Free Slay Belles by Nancy Martin Page B

gets arrested? A nice, normal sort of man won’t cause you any more heartache. You’ve had your share already, Nora.”
    I waved to the waitress. “Check, please!”
    “When are you going to wake up? That Man is a criminal.”
    I grabbed the check out of the startled waitress’s hand. “Let’s go home.”
    On the way back to Bucks County in the minivan, I distracted Libby by asking about Cindie Rae’s Web site. My sister knew everything.
    “It’s sorta like QVC, only Cindie Rae has most of her clothes off when she talks about her product.”
    “Does she make much money?”
    “Well, I noticed she uses a nine-hundred number, which means the customer gets charged for making the phone call to her. She takes requests, you know. There must be a bunch of weird regulars who watch all the time and call in to chat. I don’t know if she sells many of those crazy-colored dildos. I didn’t watch for very long. The fuzzy screen gave me a headache.”
    “She can’t be on camera twenty-four hours a day, of course.”
    “No, no. She’s got her Web cam on all the time, although she’s not always on-camera. She puts up little signs to advertise when she’ll be back. It’s adorable.” Libby heard my choke and said quickly, “In a very yucky way, of course.”
    Libby dropped me off at Blackbird Farm. The house was empty, and I found myself actually missing Spike’s annoying presence.
    I went upstairs and took a long, soaking bubble bath with a book, then put on my pajamas and took my laptop to bed. Sitting Indian-style, I typed up my notes on the Aquinas party and e-mailed the piece to my editor.
    Then, still wide awake and feeling brave enough to take a look, I located Cindie Rae’s Web site on the Internet.

Chapter 7
    Maybe I have a delicate stomach, but when the grainy picture finally came into focus,
yucky
did not begin to describe how I felt.
    I heard her voice first.
    “And if you’re feeling frisky, boys, you can try this fun toy outside in the fresh air. Just be careful, because somebody might be watching! Some naughty person could be spying on you. Ooooh . . . For under twenty dollars, you can please yourself or your lady friend. And if you act now, I’ll throw in a special gift, just for you.”
    As she giggled, the camera honed in on something large, long, and neon pink. Cindie Rae’s talonlike fingernails scored the length of it as she brightly began to describe the various ways she could employ such a grotesque item. While she spoke, the camera blurred as if run by an amateur photographer, then landed on Cindie Rae’s bare thigh and began a leisurely tour of parts better left unmentioned.
    I clapped my hand over my eyes. “Oh, God!”
    “And girls,” Cindie Rae continued, “if you’re planning a wild and crazy bachelorette party, let me show you a few fun games you can play with your girlfriends. No, wait— I think I hear a caller! Hello, baby, are you there?”
    “Uh, yeah, Cindie Rae, how you doin’?”
    “I’m doing great! What’s your name, honey?”
    “Uh, Dick.”
    “Hi, Dick! What can I do to make you happy tonight?”
    I peeked between my fingers. Cindie Rae’s face filled my computer screen, and her smile was perkier than the Friendly’s waitress had been.
    I turned the sound off, got up, and went into the bathroom for a Tums.
    Padding back to the bed, I heard a whistle from downstairs and then the sound of footsteps on the staircase. With a rush of guilt, I allowed my finger to hover over the “quit” button.
    “I’m up here!” I called, still debating.
    Michael came in crooning “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” in his best Elvis impression. He carried a glass of milk in one hand. With the other, he plopped Spike into his basket. “What did you do? Take a really hot bath? You’re all pink.”
    “Not as pink as some people.” I turned the screen so he could see.
    He took a slug of milk first and climbed onto the bed to kiss me on the mouth. “Whoa,” he said when he