Murder Shoots the Bull Read Online Free PDF

other two simply looked at me.
    “Well, you said you’re going out with a nice Englishman named Cedric tonight.”
    Mary Alice gave me what I swear was my own schoolteacher look. “And Englishmen are noted for their reticence, Patricia Anne.”
    “But you’re not.” Bonnie Blue put her arm around Sister’s shoulder. “You come on back here. I think I’ve got just the thing you want. Got it in today. Little gold braids on it like medals.”
    They went toward the back of the store giggling. I resisted the urge to stick out my tongue and sat down with a magazine. I can’t resist magazines that have tests in them, and this one was a good one—Are You Ready For Marriage? I got a pencil from my purse and passed the test with flying colors. The only question that threw me was “Are you turned on by his/her intimate wear?” I couldn’t say that Fred’s striped boxers that come in packages of three from Sears really turn me on. Particularly from behind where there’s that triangular gusset that Fred calls the ballroom. I did okay on the rest of the questions, though. I was definitely ready for marriage.
    “You like this?” Mary Alice had on a navy pants suit trimmed with wide gold braid around the lapels and across the shoulders.
    “You look like an escapee from H.M.S. Pinafore .”
    “I do not.” She walked over to a full-length mirror and studied herself from several angles. “I kind of like it.”
    “I do, too.” Bonnie Blue had walked up.
    Sister turned, trying to get the rear view. “Patricia Anne said I looked like I’d jumped ship.”
    Bonnie Blue turned to me. “You taking your estrogen?”
    “Yes, I’m taking my estrogen. I just think all that gold braid is a bit much.”
    “You couldn’t get away with it because you’re too little,” Bonnie Blue said. “But God blessed Mary Alice with the size to wear things that make a statement.”
    The pants suit was paid for and in a hang-up bag before I could think of an answer. Given all the women in Birmingham that God has similarly blessed, I realized Bonnie Blue was not going to be a store manager for long. She’s heading for bigger things.
    “Going to lunch,” she called to someone in the back, probably Katrinka, her assistant, who is a wisp of a girl. “Want me to bring you something?”
    “No thanks. I brought some yogurt.”
    “That girl doesn’t eat enough to keep a bird alive,” Bonnie Blue whispered.
    We walked down the street to the Hunan Hut which had at one time been a Pizza Hut. It’s hard to make a Pizza Hut look oriental, and the new owners were smart enough not to do much to change the decor. They had hung a couple of stylized prints of big waves and long-legged birds on one of the walls, and painted the salad bar gold and red, a jaunty effect.
    People were crowded around the salad bar where the luncheon buffet was served. We staked out a table, ordered iced tea, and joined them.
    “Get a lot of rice,” Sister cautioned. “Some of this stuff will take the hair off your tongue.”
    I played it safe and started with a bowl of egg drop soup. I took it back to the table and started eating. Mightas well. It would be cold by the time the other two finished helping their plates.
    “Arthur Phizer’s over yonder in the corner booth,” Mary Alice said as she put her plate down and pulled out her chair.
    “By himself?” I looked toward the booth but could see nothing but the top of a bald head.
    “With some woman.”
    “Redheaded?”
    “Grayheaded. That streaked yellow gray they put bluing on. Lord, that looks good, Bonnie Blue.” This last remark was accompanied by the pointing of a fork toward Bonnie Blue’s loaded plate. “What’s that stuff with the peanuts? I didn’t see that.”
    “Don’t know, but it looks good.” Bonnie Blue settled down for some serious eating.
    “I’ll bring you some, Sister,” I offered.
    I sashayed back to the buffet table, getting a good look at Arthur and the lady who appeared to be in