The Countertenor Wore Garlic (The Liturgical Mysteries) Read Online Free PDF Page A

Dupont, and perfected the Dip-N-Tan, a contraption invented by her son D'Artagnan, in which her customers could hang from a trapeze and be lowered into a vat of tanning fluid. It took a few months to get the formula right, and for a while her plus-sized customers resembled giant mutant sweet potatoes, but soon the women in St. Germaine all looked as though they spent every weekend, summer or winter, on the beaches of Jamaica. Added bonus: no tan lines. Above the Dip-N-Tan was a sign that read

    I am dark, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem.
    Song of Solomon 1:5

    Noylene was nothing if not biblical and the Dip-N-Tan was a rousing success. Unfortunately, Wormy couldn't stick around long enough to enjoy the fruits of the Beautifery, the Dip-N-Tan, or even the profits of his own venture, the Bellefontaine Cemetery (affectionately known to the locals as "Wormy Acres"), due to his murderous tendencies and well-founded jealousy concerning his lovely wife. He was currently doing twenty-five-to-life in the Big House for giving in to the green-eyed monster and whacking Russ Stafford in the head with a giant rock during the Bible School's reenactment of the Stoning of Stephen. After his conviction, Noylene sold the cemetery, filed for divorce, married Hog, and never visited Wormy, not even once.
    "Here y'all are," said Noylene, returning with an armload of plates. She set them absently on the table and headed back into the kitchen.
    "That's not right," said Nancy.
    "Yeah," said Dave. "She forgot to fill my coffee cup. And she gave me your meatloaf."
    "These pancakes look good, though," said Nancy as she poured the hot maple syrup over the stack.
    "Hey! Wait a minute... I don't like that much syrup!"
    "It's okay, Dave," said Nancy as she lifted a forkful of flapjacks to her lips. "You'll enjoy the meatloaf just as well."
    The fourth chair at the table scooted out with a scrape and Pete plunked himself down.
    "Busy morning," he said, "and we haven't even started." He pointed to the plate glass window that constituted the front wall of the Slab. Since I'd come in ten minutes ago, there were six customers inside the door waiting for a seat to open up, and a waiting line on the outside clear past the window. Beyond the line of hungry people and across the street, Sterling Park was already bustling with folks coming in for the weekend. Parking was at a premium and if the library lot was full, the best bet was down the road at the grocery store or maybe the bank. Of course, you might get lucky and manage a spot on the square if you happened to be in the right place at the right time.
    "Aw, jeez," whined Dave. "I hate meatloaf."
    There were four eateries in the vicinity if you counted the coffee shop behind St. Barnabas. Holy Grounds, our Christian Coffee Shop, was run by Kylie and Biff Moffit. They'd had a rough first year, but were now back into the busy season and looking profitable. The coffee was good and they sold an assortment of muffins and other baked goods to go with it. The Ginger Cat was diagonally across the square. It was an upscale, snooty luncheonette owned and run by Annie Cooke, but she didn't open for breakfast. The Bear and Brew around the corner served pizza and beer, but not until eleven. It was no wonder the Slab did a brisk business.
    "I have a delivery for you in the back," Pete said to me. "Kent Murphee brought it by early this morning."
    "Kent Murphee?" said Nancy between bites of Dave's pancake breakfast. "The coroner? What is it?"
    "Two big boxes of dead baby squirrels. I've got them in the walk-in freezer for you."
    "You're kidding," said Dave, who'd been poking around his meatloaf before finally deciding the cheese grits and eggs were edible even though they'd been touching the edge of the gravy. "What for? A Halloween prank?"
    "Probably the lunch special," said Nancy. "Squirrel head gumbo."
    "I love squirrel head gumbo," said Pete. "Grew up on it. 'Course they say now you're not supposed to eat the brains.