Read Elaine Orr - Jolie Gentil 03 - When the Carny Comes to Town for Free Online Page B

guests if they called.  The dogs were glad to be let in from Aunt Madge’s small yard, and Mr. Rogers barked once at Jazz when he could tell she was planning to jump on his back. 
    “Hey,” I said to him, and he managed to look chagrined, for a dog.  Even the dogs know something’s wrong.
    My cup of coffee cooled as I called Harry.  “Thought I’d check in real fast,” I said, not bothering to identify myself.  I hoped he’d volunteer to finish writing up the appraisal I’d done yesterday morning, but I also wanted to let him know I was okay.  Harry’s really good to me.
    “Jolie, good,” Harry said.  “Madge just called to let me know Scoobie was still doing well.  I’m glad to hear your voice.”
    Doing well?   Of course, even though he’s ten years younger than Aunt Madge he’s still in the age group where friends kick the bucket every few weeks, so if that’s your perspective I guess Scoobie was doing well. 
    “The nurses said he had a good night, whatever that means to them.”  I thought for a second.  “One of them said they might reduce his sedation today or tomorrow.”
    “Good, good.  I don’t want you to think about work until Scoobie’s doing a bit better.”
    As if.   “Thanks.  Listen, I have a favor to ask.”  The idea hadn’t really formulated until I heard Harry’s voice.  “Are you going over to the carnival later today?”
    There was a two second pause before Harry said, “Jolie…”
    Harry’s worse than Aunt Madge about thinking I’m a busybody.  They can’t seem to figure the difference between curiosity and caring.  “Honest, it’s an easy thing.  I know you have a digital camera for the appraisals.” 
    “And…” he said, letting the word hang there.
    “There’s this guy Scoobie gave the evil eye to.  I want you to take his picture.”
    “Surely you told the police about him.  You need to leave this one totally to them, Jolie.”
    I kept the irritation from my tone.  I wanted to stay with Scoobie, not go to the carnival, and Harry was my friend, not just a boss.  “I did, but I want a picture for me, and I know Morehouse won’t share.  I can describe the guy, and tell you maybe where he’ll be working.” 
    “No!”  Harry stopped for a couple seconds, and then continued.  “Do you know how distraught Madge would be if you got hurt?  Hurt again,” he said.
    “Okay, I hear you.”  In the minute before we got off the phone I mentally rearranged my day.  I would go back to the hospital and hope I could talk Ramona into going to the carnival to take pictures.  She could use my car.  I rummaged in Aunt Madge’s junk drawer to see if there were any extra batteries I could use if the ones in my camera died.
     
    AUNT MADGE WOULD WANT to go to First Prez at ten-thirty, so I didn’t take more time at home than I absolutely needed to get presentable.  I knew she would stay with Scoobie instead of going to church, but I figured she could use the comfort of Reverend Jamison and her friends.  And maybe she could do some rumor control.
    I put my camera and extra batteries at the bottom of a small canvas shoulder bag in which I also stowed a couple books and a clean pair of underwear.  For good measure I threw in an apple and a couple muffins left over from breakfast, rationalizing that Aunt Madge wouldn’t want them to go to waste.  She makes them fresh every day.
    The dogs went out again with no complaint, but Jazz was a different matter.  She’s really fast.  After ten minutes of running up and down the back stairway and around Aunt Madge’s sofa, I gave up and made sure the door to my room and its closet — where Jazz’s litter box was stowed since I was sharing the bathroom for the weekend — were open. 
    She sat on the bottom step looking at me, poised to run again.  “If Aunt Madge comes home and finds you on the sofa, you’re toast.”  She yawned and settled herself against the step above the one she was