rock concert was easier than keeping Dirk in line.
I sympathized. Iâd gone to school with the Dirkenator. Heâd been clueless then, and maturity hadnât been any kinder to his brain cells.
Under it all, Bo continued to growl.
âYou know who else would be good?â Dirk continued happily on. âThe Widow Schrimpf. The one you said looked like Lady Godiva? I donât know what chocolate has to do with it, but the Widow Schrimpf sure looks good in a bikini. I think a lot of guys would like looking at her. Even though sheâs gay. But the guys wouldnât know. And itâs just looking. Not like fondling or anything.â
âJust looking,â Elena repeated soothingly to Bo.
âNot like fondling,â I added helpfully.
The growling deepened.
Dirk ignored it. âBut you, Detective Maâam. In a bikini with gunsâ¦yum, yum.â
Elena shot an alarmed look at her husband. Bo was normally the most placid of men. But at the yum yum he bared his teeth. And his eyes had gone that peculiar shade of bright violet that meant he was extremely pissed.
âDirk!â I rushed between Bo and the clueless wonder. âIâve been thinking. Elena is right. Your Captain Tight-assâ¦um, Titus, wouldnât want the department to call attention to itself in such a, well, commercial way.â
Dirk, mouth still moving, blinked. âOh. Maybe.â
âNo maybe about it.â I saw Bo start to relax out of the corner of my eye. âSo instead of you, I think Bo should run the beauty contest.â
Bo snapped upright. âWhat?!â
âNo way.â Elena gave me such a look.
Dirk clapped his hands. âMr. Strongwell, youâd be perfect. You know all the pretty ladies in town. Elena, Diana Prince, Drusillaââ
Now Elena started growling.
The fact that the Dirkenator endorsed the idea should have warned me. But considering the alternative, I really had no choice. âItâs easy, Bo. Contestant applications are already at local stores. Twyla Tafel is keeping track. All you have to do is pick judges. Almost a figurehead, really.â I heard my voice drop into pleading.
âYouâve got to be kidding.â Bo gave me a long, dark look. I thought his eyes were going to drill out the back of my head.
I whimpered. âBut Elena can help you.â
âAnd itâs for a good cause,â Dirk chimed in.
Boâs frown slewed to his wife and turned thoughtful. âMaybeâ¦maybe it wouldnât be so bad.â
âNot so bad?â Elena shrieked. âNot so bad ?â She stared at Bo like his brains had dribbled out his ears. â Not so bad ?â She couldnât seem to think of anything else to say.
âWell, thatâs settled then.â I used my brightest third-grade-teacher voice. âBo will run the beauty pageant. And Elena will help.â
Elena turned her stare on me. She didnât say a thing, but was obviously thinking words too blistering to speak. Either way, now was the time to get out. While I still could.
Dirkâs muddy rasp stopped me. âBut what can I chair, Nixie?â
Bo blinked at Ruffles, then sliced me a grouchy look. âYes, oh great Fearless Leader. What do you have for Detective Ruffles to do?â Just a touch maliciously he added, âMaybe he should help you with planning.â
âNo!â I shouted. Dirk looked hurt. âI meanâ¦Detective Ruffles can be far more helpful runningâ¦the Sheepshead Tournament.â Which practically ran itself. Hopefully.
âI donât know,â Dirk said. âGambling. Captain Titus wouldnât like that either. Even though heâs a pimp.â
âAnd Buddy at Niemanâs Bar is already in charge of the sheepshead competition,â Elena said, perversely helpful.
âYeah, thanks . I forgot about that.â I thought furiously hard. What could the Dirkenator do? The opening VIP
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