Delta Bayou and the Miss Dixieland Pageant (Delta Bayou Adult Mysteries no. 1)
********* Chapter 6: Mike's Sporting Emprorium **********
Delta had spent some time thinking about her talent for the performance at the Miss Dixieland competition. Normally, contestants had to submit a video of their talent when applying but luckily she hadn't had to after the shortcut she'd taken with Phil. But still, she was in the contest and she wanted to make a show of it, so she'd asked around to see what the other girls were planning. It was mostly the usual roundup of acts: singing (Delta had been told once in high school that her singing sounded like a pig squealing- she'd always remembered that particular insult), dancing (she was a good dancer, but hadn't studied dance for years like some of the other contestants), recitations (Tabitha was actually planning on reciting a hefty chunk of the book of Psalms- it turned out that she was very religious), and playing instruments. Although many of Delta's previous lovers had told her that she was very talented at sucking dick, she didn't think that would quite work onstage. It wasn't until work one day when Stanford made a joke about Delta not being a good shot when inspiration struck.
Sharpshooting. Despite Stanford's teasing, Delta actually was a
very
good shot. She had inherited her grandfather's old revolver when he had passed away, and as a child, she had spent hours outside in the hot Louisiana sun learning to shoot it at tin cans in the woods. A lot of her friends had enjoyed hunting in middle school and high school. Delta never did like hunting much, but she did like shooting, so she would go along, and test out her friend's guns, trying them out on targets and unsuspecting trees. She'd handled all sorts of guns, learned to shoot them all well, and practiced quick drawing on top of that. It was one of the things that had attracted her to a career in the police force.
The more she thought about her act for the talent portion, the more excited she got. She would put on some sort of slutty cowgirl outfit, get a target up on stage with her and do a sort of wild west sharpshooting act. The crowd would love it. She just needed the costume and of course, the correct bullets for shooting an indoor, close-range target. The costume she put together easily with a few items from her close and a stop by the costume shop in Milkinville, which was close to the station. For the bullets, she resolved to go to Mike's Sporting Emporium in order to scope out Mike Dunn. She didn't have much of a read on him yet, though she remembered the image of him in Nick's club the night that all of the Red Cherry was going around.
Mike's Sporting Emporium was housed in a large warehouse-style building on the Eastern side of Norridgeton. It was in a good location, the center of a small shopping plaza, between a furniture store and a nail salon. The inside was organized and bright, and she passed through the aisles, looking at the various items- fishing poles, basketballs, running shoes, just about anything any kind of athlete could want. After one circuit around the store, she hadn't seen Mike at all, just a handful of employees in their uniform neon yellow polos and khakis. She flagged down one such employee- a middle-aged woman stocking yoga mats, to ask if Mike was in.
"Oh sure, Mr. Mike is just in the back. Does he know you, honey?"
"He sure does!" Delta replied with a smile. "Could you tell him that Miss Delta Bayou would like to see him at the gun counter?"
The woman placed one last yoga mat on the shelf and rose, dusting off her knees and patting her brown bouffant hair. "Sure thing. I'll let him know you're here."
Delta made her way over to the gun section and made small talk with the middle-aged man behind the counter, chatting him up about the various guns for sale. She noticed that he was paying more attention to her cleavage than he was listening to what she was saying, but she didn't mind. Mike had just walked up.
"Well Miss Bayou, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He was dressed just as his employees were, except with for the white baseball cap that covered his balding head and the white sports coat over his polo. The neon yellow of the shirt washed out his already sallow complexion. Delta shook his hand pleasantly. He seemed perfectly polite even though they were barely acquainted.
She gave him her most charming smile and explained her idea for her act in the talent portion. "So you see," she said, leaning against the counter to set off her bosom to a more inviting display. "I needed to check with someone first about the bullets that I was firing off. Since you own the sporting goods store, I thought that you would be the most knowledgeable, so I wanted to check with you before I bought anything."
Mike's chubby face lifted into a small. "Well, you have absolutely made the best decision." He shooed his other employee away and guided Delta back behind the counter, asking her about the make and model of the gun she was planning to use, and extolling the virtues of the different cartridges he had in stock against different possible target materials. The conversation was friendly, but not particularly helpful for Delta's work on the case. After purchasing a box of ammo for her performance and talking guns with Mike, she was racking her mind for a way to extend the conversation when someone familiar approached the counter.
He was dressed in tight ripped jeans and an old black tee shirt with the sleeves cut off. The tattoos across the muscles on his upper arms were familiar. "Hey there, Mike," the man said in a pronounced Southern drawl. Delta grinned in surprise as she recognized the face underneath his baseball cap. His jaw dropped open as he recognized Delta too. It was her first, and only, customer from the carwash.
"Hey there Floyd." They shook hands across the counter. Mike gave Delta a sideways glance. "Well, Delta, it was a pleasure seeing you today. I hope you have a blessed afternoon. I'd hate to keep you."
Delta smiled at Mike and then at Floyd. She knew when she was being dismissed. "It was nice to see you again, Mike. You too, Floyd." She winked at him.
Floyd grinned at her, dimples appearing in his cheeks under the blonde stubble. "Delta, was it? I never did get your name the other day." He seemed immune to Mike's impatience.
"You can get more than my name if you want to find me over in the swimsuit section whenever you are done here with Mike."
Floyd's grin grew larger and he tipped his cap at here. "Well, I might just do that."
Delta blew him a kiss goodbye and glanced over her shoulder as she left. Floyd was still staring after her, but Mike's body had gone rigid. His shoulders were stiff and he was drumming his fingers on the glass of the display case. Delta walked away quickly, and then circled back around the next aisle, peeking around a display to see what the two men were up to. Floyd was leaning over the counter, Mike speaking lowly into his ear. She saw Mike reach into the pocket of his khakis and pull out what seemed to be a small slip of paper. He pushed it over to Floyd, who glanced at it and shoved it into the back pocket of his jeans. That appeared to be the end of their interaction, so Delta scurried away towards swimwear.
