Richfield & Rivers Mystery Series 2 - Stellium in Scorpio by Andrews, Austin Page A

we'll contact you at your hotel if we need anything else."
    One,
two, three, wrap! I thought.

Chapter
Seven
    “That
guy who tried to hit me was pretty damned determined. Well, he failed and may
his dick be torn off by wild dogs," I said, limping slightly.
    "Teague,
I know you're angry but please don't say those kinds of things into the cosmos.
It's like a curse and—"
    "I
like curses, particularly those that torture the perpetrator for
centuries." I smiled.
    "That's
not funny." I could have sworn Callie glanced up at the heavens.
"Here, give me those. I'm driving." Callie took the car keys from me
and helped me into the car. "I need to get you back to the room."
Callie's voice was filled with concern over my near demise.
    "No,
I'm okay. I'm fine. Just a little shook up, that's all."
    ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗
    We
pulled into the valet park at our hotel, and Callie told the man opening my car
door to help me out.
    "I'm
fine," I reiterated, embarrassed at the attention. "Come on. Let's go
over to the theater and tell your friend Rose what happened and see if the description
of the driver clicks for her."
    Moments
later Callie, still protesting my not going directly to our room, followed me
to the theater where a skeleton cast was doing a somewhat sloppy run-through of
a new Boy Review routine. The theater company's production assistant
tried to head us off, leaping from his seat and dashing down the aisle as if to
greet us, rather than throw us out. Rose spotted us and hurried down off the
stage, letting the boy know that it was okay, she knew us. I remarked that it
appeared she never slept and spent her entire life in rehearsal. She smiled and
said they actually got two days off a week but those days varied.
    "We're
here because someone tried to kill league by ramming her with his car."
Callie was direct and her voice held no emotion.
    Rose
gasped. "Are you sure? Maybe it was an accident. People around here drive
like—"
    "When
he missed, he screeched to a halt, backed up, and tried to hit her again. It
was no accident," Callie said.
    I
watched Rose's face for a reaction. She looked a bit like a deer in the
proverbial headlights.
    "He
was mid-thirties, bald, and beefy. Do you know anyone like that? Do you have
any reason to suspect someone?" Callie asked.
    "No,"
Rose said breathlessly as a drag queen even more gorgeous than Joanie Burr
strode toward us. She was a proud jungle cat cruising rapidly and effortlessly
down the aisle, muscles taut, head high, her large, angular frame gliding to a
stop in front of us. She graced us with a sensual smile. European good
looks, I thought.
    "Someone
tried to run over my friend with a car...a man," Rose said.
    "That's
horrible!" she said. "I'm Marlena Mercado."
    We
introduced ourselves. Marlena said a quick hello and added, "Rose, you're
up next. Better get back onstage."
    Rose
looked flustered and torn. She glanced up to see the director, a tall, thin,
gay man, signaling her that she was about to miss her cue, and she hurried back
up the aisle.
    "Sorry,
I have to go," Rose's voice trailed behind.
    Marlena
cocked her head slightly in a studied theatrical way that made sure her best
features were always on display. "Are you in town on vacation?"
    "That,
and I'm very interested in what's frightening some of the performers,"
Callie said pointedly, hoping for an entree, but Marlena was too schooled for
that.
    "I
would say they're frightened that their looks, or their legs, or their bank
accounts will give out before they find Mr. Right. Isn't that what all girls
are afraid of?" Marlena shot us a dazzling smile. "Gotta run. Maybe
we'll all get together before you leave town—if you're going to see Rose
again."
    "We'd
like that," Callie replied, and we watched Marlena bound up onto the
stage.
    "Damn,
I wish I could look that good." I sighed.
    "Darling,
you look much better," Callie said sincerely as we headed up the aisle for
the heavy double doors that separated the theater from the hotel