Baited Read Free Page B

joy in telling me he didn’t need my money. The real kicker?” Her razor sharp laugh sliced the stale air like her deadly fingernails. “I’m the one who encouraged him to get a fucking hobby. I bought him his first goddamn rod and reel.”
    Ouch.
    “The one thing he had that was worth anything was that ridiculously expensive fishing boat. And he willed it to his fishing buddy, Rich Barber.”
    The hair on the back of my neck stood up. “Why?”
    “Good question. Maybe you should ask Rich.”
    Oh, I planned to. “Have you told this to the police?”
    “Hell, yes. Guess they questioned Rich after I told them about the new development, but they had no reason to hold him, so they let him go.”  
    The lighter in her hand clicked open and shut in a hypnotizing rhythm. “Rich doesn’t have a pot to piss in. So, tell me, in your expert opinion. Isn’t inheriting a fifty-thousand dollar boat an incentive to make someone disappear?”
    Absolutely. Rich Barber had seemed so oddly sincere.
    Or was Cindy Jo leading me astray? Another possibility skated through my mind: Were she and Rich in it together?
    Before I could comment, the door opened and a pack of furry creatures streaked past my ankles. I picked a hairball off my linen trousers and dropped it onto the shag carpet.
    Cindy Jo’s face cracked into an enormous grin. She scooped the beribboned beasts onto her lap. “Oh, don’t you all look sweet.” The animals began jumping up and licking her face in earnest.  
    When she puckered her lips to accept the enthusiastic doggie kisses, I turned away. Eww. I’d almost rather witness old people doing the nasty than watch this disgusting display of canine affection.  
    Mandy stood in the doorway, holding out a tiny, apricot colored ball of fluff. “You forgot one,” she cooed, rubbing the fuzzy thing under her double chin. “Isn’t she just precious? Melanie said she cowered after the bubble bath, but sat regal as a princess for the comb-out and blow dry.” Mandy smiled at me and whispered conspiratorially, “She had her first salon appointment today.”
    “Nice,” I mumbled, clueless as to how to respond.
    “You ready to do their nails?”
    “Yeah. Bring that new fuchsia.” Cindy Jo tousled a furry ear. “It’s a perfect match for these darling bows.”
    I leapt up to follow Mandy out the door. My preliminary report to Rich had more questions than answers, and he hadn’t paid me nearly enough to watch dogs get a pedicure. Or was it a pet-i-cure? A paw-di-cure? I bit my lip to keep from chortling at my inappropriate sense of humor.
    “That’s my precious, precious girl,” Cindy Jo baby-talked, kissing the top of the dog’s head. Her gaze met mine and she proudly gathered her pets to her bosom. “These are my babies. Eeny”—she patted a black head, then pointed to the gray one—“Meeny”—she scratched the ivory chin—“Miny—”  
    “Suppose that one is Moe,” I quipped.
    Her mouth flattened into a grim line, her eyes turning as hard as a pumice stone. “No. Moe passed on unexpectedly a few months ago.” She focused her attention to the whimpering dog. “This angel was sent to fill that empty space in my heart.”
    “What is her name?” I asked, trying to make up for stepping in a verbal pile of doggie doo-doo.
    “Mignon.”
    Not such an odd name, considering the fuzz ball was a French poodle, but I was hoping she’d been christened Curly…And people told me watching too much TV would cause my mental muscles to atrophy.
    “I won’t keep you. I’ll check in again, but if you hear from JC, will you let us know?”
    Her lips curved into a disbelieving smirk—as if she knew that wasn’t a possibility. “Of course.”
     
    ****
     
    Curious about fishing regulations and bow fishing practices in particular, I stopped at the Game, Fish and Parks office to pick up a fishing guide. Usually government handbooks are dry reading, but this information fascinated me.  
    Who knew there were