That Dog Won't Hunt (Dearing Family Series) by Brandilyn Collins

effected a shudder.
    “That’s why I put in the holders. Sometimes people want to drink somethin’.”
    “Well, duh.”
    “You asked.”
    Wasn’t he a smart aleck this morning? As if he could afford to be, driving a monstrous vehicle like this. When they reached the bigger towns, she’d have to duck down in the seat. “Can we go through Mocha Ritaville?”
    “Yeah. Unless you want to wait till we get near the seafood store.”
    No way, she wasn’t stopping at a coffee place outside Justus in this car. “Nope. Besides, I wanna see you make Rita’s day.”
    “Oh, boy.”
    Rita Betts was like no one else. But then, that could describe half the people in Justus. Pushing sixty, Rita acted like some hippie teenager caught in a time warp. She was the only white woman Jess knew with dreadlocks. Lots of them, down past her shoulders. Rita’s eyes were hazel green, and she caked on purple eye shadow. Her arms jangled under heavy bracelets. Years of sporting dangly earrings had pulled down the holes in her ears.
    In the downtown block Tamel turned right onto Grant Street and pulled up to the free-standing express coffee hut. The car was twice as long as the little building. He rolled down the window as Rita peered out from her perch inside. Jess could hear Mocha Ritaville’s ever present Jimmy Buffet music playing.
    “Well, if it ain’t the handsome Tamel Curd.” Rita’s deep, throaty voice betrayed her years of smoking. “Who you got with ya there?” Rita bent down until she met eyes with Jess. “Oh, my, Jessica Dearing.” Rita looked at them askance, as if she knew exactly what was up with the two of them. Give it an hour, and she’d have the news they were together all over town. Probably have them getting married next week.
    “How’s the lawyer business, Jess?”
    Tamel’s smile fell a little, then jumped back onto his face.
    “It’s fine. Good to see you, Rita.”
    Today Rita’s earrings were big shiny red bead-like affairs. Interesting match to her orange tee shirt.
    “Tamel, you handsome devil, when’re you gonna marry me?”
    Rita’s line for years now.
    He grinned. “I’m workin’ on it, Rita. I just don’t know how I’d keep you in the luxury to which you’ve grown accustomed.” He waved his hand at the coffee express.
    “Honey, livin’ in a shack with you would be luxury.” She flashed a wide, flirtatious smile, showing yellowed teeth.
    Yikes and boy howdy, as Granddad Pete used to say.
    “You must have a free day today, Mr. Curd.” Rita winked at Tamel. “I ain’t heard a nobody dyin’ lately.”
    Tamel flicked his hand. “Nope, nobody died, I’m afraid.”
    Rita threw back her hand and hooted. “What a life! Waitin’ fer people to kick the bucket!”
    Tamel kept on smiling, but Jess could tell the comment pricked.
    Rita pounded her wooden window sill to calm herself down. “Y’all hear ’bout Leslie Willis?”
    They both shook their heads.
    “Well, you know she turned sixty last Sunday. Still claims she’s thirty-nine. Not that anybody believes that bag a wrinkles, bless her heart. Anyway, she done found herself a man in Florence a good twenty years younger ‘n’ her. Got him up livin’ in her house, fetchin’ her mail and food at the grocery.”
    “Oh.” Tamel raised his chin. He wasn’t much for Justus gossip.
    “That ain’t the kicker.” Rita flicked an earring around in a dramatic pause. “Young Romeo’s her son’s best friend.”
    “Which son—Tony?”
    Tony Willis ran the one gas station in town.
    “The one and only. So now he’s all bent outta shape, not talkin’ to his mama ’cause he says she’s shamed him. They had a fight last night, and he got so mad he stomped down her porch stairs and fell and broke a leg. So now he cain’t work at the station, and that’s why it’s closed.”
    “The Justus station’s closed ?” Tamel stuck his chin forward.
    “Yup, fer now. Hope you ain’t needin’ any gas.”
    Tamel and Jess exchanged a