Free Midnight Crossroad (Midnight, Texas #1) by Charlaine Harris

the privacy of my room. Then I’ll be up to work. Olivia?”
    “Yes, Mr. Domination?” Olivia was scowling. She clearly felt she’d had the situation under control.
    “Can you find a good spot for the dead gentleman? I can bury him tonight. There might be a customer here at any moment.”
    That was quite true. It was often the case that if one customer showed up late, the whole night was filled with a steady trickle of people bearing the oddest items. “Okay,” Olivia said, though it was clear she wasn’t appeased. “I can do that. The usual place, I guess.”
    “Should be fine,” Lem said. He’d come up through the trapdoor in the floor, rather than take the conventional route of exiting his apartment door, going up the half flight of stairs to the common landing, and entering the store from the landing door. Only Lemuel and Olivia knew the trapdoor existed, it was so unobtrusive. “I know you can handle it.” He began dragging the struggling man over to the trapdoor. Though his captive was several inches taller than Lemuel, and pounds heavier, the pale man handled him with ease.
    “Thanks,” Bobo called, reminded of his manners. “I should have said that right away. You two are the Speedy Rescue Team.”
    “Glad to help,” Lem said. “Lucky you’ve got the foot alarm buzzer in here.” Lem had installed it himself, with Bobo’s help.
    “Good thing Lem was awake,” Olivia said. Bobo finally noted Olivia’s state of undress and realized that Lemuel was absolutely naked. Since Bobo hadn’t noticed those interesting facts until this moment, he’d been more upset than he’d realized.
    “Yeah, I’m real lucky,” Bobo said drily. “Sorry you two got interrupted.”
    “We don’t speak of private things,” Lemuel said reprovingly. “You might want to put the C LOSED sign up, Bobo.” His voice floated up from the foot of the ladder. Bobo, at the top, could hear the sounds of Lem’s feet as he went to his own door with the bleeding man tossed over his shoulder.
    “Right,” Bobo said. The door down below opened and closed. “Olivia, you need my help?”
    “You better stay here and straighten up the mess,” she said. “I can take care of this.” “This” was the body of the short man.
    Bobo knew better than to argue with her, especially since Lem had already rained on her parade by killing the short guy. Instead, he flipped the trapdoor shut, ignoring the subdued shriek he heard from Lem’s apartment. He hoped Lem was getting some good information, and he hoped Lem was well fed afterward. If it had been up to him, he would have called the police . . . but with Lem, some things you just couldn’t stop.
    Luckily, the dead man had the keys to his truck in his pocket, so Olivia didn’t have to interrupt Lemuel’s interrogation/meal. Olivia ran down to her place to grab some jeans and a shirt, and while Bobo was cleaning up the evidence of the struggle, including blood, she drove the dead man’s pickup to the back of the store and knocked on the rear door, which led onto a small loading platform. Bobo unlocked the door, and Olivia stepped through. She gave Bobo a fond smile and a pat on the shoulder as she went by, and when she came back, she had the body over her shoulder. There was a dreadful limpness to the corpse’s arms and legs, which moved in rhythm with her walk. “I’m on my way,” Olivia said. She wasn’t even breathing heavily.
    “How do you do that?” Bobo asked. “I guess I could pick him up, but I sure couldn’t stroll around with him without getting short of breath.”
    She grinned. “Every now and then Lem gives me some blood.”
    “Does it taste awful?” Bobo made an effort not to look disgusted.
    “Nah. Not in the heat of the moment. With all due respect to Lemuel’s modesty.”
    “Thanks again, Olivia. I expected to take a beating.” At the top of his bagful of emotions, he was relieved. A layer down, he felt a bit horrified that his attackers were dead