Free Smoke by Kaye George Page B

body?” said Immy.
    Ralph puffed out his cheeks and blew. “Immy, for the last time, we didn’t process the pig at all. We’re not trying to track down Gretchen’s killer.”
    “But what if the same person killed both of them? Have you thought about that?”
    “No, we think Rusty probably killed the pig. Looked like he was gonna make it into pork jerky.”
    It all finally got to her. Immy ran to the bathroom to throw up.
    * * *
    Wednesday Immy left work early again. As she was lifting her purse out of the file drawer, Mike walked into the front room. Immy thought of it as her office, but it was, she had to admit, the reception area.
    “Leaving, kiddo?”
    “I have some things to do. That shower this weekend, and we’re running low on Cheerios. I swear that’s all Zack eats.”
    “You get those bills sent out for the background checks?”
    “I’ll do them first thing tomorrow.” She hiked the purse to her shoulder and shut the drawer. Standing, she stood eye to eye to the little man.
    “And the filing for those child custody surveillance jobs?”
    “I did most of them.” She shifted to stand in front of the pile of folders awaiting a home in the gray metal file drawers behind her. She’d spruced the place up considerably since she started work in the spring. The bare walls now held travel posters from the agency next door. Her gray metal desk was adorned with a pretty, floral desk clock that matched the pen cup and blotter she’d found at WellMart. Several cinnamon candles scented the room while she worked. They helped to combat the walnut scented ones Mike always burned in his office, and of which Immy had gotten tired by her second week. Mike never seemed to notice her efforts, though. He seemed focused only on her filing and billing.
    Mike peeked around her, at the pile of folders, and raised the eyebrows on his narrow, weaselly face. “Okay, kid, stay late tomorrow and you’ll get caught up. See ya.”
    Immy let out a breath of relief. If she lost this job, she didn’t know what she’d do. She might join Amy JoBeth in her depression, but not in that dark and dreary tornado shelter. She adored this job. She hadn’t gotten into the good stuff yet, but she knew it was just a matter of time before Mike would trust her with some real jobs, not just typing and filing.
    The van was parked two blocks away. Parking was a problem in Wymee Falls, at least right around here. If she got to work really early, within ten minutes of her start time, she could sometimes park right in front, but she was usually a block or two away. This seemed to be one of the few areas of town with full occupancy. Maybe the rent was cheap here.
    As she passed the windows of the travel agency, Immy waved to the nice agent that had loaded her up with the posters for her office walls. The hamburger shop tempted her as she passed, as always, but she hurried to the van so she could pick up the groceries on the way home. Louise had given her a list for WellMart, too. The theme had finally been decided. They were doing a Makeover Party. Immy didn’t want to be Madeover, but Louise was so excited that Cathy had said she’d do everyone for half price, that Immy didn’t want to spoil her joy. Louise had an insidious way of getting people to go along with her. Well, maybe not insidious. Insistent. She kept after you and kept after you until you broke down and gave in.
    Immy had forgotten why she was buying the paper products and not Louise. Something about hurting her foot. Or her hand. Or something.
    She grocery shopped for Zack’s Cheerios and some store-bought jerky for her mother. Hortense was missing Jerry’s Jerky shop already. It was Wednesday and the shop had only been closed since Saturday. Immy hadn’t had so many dreams of Rusty’s swinging body last night. Maybe they would go away completely someday.
    Next, at the WellMart at the edge of Wymee Falls, she steered her cart to the party goods section of the store, concentrating