Page 11 of A Rose of Steel
“I don’t know,” he said, pulling his head back and touching his lips with his fingertips. “What is it?”
“Looks like crumbs.”
He swiped his fingers across his lips and then rolled the residue between his fingers. “Maybe it was from the groom. When I did mouth-to-mouth.” He looked down at it. “Something he ate back there,” Alex said and licked his lips trying to clear off the remaining bits. “Ugh!” He made a face. “It’s bitter.”
“I don’t think it was from the caterer,” Floneva said. “That caterer wasn’t letting anyone get a taste of anything. He said it was for the reception and couldn’t be touched until then.”
“She should know,” Auntie Zanne said, then leaned in and lowered her voice. “Just like she should know that you never eat the food for the reception before the wedding even starts.”
“I don’t know about that,” Alex said. “I have proof that that groom got a hold of food from somewhere.” He ran his fingers across his lips again for good measure. “And I can understand why that caterer didn’t want anyone tasting anything he’d prepared. It’s awful.”
“Yeah, I’ve got a bitter taste in my mouth, too,” Auntie said and narrowed her eyes at Alex.
“Are you from Chicago?” Chester asked.
“I am,” Alex said. “I came to see Romaine. Thought she might want to grab a bite to eat. I wanted to talk to her about something.”
“She just ate,” Auntie said.
“I did not,” I said.
“You said you were in the kitchen getting something to eat.”
I had said that, but I never did get the chance to eat anything. But I didn’t want to go back and forth with Auntie Zanne looking like a petulant child in front of Alex.
“What do you want to talk to me about?” I asked, those butterflies starting their dance again.
A lopsided grin appeared on his face. “You’ll see. When we talk. Might be something you like.”
“Well if that ain’t vague,” Auntie said. “I’ve got something to help you spill all the beans.”
“Excuse me?” he said, leaning toward her trying to understand what she meant.
“I need to get to the office,” I interjected. I hadn’t ever told him about Auntie’s “side” job. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and checked the time. “I’ve got a delivery and I’m late. You want to come with me?”
“The office?” Alex cocked his head to the side and stepped back from me. “You’ve got a job down here?”
“Yes, she does,” Auntie Zanne said.
“No, I don’t,” I said to her, then turned to Alex. “I don’t have a job.” I shook my head. “I just offered to help set up the new office for the County ME.”
“Why did you do that?” he asked.
“The medical examiner died,” I said. “He’d served as the ME for three counties for thirty years.” I shrugged. “They just wanted a more updated facility for the next medical examiner.”
“Which will be Romaine,” Auntie Zanne said.
I smirked. “No it won’t,” I said.
“Mark my words,” Auntie said.
I hated when she used those words. With all of her sixth sense, voodoo hocus pocus, it seemed she was never wrong when she spouted that pronouncement.
“Well, it’s okay,” Alex said. He looked down at his clothes and shuddered as if a shiver ran up his spine. “I need to get cleaned up anyway. What about dinner? Then you can tell me all about your ‘job.’” Alex chuckled.
“Okay. I can do that,” I said.
He blew out a breath. “I’m going to have to find a room for the night and get cleaned up.”
