Читать книгу Ray Tate and Djuna Brown Mysteries 3-Book Bundle - Lee Lamothe - Страница 30

Connie Cook was into his third plate of ribs, paper napkins tucked into his shirt collar, a crumpled field of them stained red across the table. He felt pretty good. The waitress was a pal. When he’d asked for a hot red sauce she’d said, How hot? He’d said, Honey, you don’t got a sauce hot enough that I can’t eat. She had a wicked smile and said, Oh, yeah? She came out of the kitchen with an unmarked bottle and held it over his platter. Say when. She began soaking down the meat.

The ribs were fiery and he sweated immediately. His nose ran, his scalp tingled. He enjoyed himself immensely, sitting in a country place with his jacket off, bullshitting with a waitress, sucking meat from bones, stacking them into a log house on the side plate. Fat he was, sure, but he had the impression the hot red sauce was melting the blubber. His bland skin was taking on a healthy pink glow. When he looked up he saw the waitress pulling on a ski jacket over her apron and handing her tickets to another woman, he called her over.

“You off?”

She nodded. “Those are pretty good, huh?” She lifted an eyebrow. “And the sauce? I didn’t bring you the real hot stuff. I took pity.”

He laughed and reached into his pocket. “I feel like I just blew a fireman.”

“Been there, done that.” She laughed, a pretty middle-aged woman his wife’s age who, he thought, might have missed the boat at some point and had accepted the fact. There was poorly covered grey in her hair and she had clear, direct eyes. He put a twenty on the table.

“That’s okay, mister, we split here, it all goes in the pot.” She zipped her jacket. “Good to see a man that knows how to enjoy a meal.”

“Look,” Connie Cook said, “there’s gonna be a good tip on the bill. The twenty … Well, I needed this, okay. I’m in the middle of a hard couple of days and this … Well, I want you to have it. Humour me.”

“Sure. Thanks. Come again, huh?” She took the twenty and on the way out he saw her stuff it into a big glass jar full of bills and change. As she passed through the door Phil Harvey came in in his bat coat, a canvas sack over his shoulder.