Lady Be Good (Wynette, Texas #2)(69)

“I sure didn’t lift any salt shakers.”

Ted leaned back, enjoying their argument.

“That man told Beddington all I bought at the drugstore was a tabloid!”

“Nasty stuff. Full of lies. Do you know they printed a story about me once? How I was supposed to be having this big love affair with my former junior high teacher.”

“That was actually true,” Ted pointed out.

Kenny ignored him. “I can’t imagine why you’d want to read one of those things.”

“That’s not the point!” she exclaimed. “But of course you know that. You think it’s clever to act as if you’re an idiot.”

“So you decided to give him something else not to report?”

She wanted to scratch the smugness right off his face! How long was she going to let other people dictate the course of her life? Beddington? Kenny? That incompetent fool standing by the bar? It was long past time she took control of her own destiny.

“Let me out! I mean it, Kenny. I’m going to settle this with him for once and for all.”

“I don’t advise it.”

“Either let me out or I’m going to crawl under the table.”

“A perfect example of why you people lost this country in the first place.”

“Are you moving?”

“Damn right I am!” He vaulted to his feet.

Several of the other onlookers poked each other. Kenny was going to give them something new to talk about.

She shot past him and headed straight toward the burly man. “I need to speak with you.”

He blinked. “All right.”

“In the first place, you were hired to do a job. But you haven’t done it very well, now, have you?”

He looked embarrassed, but Emma couldn’t afford to weaken. “For one thing, you haven’t been giving Beddington complete information. And isn’t that why he pays you? For example, you didn’t bother to tell him everything I bought at the drugstore two nights ago, did you?”

He turned red from his neck all the way to his thinning, straw-colored hair.

She crossed her arms. “And please tell me why not.”

“Well—”

“Did you just now see me stealing those salt and pepper shakers?”

He nodded.

“I was stealing them, you understand. I’m a thief! Now, are you going to tell him about it or not?”

“I—”

He looked so flustered that a little of her anger abated, and she began to feel a bit sorry for him. “Let me give you some advice, if I may. Beddington is a demanding employer. If he finds out you’ve been withholding information from him, he’ll be enormously displeased. And I can tell you from personal experience that he’s horrid when he’s displeased.”

If anything, he looked even more distressed. She felt like a bully, and her anger faded. “Everyone makes mistakes. It’s how we recover from them that counts, isn’t it? I suggest you make some careful notes before you call him. Tell him everything about the drugstore. And don’t forget to be very specific about the salt and pepper shakers. How does that sound to you?”

He swallowed.

She waited, giving him time to consider his options.

“Who’s Beddington?” he finally asked.

She stared at him. He looked so baffled, so embarrassed . . .

Heat began to crawl from her chest to her neck. She felt it creeping over her jaw and pooling in two bright circles on her cheeks.

And then she heard a familiar drawl coming from just behind her left shoulder. “Is this insane woman harassing you, Father Joseph?”

Father Joseph?

Emma whimpered. Kenny took her arm before she could turn and run. “Lady Emma, I don’t believe you’ve been properly introduced to Father Joseph Antelli. He’s been head priest at St. Gabriel’s for—How long’s it been, Father? Twenty years?”

“Nineteen.”

“That’s right. I was still raising hell when you came here.”

The priest nodded.

She whimpered again. “But . . . you—you can’t be a priest. You hang out in bars and wear orange T-shirts, and—”

“Now, Lady Emma, it’s hardly polite to criticize a man of God for his lack of fashion sense. And the Roustabout happens to have the best food in town. If I’m not mistaken, the local clergy holds their interdenominational meetings here, isn’t that right, Father?”

“The first Wednesday of every month.”

“But . . . you were watching me.”

“I’m very sorry about that, Lady Emma,” he said earnestly. “I’ve always been a bit of an anglophile, and I wanted to chat with you about England. Father Emmett and I are planning a trip there in the fall. I should have simply introduced myself, but when I realized how . . . complicated your personal life was, I decided not to intrude on your privacy.”

“Oh, dear. I can explain. All those things you saw—I mean, the other night . . . and the way I was sitting on Kenny’s lap . . . and the salt and pepper shakers—It’s—”

“Her friends are going to make sure she gets treatment real soon,” Kenny said.

Father Joseph regarded her with kind eyes. “Psychological problems are nothing to be ashamed of. I’ll pray for you, Lady Emma.”