Bubbles Ablaze by Sarah Strohmeyer Page B

exclusive.”
    â€œExclusive?”
    â€œEsmeralda Greene snagged that, actually. She picked me up at the Texaco and worked her charm on McMullen, got him to say Price shouldn’t have been trespassing in his mine. Nice guy.”
    Drats, I thought, my hands balling into fists.
    He checked his watch. “She’s probably finishing up with him now. I better get back there.”
    Stiletto gave my bare shoulder a paternal pat. “You’ll find after working in this business as long as I have, Bubbles, that some of the best scoops come from just being in the right place at the right time. It’s not your fault that you didn’t get the McMullen interview first. There are other stories in your future.”
    It was all I could do to keep from tearing my hair out. In fact,I was so furious that I barely heard the pfft and Stiletto yell, “Jesus H!”
    He winced and slapped the back of his neck. “What the . . . ?”
    Before anyone could answer, he had collapsed onto the floor, face first.
    Roxy’s Homemade Detoxifying Bubble Bath
    Jojoba oil is a natural detoxifying agent that can be found in co-ops or health food stores. This bath is nice because it’s both bubbly and softens skin. Next time someone makes a crack about you lying about in the bath reading mysteries, note that this is vital to your health and if they want you to live longer they should let you be. So there.
    5 ounces of liquid body soap
1 tablespoon of jojoba oil
2 vitamin E capsules, split open
1 drop of vanilla
    Mix ingredients in a bowl and return to an old shampoo bottle. (Don’t forget to mark clearly.) Dump ½ cup under running warm—not hot—bathwater. Relax and enjoy.

Chapter 6
    â€œB ull’s-eye!” Genevieve proclaimed, bringing down her peashooter. “Should’ve gotten me one of these years ago. Handy little buggers.”
    Genevieve, my mother’s sidekick in their Lehigh pierogi shop and a certified conspiracy nut, stood in the doorway admiring a thin brown straw clutched in her massive mitt. Her Pittsburgh Steelers linebacker frame was supersized by a bright yellow- and purple-flowered dress and white knee-highs slipping down her tree trunk legs.
    â€œWhat did you do that for?” I demanded.
    â€œSaved your life, didn’t I?” Genevieve said. “Strange man at the door. You half naked. Shoot first, skip the questions. That’s my motto.”
    â€œThat’s not a strange man. It’s Stiletto.” I turned his head so Genevieve could see.
    Genevieve peered down at him, unconvinced. “Well, his Jeep wasn’t parked out front.” As though that provided justification.
    â€œThat’s because his Jeep blew up,” I said. “Look what you’ve done. And he fell on his nose, too. He was punched in that nose last night. It’s still swollen.”
    â€œNice going, toots. Serves the scum right.” Mama appeared, looking ridiculous as usual. Ever since she’d fallen for a hard-living race car driver who’d loved her and left her at the penitentiary gates, Mama had adopted a “bad girl” attitude—which took some imagination since Mama’s bad girlhood was a good fifty years behind her.
    Today her wider-than-it-is-tall frame sported faux leatherpants, Kmart mini boots and a scoop-neck tee that strained painfully over her sagging breasts. Spandex abuse. Head to toe she was in black, except for her lips, which were a smudged crimson. Gone was the grandmotherly coral of yesteryear.
    â€œHey,” Mama furrowed her wrinkled brow. “I’ve seen him someplace before.”
    â€œThat’s because it’s Stiletto,” I said, getting exasperated. “Genevieve shot Stiletto.”
    â€œDon’t get huffy, Bubbles,” Mama said. “She was just trying to protect you. Kids these days. No sense of gratitude.”
    â€œAmen,” said Genevieve.
    Stiletto groaned. I