Elaine Viets & Victoria Laurie, Nancy Martin, Denise Swanson - Drop-Dead Blonde (v5.0) (pdf) by Unknown (howl and other poems .TXT) 📕

``Suit yourself, but I'm not pressing charges,'' Ruby said. ``In fact, I'll tell them I did it all myself.'' She looked down at Skye, which was easy to do, since she had five inches on her even without the high-heeled shoes. ``As long as I don't file an insurance claim, no crime has been committed. There's not a thing the cops can do.'' Ruby turned her back on Skye and said to the people standing around them, ``Anyone know a good garage that can repair this damage?''

Skye ground her teeth in frustration. What was this woman up to? Ignoring the crowd, which was now shouting out places where Ruby could take her car to be fixed, Skye DEAD BLONDES TELL NO TALES 197 crossed the parking lot, marched into the bowling alley, around the bar, and didn't stop until she was sitting behind the desk in the office. She was going to call Simon. Maybe he'd have an idea.

``What? You're kidding.'' Simon had picked up on the first ring, and Skye had immediately launched into an ac- count of Ruby's latest escapade. ``I'll be right over.''

``What's the use? If Ruby doesn't press charges or make an insurance claim, there's nothing the police can do.'' Skye twirled the phone cord around her finger. ``The big ques- tion is, Why doesn't she want to involve the police? Did Wally tell you anything when you talked to him yesterday afternoon?''

``No. He avoided answering most of my questions. All he would say was that Ruby had explained her actions to his satisfaction, paid the tickets for reckless driving and obscene display, which is a misdemeanor, and allowed Wally to confiscate the items to be destroyed.''

``Did he at least tell you her full real name?'' Skye asked. Why was Wally protecting Ruby?

``Jones. The name on her driver's license is Ruby Jones.'' Simon made a scornful noise.

``I wonder which husband that name's from.'' Skye tapped her fingers on the desk. ``Guess it's time to call your friend in Vegas and see if he can tell you anything.''

``I'll do that. Even with a common name like Jones, there can't be that many six-foot-tall, full-figured Rubys who owned sex stores.''

``You wouldn't think so, but I've heard some strange things about Las Vegas.'' Chapter 6

Out of the Mouths of

Blondes Skye scanned the group of people that had assembled in the bowling alley bar for Team Trivia and wondered if the winner of last night's talent contest had come back. Not that she would recognize him if he were there. The guy had worn a gorilla mask during his comedy routine and signed in as Lenny Bruce.

Since Skye was pretty sure the famous comedian had not risen from his grave in order to perform in Scumble River, she thought it a safe bet that Mr. Anonymous had used a false name. The question was, Why?

Before she could come up with a guess, her attention was diverted to a group of teens attempting to oust people from their seats by tipping their chairs forward. Once some- one fell from the chair, the teens claimed the seat. Skye caught the ringleader's eye and pointed to the entrance. The girl pasted an innocent expression on her face and shrugged helplessly. Skye pointed again. The sign hanging on the door was clear. It read: STANDING ROOM ONLY! The teens scowled, relinquished the stolen seats, and marched out of the bar.

Skye let out the breath she'd been holding. She hated to see the kids go--she knew there was little for them to do in town--but the place was too crowded to deal with any group that would cause problems.

Bunny had brought in extra chairs, but still people stood, leaned, knelt, and sat on the floor. Skye was surprised that such a large crowd had turned out on a weeknight just for a game of trivia.

198 DEAD BLONDES TELL NO TALES 199

So many wanted to play that Bunny had had to decree that they would use a lottery system to select the contes- tants. Skye had collected the strips of paper, and now held a recycled pickled-egg jar crammed full of the tickets.

Bunny mounted the stage, dragging a reluctant Ruby after her. She took the mike from Skye and announced, ``Our special guest from Las Vegas, Nevada, Miss Ruby, will draw twenty names. There will be four teams of five. Team One will play Team Two, and Team Three will play Team Four; then the winners of the first two rounds will play the third round for the grand prizes.

``Everyone ready?''

The audience roared its approval, and Ruby started pick- ing slips from the jar. Skye only half listened as the names were called out. She recognized most, although one or two weren't familiar. Suddenly she froze as Ruby announced, ``Earl Doozier is our lucky thirteenth contestant.''

A man wearing sweatpants and a flannel shirt pushed his way through the crowd. He was skinny except for the bowl- ing ball�sized potbelly that hung over the elastic waist of his pants. His mud-brown hair formed a horseshoe around the back of his head.

Skye struggled to keep her expression neutral as he climbed the steps up to the stage, but she just couldn't wrap her mind around the idea of Earl Doozier on a trivia team. She was afraid to imagine his answers.

Earl was the patriarch of the Red Raggers, a clan who always seemed to turn up whenever there was trouble. They didn't necessarily initiate the problem, but they also never missed an opportunity to contribute to the chaos.

The Dooziers were tough to describe to anyone who hadn't grown up with the legend of the Red Raggers. The best Skye could come up with was a tribe of outsiders who didn't want to be insiders. She had established a good rela- tionship with Earl through working with his many children, sisters,