frozen compress against his reddening jaw. The glare Spencer sent Hank looked even icier than the compress.
    I elbowed Hank and whispered in his ear. “You better apologize before they arrest you for assault.”
    “Yeah,” Stan said in agreement, “and throw in a free night’s lodging for you at the county jail.”
    Chuck ushered Spencer and his wife over to a picnic table so they could converse in private, while Fletch remained with Hank and me. I hoped Janet wouldn’t hold Hank’s punching her husband against me. She seemed like a nice woman although somewhat on the quiet side. Even though future fisticuffs were unlikely, I wondered how she felt about her husband running for office. It couldn’t be easy assuming the public role of a candidate’s spouse.
    The rest of the spectators drifted off, many of them to the dance floor where the band rollicked once again.
    “What were you thinking?” I asked my ex.
    “I guess I wasn’t, thinking that is.” Hank shrugged his shoulders. “Must have been a gut reaction to him firing me. Geez. What a mess.”
    “If you don’t want the kids to see your face plastered over the front page of the Mountain Democrat , you’ll suck it up and apologize to Spencer.”
    Hank exchanged glances with Deputy Fletcher, his former teammate. Fletch nodded in agreement. The two of them walked over to the table where Spencer held court. I followed, prepared to latch on to Hank’s fists should he feel compelled to slug his boss again.
    “I’m sorry. I was totally out of line,” Hank said to the candidate. “Guess I had a few too many beers. Please accept my apologies.”
    Spencer narrowed his eyes. I could almost visualize the inner workings of a politician’s brain as he tried to determine whether forgiveness would be beneficial to his campaign. He finally stood and put out his hand to Hank. My ex shook it heartily.
    “So I’m back on the job?”
    Spencer’s forehead creased then he nodded.
    “Looks like you don’t need us here anymore,” said Fletch. He turned to Hank. “Obviously you’re in no condition to drive. Do you have a ride home?”
    Hank gazed at me with a worried expression on his face. What’s an ex-wife to do but agree to pilot her former spouse to his house?
    “I’ll get him home,” I told Fletch. “Thanks for your help.”
    “Not a problem. Hank never could hold