Biting Nixie

Biting Nixie by Mary Hughes Page A

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Authors: Mary Hughes
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rock concert was easier than keeping Dirk in line.
    I sympathized. I’d gone to school with the Dirkenator. He’d been clueless then, and maturity hadn’t been any kinder to his brain cells.
    Under it all, Bo continued to growl.
    â€œYou know who else would be good?” Dirk continued happily on. “The Widow Schrimpf. The one you said looked like Lady Godiva? I don’t 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 she’s gay. But the guys wouldn’t know. And it’s just looking. Not like fondling or anything.”
    â€œJust looking,” Elena repeated soothingly to Bo.
    â€œNot like fondling,” I added helpfully.
    The growling deepened.
    Dirk ignored it. “But you, Detective Ma’am. In a bikini with guns…yum, yum.”
    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.
    â€œDirk!” I rushed between Bo and the clueless wonder. “I’ve been thinking. Elena is right. Your Captain Tight-ass…um, Titus, wouldn’t want the department to call attention to itself in such a, well, commercial way.”
    Dirk, mouth still moving, blinked. “Oh. Maybe.”
    â€œNo maybe about it.” I saw Bo start to relax out of the corner of my eye. “So instead of you, I think Bo should run the beauty contest.”
    Bo snapped upright. “What?!”
    â€œNo way.” Elena gave me such a look.
    Dirk clapped his hands. “Mr. Strongwell, you’d be perfect. You know all the pretty ladies in town. Elena, Diana Prince, Drusilla—”
    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. “It’s 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.” I heard my voice drop into pleading.
    â€œYou’ve got to be kidding.” Bo gave me a long, dark look. I thought his eyes were going to drill out the back of my head.
    I whimpered. “But Elena can help you.”
    â€œAnd it’s for a good cause,” Dirk chimed in.
    Bo’s frown slewed to his wife and turned thoughtful. “Maybe…maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.”
    â€œNot so bad?” Elena shrieked. “Not so bad ?” She stared at Bo like his brains had dribbled out his ears. “ Not so bad ?” She couldn’t seem to think of anything else to say.
    â€œWell, that’s settled then.” I used my brightest third-grade-teacher voice. “Bo will run the beauty pageant. And Elena will help.”
    Elena turned her stare on me. She didn’t 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.
    Dirk’s muddy rasp stopped me. “But what can I chair, Nixie?”
    Bo blinked at Ruffles, then sliced me a grouchy look. “Yes, oh great Fearless Leader. What do you have for Detective Ruffles to do?” Just a touch maliciously he added, “Maybe he should help you with planning.”
    â€œNo!” I shouted. Dirk looked hurt. “I mean…Detective Ruffles can be far more helpful running…the Sheepshead Tournament.” Which practically ran itself. Hopefully.
    â€œI don’t know,” Dirk said. “Gambling. Captain Titus wouldn’t like that either. Even though he’s a pimp.”
    â€œAnd Buddy at Nieman’s Bar is already in charge of the sheepshead competition,” Elena said, perversely helpful.
    â€œYeah, thanks . I forgot about that.” I thought furiously hard. What could the Dirkenator do? The opening VIP

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