The Sweet Potato Queens' First Big-Ass Novel by Jill Conner Browne Page A

obediently tucked the sweater under her shirt and headed toward the front porch. We followed.
    She mashed the doorbell several times, and after a few moments a light illuminated the entryway.
    â€œWho is it?” said a gruff voice from behind the door.
    â€œPlease help me,” Patsy shouted helplessly. “My baby’s coming right now! I can feel the head! I can feel the head!”
    â€œWhat?” Dr. Day said, swinging open the door and surveying Patsy. He was wearing a plush burgundy bathrobe and matching slippers. “You’re not one of my patients.”
    â€œThe baby’s coming, Dr. Day. Ooooh! The pain.” Patsy was so into her role she dramatically clutched at her stomach, causing the sweater to fall onto the porch. “Oh my God! It’s here,” she said, reaching down to pick it up. “Congratulations to me. It’s a cardigan!”
    Dr. Day narrowed his eyes. “What the hell is going on!?”
    At that, the rest of us scrambled out of the hedges.
    â€œWe need to talk with you, Deke, ” Mary Bennett said with an edge, arms planted on her almost nonexistent hips.
    â€œWhat do you want?” Dr. Day said, fear flitting across his face as he eyed us. His glance rested on Gerald. “I’m calling the police.”
    â€œNot so fast, Buckwheat.” Mary Bennett took a step forward. “We’ll be on our way just as soon as you tell us where Tammy is.”
    â€œTammy who?” Dr. Day said. He took a quick peek over his shoulder. “How dare you come here this late at night—?”
    â€œTammy Myers,” I said, edging closer to the door. “Your nurse’s aide. The one you fucked tonight. I don’t know what you said or did, but it must have been horrible, because she just called saying she’d taken a lot of pills. She was so disoriented she couldn’t tell me where she was.”
    A brief look of alarm flashed in Dr. Day’s eyes, but it was replaced with hard-jawed denial. “This is ridiculous! Of course I know Tammy Myers, but our relationship is strictly professional, and—”
    â€œHoney? Is everything all right?” A female voice floated down from a long, curving staircase behind Dr. Day.
    â€œEverything’s fine, Linda,” he shouted up. “It’s just someone who’s lost. I’m giving them directions.” He lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. “If you don’t leave this very second, I’m going to—”
    â€œYou’re not going to do a goddamn thing except tell us where Tammy is right this second,” I said through gritted teeth. I held up a photograph of him and Tammy kissing. “I’m sure Linda would be very interested to see this photo of you acting professional with one of your employees. If you don’t tell me where the hell Tammy is NOW, I swear to God, I’ll run this straight up those stairs to your wife and then I will personally see that it’s published in the society page of the Northside Sun .”
    Dr. Day’s complexion, which had previously been a motley purplish-red, was now the hue of curdled milk.
    â€œShe’s in room 107 at the Sleepy Time Motel on Fifth Street,” he said. “Are you satisfied?”
    â€œNot entirely,” Gerald snapped. “Call an ambulance to meet us at the motel. If you don’t, I’m sure your wife will just love looking at that picture while she counts her alimony.”
    â€œThere’s plenty more,” I said. “Do you understand?”
    â€œSuck my dick, you bitch,” Dr. Day said through gritted teeth.
    â€œDICK? Hunny, PLEEZE, you ain’t got a dick—all you got’s a little dust flap to keep the dirt outta your pussy! Now you back up from us and call that ambulance before I start screeching LINDA!” Gerald hissed with uncharacteristic venom.
    â€œI’ll phone right away,” Dr. Day said, in a defeated voice.
    Moments