Read Day Shift (Midnight, Texas #2) for Free Online

was
awful
. Maybe even worse than Rachel dying like that.”
    “The police didn’t believe him, surely?” Fiji began to cut a cherry pie into generous triangles.
They can use the calories more than me,
she thought, and squirted whipped cream from a can into fluffy spirals on the pie. It looked pretty.
    “I think it was obvious he’s nuts,” Manfred said. Though his words were confident, to Fiji he sounded uneasy. “And I had already told the police that Rachel had just said that she’d hidden her jewelry from Lewis.”
    “Did she tell you where?” Bobo asked.
    “No,” Manfred said. “I didn’t even think of asking her. None of my business.”
    Bobo looked delighted to see the cherry pie. Fiji smiled at him, curbing her stupid urge to pat him on the head. Over dessert, the conversation veered away from Rachel Goldthorpe’s death and the trouble it had caused Manfred to broader concerns. They talked about Midnight things: the latest curiosity a customer had brought into the pawnshop, the continuing search for a permanent manager for Gas N Go, and the way an overabundance of zucchini in Madonna’s garden was affecting the cuisine of Home Cookin. Manfred seemed to feel better since he’d vented, Bobo seemed thoughtful, and Fiji herself was content in her kitchen (still sunny at seven thirty) with her company. It had been hot work cooking, but the window air conditioner kept the room at a tolerable temperature.
    Fiji watched as Bobo ate all of his pie, and Manfred ate about half of his. She urged them both to take another piece home, and both the men said they would, Bobo with more enthusiasm than Manfred. She was grateful. Leaving her alone with the remains of the pie would not have been a friendly act.
    Bobo offered to do the dishes, but Fiji said, “Nope, tonight’s my treat. Next time, you can help.”
    He protested a little, but she stood firm. Bobo and Manfred thanked her profusely for the food, and then the two men left, walking across Witch Light Road side by side. Bobo was returning to his apartment above Midnight Pawn, Manfred to the house situated to the right of the pawnshop. The sun was a red streak to the west, and the sky was gathering violet shadows.
    “Maybe it will rain tomorrow!” she said to Mr. Snuggly, who’d come onto the front porch with her. He licked a paw, but he suddenly raised his head and glided off into the bushes. She went back inside to clean up. While Fiji washed the dishes, she thought about Manfred’s story.
    And just as Manfred had, Fiji wondered about what part Olivia had played in it.
    Of course, there was a lot Manfred had left out. Any fool could see that. He’d been conspicuously silent about what Olivia had actually been doing at Vespers. As Fiji scrubbed, she speculated. When you added up Olivia’s mysterious absences and her closemouthed policy about her job, combined with her obviously abundant cash, it was logical to wonder if Olivia was a prostitute. Though no one in Midnight had ever said that out loud, it was easy to see they’d all considered that a possibility. But there were good reasons to doubt that hypothesis.
    For one thing, Fiji knew Olivia . . . at least a little. Olivia was more than capable of taking care of herself with extreme force. Though Fiji admitted to herself that she, Fiji, was not that knowledgeable or experienced in sexual matters, Olivia didn’t seem like the kind of woman who’d gladly cater to anyone else’s demands. Even if her gig was as some kind of bondage dominatrix, Fiji couldn’t picture Olivia putting on spike heels and spanking someone unless she chose to do so.
    Plus, more logically, why would a prostitute live in Midnight? Why not live closer to her clientele? Also, how many prostitutes could afford to fly all over the country for “dates”? Not too many, Fiji guessed, though she would be the first to admit she was almost totally ignorant about the actual business of renting one’s body.
    And then, there was