Read Nightmares Can Be Murder (A Dream Club Mystery) for Free Online Page B

hair tumbled almost to her waist in soft waves, and she had a knockout figure with curves in all the right places. She was wearing a white ruffly peasant blouse with a full cotton skirt and black strappy dance shoes. “What are you doing over there? Class is starting, everyone is in the studio!” She waved her arm in the air, frowning, pointing to her watch.
    “
Un momento
,
por favor!
” he called to her, holding up an index finger. He turned back to us, his lips tightening into a thin line. “My assistant is driving me crazy,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “She lives by the clock; no wonder her husband divorced her. She should be working in a factory, not a dance studio. She does not have the soul of an artist, like you, my beautiful Ali.” He gave a short bark of laughter. “But I’m afraid for once she is right. I must take my leave of you ladies. What is it you say in English? Duty screams, or is it duty shouts?”
    “Duty calls,” I said flatly, willing him to be on his way.
    “Ah yes, that is it, duty calls.” He stood up slowly, and I quickly grabbed my napkin in case he was going for the fingertip-kissing routine again. “I wish I could join you for dinner, my lovelies, but I’m having a special meal prepared for me later tonight. Veal scallopini, you know it?”
    Ali gave a delicate shudder. “I’m a vegetarian, Chico. No meat, no fowl, no fish.”
    Chico slapped his head. “Ah,
querida
, how could I forget? You don’t eat the animals, you eat the tofu and bean sprouts, of course I knew that. I was distracted by looking at you and your
hermana
, so much loveliness at one table.”
    “Really?” Ali said, barely holding back a snort.
    “
Sí!
” Chico replied, bobbing his head up and down. “My mind cannot take in such a sight! It’s too much
belleza
, how you say, beauty, for one man to grasp.” He slapped his forehead in a spot-on Ricky Ricardo imitation.
    “Chico!” the redhead trilled. “We’re waiting for you!”
    “Coming!” he shouted. He pushed back his chair and jumped to his feet, a scowl marring his handsome face. “Ladies,” he said, giving a little bow before darting back across the street.
    “Wow. So that’s Chico,” I said the moment he was out of earshot.
    “In the flesh,” Ali said wryly. “I think I made a narrow escape when I dumped that guy.”
    I raised my wineglass and clinked it against hers. “I’ll drink to that, sis!”

6
    I didn’t think to ask Ali about Sybil Powers until late Sunday morning, as we lingered over a breakfast of pecan waffles and veggie sausage patties. Ali was a talented cook, and I was still mulling over the notion of adding freshly prepared items to her inventory downstairs.
    I was toying with the idea of serving homemade pastel mints along with gourmet coffee and breakfast sandwiches. Maybe we could even add a few interesting soups and salads to draw in the lunch crowd. I wanted to find recipes that were regional and representative of the Deep South, delectable dishes you wouldn’t see anyplace else.
    “You didn’t happen to mention anything to Sybil about my nightmares, did you, Ali?” I kept my voice deliberately casual. Ali is often impulsive, and I didn’t want to lay a guilt trip on her in case she had blurted something out without thinking.
    Ali looked up from the Sunday paper, blinking in surprise. “Tell her about your nightmares? Oh, gosh no,” she said, looking shocked. “You know I’d never discuss your personal life with anyone, Taylor. And especially not with Sybil. Everyone in Savannah knows you can’t trust that woman not to blab. She has no sense of boundaries, none at all.”
    “Is that so?” Scout was winding around my bare feet, looking up hopefully for a morsel of veggie sausage. I wasn’t even sure if cats could digest soy protein, but the smell clearly had him hooked and he looked as if he were dying to sample it. I broke off a tiny corner of a sausage patty and slipped it to