Part 13 (2/2)
Dixie shot his retreating back another cold look before focusing her evil eye (yes, ”eye”-as in Cyclops) on me.
”Just what is the deal with Manny?” she asked. ”He's here. He's there. He comes. He goes. What is his story anyway?”
I blinked. Doth me detecteth an unlikely ally?
”You know. I've wondered the same thing, Dixie,” I said. ”The guy is all closed up. Tight-lipped. Beyond private.”
”It's weird. Just plain weird.” Dixie scratched her chin.
”It's what you call an enigma wrapped up in a riddle and tied with a chain and a padlock,” I said.
”It's irritating as a.s.s,” Dixie stated.
”There is that,” I agreed.
”You're supposed to be a reporter. Investigate.”
”I've tried. I've dug 'til it hurts. His history reads like a blank page.”
”How long have you known Manny anyway?” Dixie asked, and I gave an edited version of how I'd first met Manny at the Thunder Rolls bowling alley when investigating how a stiff found its way into my car's trunk. Actually, it wasn't my car. I just drove off in it by accident. But, yeah. Totally another story.
”It was after I bailed him out that we became...friendly,” I said.
”You bailed the guy out.”
”He paid me back.”
”And there was that engagement...”
”Faux engagement. What would you have done? I thought his Aunt Mo was on her deathbed. I wanted to make the old girl's last hours on this earth happy ones. How was I to know she'd recover and live to become a wedding planner stowaway stalker?”
Dixie did an eye-roll number.
”Frankie thinks Manny is G.o.d's gift to mankind,” I ventured.
”Tell me something I don't know.”
”Wouldn't it be kind of nice to, er, remove Frankie's rose-colored gla.s.ses where Manny is concerned?” I said. ”You know. Tarnish that crown Frankie has seen fit to bestow upon Manny just a wee little bit. Make your future spouse see that Manny, like all mortals, is human and, therefore, flawed.”
Dixie tilted her head in my direction. ”I'm listening.”
”Perhaps we could be of...a.s.sistance to each other,” I posed.
Curious Dixie disappeared. h.e.l.l No Dixie took her place.
”Have you forgotten what happened the last time I attempted to be of a.s.sistance to you?” she asked. ”I barely survived the experience.”
”Please. We weren't in any real danger. We were in a morgue. It's probably the safest place you can be.”
”I'm talking about the campus psycho with the big, sharp knife.” She shook her head. ”People who 'a.s.sist' you don't usually end up with fond memories.”
”I'm not sure that's the case-”
”Joe Townsend. Rick Townsend. Manny DeMarco. Shelby Lynn Sawyer. Frank. Frankie. Me. And that's just in the last twelve months.”
”Okay. Fine. Let Frankie continue to idolize a guy whose stock in chic trade is shrouded in mystery and intrigue,” I said. ”Never mind that exposing the truth behind the action figure could help keep your future husband's feet on the ground and on the straight and narrow, if you get my drift.”
Dixie appeared to consider my words. She finally shook her head. ”I can't believe I'm saying this, but what do you want me to do?”
”For now all you have to do is keep your eye and ears open.” Snort. ”Maybe chat up anyone affiliated with Keelie's reality show and find out how Manny got the gig in the first place. Anything you learn, pa.s.s on to me. Later we'll plan a covert ops or two and get some real dirt.”
”Covert ops? You've been playing Call of Duty again, haven't you?”
I winced. Busted.
”Come on. It'll be fun,” I a.s.sured her.
”What'll be fun?”
I turned. Taylor had joined us.
”The bike ride, of course,”
The smug, knowing look Dixie gave me told me she was on to my attempt to keep my sister out of this particular loop. The less Taylor knew, the better.
For me.
”Speaking of the bike ride, have you seen the hunky Trooper Dawkins yet?” I said. ”I guess he's probably busy protecting and serving.”
Taylor bit her lip. ”He'll probably seek you out before me.” She hesitated. ”You aren't going to say anything to him about...anything. Right?”
”Me? No! Never. Certainly not. I won't say a word. Not a word.”
”I'm feeling ill,” Taylor said.
”Hey. What am I missing here?” Dixie asked. ”I sense...sisterly conflict.”
”Taylor's in l.u.s.t with P.D. Dawkins,” I said.
”I thought you weren't going to say anything!” Taylor protested.
”Well, not to him,” I said. ”We have to play it cool. Keep it light. Keep it loose. Until we go in for the kill, that is.”
”Brother. I'm gonna be sick now,” Dixie said.
”Listen, Tressa. Please, just stay out of it. If something happens, it happens. Don't try to help me out. Okay?” Taylor pleaded.
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