Kelly Rysten

A Shot of Trouble: A Cassidy Adventure Novel


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item. This time I decided that whatever I wore would tell Rusty what kind of an evening he was in for. But I also decided that I wanted something wrinkle resistant that would pack easily so that if I kept it folded and stored in a gym bag maybe it would remain wearable for when it was needed. Finding outfits that fit had never been a problem. Anything in a 5 or 7 usually worked well. The problem was finding something that looked like my style. Looking like Skipper had some disadvantages. If I bought anything typical then I looked like a kid playing dress up with my mom’s clothes. If I bought juniors clothes I looked fifteen. I had to think cute and perky, but older cute and perky, and not grandmotherly cute and perky. I was only twenty-six. You’d think it wouldn’t be that hard. I suddenly realized that Lavene would know what to do, so I jumped into the Jeep and headed for the mall.

      “Girl, would you look atchoo! I thought you said you wasn’t becoming a cop. You said you were tracking.”

      “I am, but occasionally I find myself in a uniform. Only problem is I have a date tonight and I don’t want to go dressed like this.”

      “All right! Date clothes! That’s the kind I like! And you got a ring on your finger! How’s married life treating you?”

      “Wonderfully, it’s been quiet though. That’s why we’re going out tonight.”

      “I got just the thing to add spice to your life. Lookie here.”

      The dress she held up was like Swiss cheese. I couldn’t even figure out where the head and arm holes were when it was on a hanger.

      “Lavene, I couldn’t wear something like that.”

      “Aw, come on. You’re smart. I’m looking for a customer who can figure out which way it goes.”

      “It’s not that kind of a date.”

      “Aw, I bet it comes off easier than it goes on.”

      “Think Skipper. That usually works.”

      I took an armload of outfits into a dressing room. Too stiff, too flouncy, too old, too young, it seemed everything was too something. I worked my way through the pile and found the Swiss cheese dress on the bottom.

      “Lavene! I am not trying on this dress.”

      “Aw, come on. Be a sport. You and I are the only ones who are gonna see it.”

      “Oh, all right, but I am not going to buy it.”

      I turned the dress this way and that. It was made of spandex. Why Lavene would take me for a spandex girl, I didn’t know. I finally figured out that all the holes ran down the sleeves and around the front of the dress so the one large hole for the head was plainer. I slipped it on and pulled it around until all the holes were in the right places.

      “Lavene,” I called out, “if Cat Woman ever became a hooker, she’d wear this dress.”

      “Lemme see.” Then, “Hmm, it does fit you though. And it makes you look, umm, curvy. You’re sure you won’t buy that dress?”

      “Rusty would think I’d found a different profession.”

      “You’re not going to a disco?”

      “I don’t even know how to dance. This is more like a quiet dinner, maybe a drink.”

      “Maybe some hanky panky? If so that’s the dress.”

      “No, I couldn’t.”

      “Couldn’t buy the dress or couldn’t hanky panky? Ready for round two?”

      I sighed, “Okay.”

      I worked my way through the second armload of dresses and came to a quick halt.

      “Lavene, I think we can stop now.”

      The dress was white and silky, almost gauzy. The top was fitted, almost like a swimsuit and the skirt floated and swished in interesting ways.

      “What do you think?”

      “Cat Woman it ain’t, but neither are you.”

      “Do you think he’ll like it?”

      “Girl, they like anything with a skirt.”

      “Okay, hold this for me while I run over and look at shoes. I doubt my uniform shoes go with a white dress.”

      By the time I got checked out it was time for me to head back to the station. I peeked in Rusty’s window and opened the door a crack.

      “Give me fifteen minutes,” I said and then went off to the locker room to change. I slipped on the white dress, slip and shoes. I definitely had to stop going shopping whenever I got stuck in town. I looked up and down at all the lockers. Fifty women’s lockers and maybe ten women were working at the station. I needed to find out who was in charge. I brushed my hair. I didn’t have a curling iron or make-up so there wasn’t much more I could do. When I found Rusty again he was talking to Tom in the lobby.

      “I’ll have to send you out shopping more often,” he said smiling. The woman manning the front counter sighed.

      “You wanted a date, Lavene helped me find a date dress. Hi Tom, I guess Carla filled you in on our trip to the school.”

      “Oh yeah, definitely. She had to go bail out her husband, who broke down on the freeway, and she left me a message. ‘Check out Kima Tumibay’ was all it said. A little more information would have been helpful.”

      “Kima Tumibay is a teacher at Del Sol Elementary School, room 16. What we got out of one of her students was that Mrs. T was unusually agitated, so much so that she took two days off afterwards to regroup. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t see that as being unusual. I’d expect the people most affected by this to need some peace and quiet after a school shooting. But the little girl said that while the shooting was going on her teacher kept saying, ‘How did they know?’”

      “How did they know what?”

      “I don’t know but it sounded like Mrs. T thought the shooters were looking for her. Her room is down the wing where the shooter got away. Carla and I watched her for a little while. She’s a very pleasant Filipino woman. The kids love her. I can’t imagine her having any enemies.”

      “We’ll have to see about that. Thanks for the information. Was there anything else?”

      “Yeah, Ricco is a cool dog and he’s lucky because he gets to wear a uniform. Three boys want to be policemen when they grow up and two kids wanted us to arrest the school bully.”

      “Are you ready?” Rusty asked.

      “Yeah, I chose an outfit, you choose dinner.”

      “What kind of place is this? The sign is in four languages, but none of them are English. None of them are our alphabet. I’ve ruled out Mexican, German, French, Greek, Italian…”

      “It’s Asian.”

      “Well, I’d kind of narrowed it down that far.”

      “That’s right. It’s Asian. It’s a good place to try new things because they have lots of different kinds of food. By the way if they say a fish is fried it could be that the whole fish is fried. I know you don’t like your food to watch you when you eat it.”

      “Thanks for the warning.”

      A maitre d’ seated us in a booth next to an indoor water fountain. All the tables had starched white tablecloths and matching napkins. The servers were dressed in black and white with complimentary starched, white aprons. Flowers adorned the tables.

      I was glad I was feeling brave because none of the dishes had names that told me anything about them. Should I try Delightful Threesome? Raging Volcano? Enchanting Sunset? I noticed Raging Volcano had a little pepper symbol by it.

      Rusty