Bones of a Feather - Carolyn Haines [35]
“You aren’t going?”
She pushed up from the sofa. “Naw. I tried that once and it didn’t work out so well for me. Marty can go and try his hand. He’s a real ambitious man, and he knows how to talk with the star-makers. I’d just be a hindrance if he had to worry about me. What matters is that he takes my songs. He says I have a couple that some of the big stars might want to cover. Besides, I got responsibilities at Briarcliff.”
If looks weren’t deceiving, Kissie was an honest young woman with integrity. She also had somewhere to be. She’d checked her watch at least twice.
“Can you think of anyone who might want to harm the Levert sisters?”
“They piss off everyone, but it’s all social stuff. Nothing big.” She picked up her guitar. “Listen, I have to practice. Marty said there might be a record producer in the audience tonight.”
I stood. “Thanks, Kissie. I have a friend coming into town tonight. Maybe we’ll catch your act.”
She brightened. “Great. I go on at nine. Just for a couple of sets.”
“Country?”
“Kind of folksy blues and country all mixed together,” she said.
“My friend is a journalist. If she likes what she hears, maybe she’ll do a story.”
I thought her face would split with a wide smile. “Thank you so much, Ms. Delaney. Good press is hard to come by, and every little bit helps. I’ll call Monica and Eleanor and see if they want to come, too.”
I didn’t dissuade her. Eleanor would handle the invitation, and tonight, when Cece was there to ask interview questions, I hoped to learn more about Marty and possibly catch a glimpse of him. Kissie wasn’t aware of Monica’s disappearance, but that didn’t mean that someone she knew, like the star-hungry Marty Diamond, wasn’t involved.
8
The pleasures of shopping have always been lost on me, but I cowboyed up and went to a lovely little shop only a few blocks from the hotel to buy a blouse for my night out with Cece.
Juking requires a physical look as well as a pair of rotating hips. Months had passed since my friends and I ventured to Sunflower County’s hot blues club, Playin’ the Bones, but I hadn’t forgotten how to dress for good times.
Cece and I were due for a bit of mischief, and while I was engaged to Graf and had the rock to prove it, Cece was footloose and fancy free. It would be fun to find her a man to date. Let me add that when Cece’s fancy gets to shaking, anything can happen.
When she arrived a little after six, I was dressed in a black, curve-hugging top with several interesting cutouts on the chest and back. I’d never really understood buying clothes with holes in them, but the blouse was half-price and it hugged all the right places.
“Graf would have you arrested in that, dahling,” Cece said as she air-kissed both my cheeks.
“You’re just jealous.” She looked stunning herself in cowboy boots with red and turquoise insets, black jeans, and a red silk shirt that caught each movement in a soft shimmer of fabric.
Cece had once been Cecil Falcon, heir to the vast Falcon estate of land and a lineage dating back to the 1700s and the Mayflower. She’d thrown it all over to follow her biological destiny and surgically altered herself to conform to the female trapped inside. Her decision had cost her plenty—her inheritance, her family, and a cushy life. There’s something to be said, though, for being your own person. Cece was that—and one of the best friends in the universe.
“I am jealous,” I countered. “Your hips.” I put a hand on either side of her waist. “No matter how thin I get, my hips will never look like yours in a pair of jeans.”
“But you have other assets, dahling.” Cece gave me a knowing look. “Graf has agreed to write a tell-all book describing those attributes in great detail as soon as he’s famous.”
I ignored the threat, because I knew Graf wasn’t the kiss-and-tell kind of guy. When she was done teasing me, I told her about Kissie McClain. Cece agreed King’s Tavern, though it was in the heart of downtown Natchez and not Under-the-Hill, was a good destination for dinner