Whiskey, You're The Devil: An Addison Holmes Mystery (Addison Holmes Mysteries Book 4) by Liliana Hart Page B

Nick’s words came back to me from that morning, and I wondered how I could be such a selfish friend. All I’d been worrying about all day was my P.I. exams, my sister’s bad judgment, cramps, and Savage’s irresistible pull. I’d forgotten all about Rosemarie.
    “Addison—” her voice was weak and tear-filled. “I’m a convict! They put me in handcuffs right in front of my neighbors and everyone.” Her voice hitched. “I’ll never be able to show my face in Whiskey Bayou again. You know how it is. I’ll lose my job. I’m like the second reincarnation of you. I’ll be an outcast.”
    “Hey, it’s not that bad. You’ll still be able to show your face in Whiskey Bayou. You’ll just have to get used to everyone whispering about you once you decide to show it.”
    “Who’s going to take care of my dogs while I’m in the hoosegow? They’ll become a ward of the state.”
    “I will take care of your dogs. Don’t worry about that. What we need to worry about is getting you out of jail as quickly as possible. Have they set bail?”
    “There’s supposed to be a hearing in the morning. I don’t think I’m cut out for this.” Hysteria was starting to tinge her voice and I couldn’t say I blamed her one bit. I’m not sure what I would’ve done in a similar situation. “The sheets on the bed hurt my skin. I’m delicate. I break out in hives if the wrong kind of fabric touches my skin. And there’s only one toilet. And it’s right there in front of everyone. What kind of respectable southern lady does her business right there for everyone to see?”
    “I can’t think of one,” I said automatically and then wished I’d kept my mouth shut. But really, people in the south didn’t even talk about going to the bathroom in polite company, much less consider letting anyone watch them doing it. Nick and I had been involved, off and on, for months, but our bathroom business was private.
    “What am I gonna do?” she wailed.
    “I want you to call Maxwell Gunter as soon as you hang up. He’ll be able to tell you exactly what needs to happen. Mom said he’s a great attorney.”
    “And he’s single too,” she said.
    “Also a very important piece of information to have as far as him keeping you out of prison.”
    “Would you mind calling him for me? I used my one phone call to call you. I knew you’d know just what to do.”
    “Thank you, Rosemarie. I’m touched.” And I was. I’d never been anyone’s first choice to be their one phone call from jail before. “What did Jacoby say when he arrested you? What were the charges?”
    “Second degree murder, and he said if I confessed they’d reduce the charges to manslaughter. He said they had me red handed and a jury would lock me up and throw away the key.”
    I was hating Detective Jacoby more and more with each passing day, and not only because he’d been the one to coin me the girlfriend of death. I’d never met the man and couldn’t have picked him out in a lineup, but he seemed like a real asshole. I was fine with making judgments like this with no basis in fact. I was a pretty good asshole detector.
    “What evidence do they have?” I knew they’d found her prints on the murder weapon from what Nick had told me, but Rosemarie might have had more information.
    “He said my prints were all over the fire extinguisher that bashed her face in.”
    “Why would your fingerprints be on the fire extinguisher?”
    “Because she dropped her cigarette ash into the trashcan and the whole thing burst into flames. Apparently a bottle of lube had broken open and she’d tossed it into the trash. It makes you wonder what’s in that lube to make it catch fire like that. You’d think it’d peel the skin right of your lady parts with that kind of fire starting power.”
    I pounded my head against the steering wheel for good measure at the image that thought provoked.
    “Okay,” I finally said. “That’s kind of bad luck. Were there anyone else’s