Free Runaway Mistress by Robyn Carr Page A

comes sniffing around the diner, acting like they might be looking for someone like you, don’t smile. That smile of yours is simply unforgettable.”
     
    Louise’s house was a tiny little brick box that she’d owned for thirty years. It was in a row of identical houses offering up varying colors of brick, siding or paint, just around the corner from the park, theater, post office and library. A few blocks farther was the main street and shops that saw more action from the tourist traffic. She’d had a screened back porch added several years ago so she could work there in nice weather, which in Nevada was most of the time. Garages hadn’t come with the houses, but she and her neighbors had added free-standing garages that opened into the alley and gave them easy access to their back doors. Her backyard was small but meticulous, thanks to Alex, who took care of it for her.
    Louise sat in the porch at the computer, her reading glasses perched on her nose, a stack of books teetering on the floor next to her chair. She heard the front door open and close. Momentarily Rose stood in the doorway to the porch. “I don’t know why I have an extra key,” she said. “The door is never locked.”
    “Neither is yours.”
    “I’m getting in the habit of locking up when I go to bed at night. I must do it two or three times a week.”
    Rose was taller than Louise, as was just about everyone, and still straight as a poker. Her face was what she liked to call seasoned, her hair a flaming red; she drove all the way into Las Vegas to have it colored every three weeks. Her hips were slim and her teeth strong, straight and white. She’d taken good care of herself and didn’t suffer from any of the degenerative conditions that plagued Louise.
    Rose was a perpetual fashion plate. Today she wore a black midi-length skirt and gray snakeskin boots with a slim heel and very pointy toes. A bright orange poncho was draped over her black turtleneck. Amazingly, it did not clash with her teased red hair. Her lips matched the poncho, and gold chains sparkled around her neck and wrists.
    Louise lifted her glasses and peered down at Rose’s feet. “How do you walk in those things?”
    “They look good, that’s how. Tell me you didn’t go through with it,” Rose demanded. “You didn’t invite that bald-headed creature to stay in your house.”
    Louise glanced up over her glasses. “You and Doris will get on very well. It’s obvious she could use the support and counsel of an older woman.” She pulled off her glasses. “And she’s not so bald anymore. She’s got a little hair growing in. She’s actually quite beautiful…except for that ridiculous mannish costume she wears.”
    “Phoo,” Rose said. “She’s going to rob you blind and run off in the night.”
    “If she runs off in the night, she’ll only take what she can fit in the backpack. She doesn’t even own a car.”
    “You have no reason to believe you can trust her.”
    “She’s been working for Buzz for weeks, and as generous as he is, he won’t condone any dishonest act. If so much as a quarter were missing, he’d let her go.”
    “Phoo.”
    Rose turned and left the porch. She was back a second later with a glass of iced tea—she had helped herself from Louise’s refrigerator—then draped herself in the wicker chair opposite Louise’s worktable. Although actually only about five foot four, she always wore heels to give her height, and her slender form made it seem she had very long legs and arms. “What did you tell her?”
    “That my usual house sitter was unavailable.”
    “But Alex and I keep Alice when you’re gone!”
    “Alice will be happier at home. Besides, the girl needs a place for a little while and I’ll feel better knowing she’s here.”
    “Utter nonsense. Leave well enough alone.”
    “She’s obviously in trouble. And if you dare tell her that I’m doing a good turn, I’ll have your hide.”
    “Alex is going to have a fit,” Rose