A Garland of Bones

by Carolyn Haines

  I ordered a cup of coffee and kept an eye on Tulla and the man at the table. They were leaning in, whispering. When they abruptly got up and left, I heaved a sigh of relief. I was on vacation. Tinkie was right—we didn’t need drama of any kind. Shopping was bad enough. Drama was out of the question.

  We finished our meal and continued with our shop-by-shop tour of the town. The wares in the Columbus stores were beautiful and unique, but by five o’clock, I was footsore and weary. I stepped out on the sidewalk and almost ran into Tulla Tarbutton and another pretty woman. They were the nuevo social elite—thin, perfectly coiffed, clothes fitted and without wrinkles. I didn’t know if Columbus had Daddy’s Girls, but these ladies were kissing cousins to that breed.

  “How are you feeling, Tulla?” I asked.

  “Fine. The shock didn’t leave any permanent damage. No twitches or spells of spitting.” She pulled a face to let me know she was teasing. “Thank you and your friends for all you did.” She looked past me. “Where are the men you were with?”

  “Busy,” Tinkie said quickly.

  “Tulla, you said you were going to clean up your act,” the other woman said with a wicked glint in her eye. Turning to us, she added, “Tulla is a great admirer of men who belong to other women.” She held out her hand. “Bricey Presley.”

  “Maybe you’re the one who has an act to clean up, Bricey,” Tulla said, but without malice. “Where’d you get that brand-new Cadillac convertible you’re driving?” The two women were laughing at each other.

  “At the getting place,” Bricey said. She gave a saucy shake of her head. “Tulla can’t stand it because men give me expensive gifts all the time.”

  “Probably because she’s blackmailing them,” Tulla said.

  “If I was blackmailing them, I’d have a lot more than a new car,” Bricey said with a sniff. They both burst into laughter.

  “Are you coming down to the Riverwalk for the tree lighting?” Tulla asked us.

  “We’re headed there now.”

  “See you there. Bring those handsome men!” She gave a wave as she and her friend left.

  “I’ll bring a slap upside her head,” Tinkie said darkly as they walked away.

  5

  We met the men at the Riverwalk, where they were waiting for us, looking as innocent as Attila the Hun at a pillaged Roman village. Harold had arranged delivery of champagne and strawberries dipped in chocolate. Tinkie had her own thermos of hot chocolate, made by our host, Darla, just for her. We sipped the bubbly and ate the strawberries while we milled around the twenty-foot Christmas tree and the food tables.

  A woman dressed as Mother Goose was hosting stories for a group of enthralled children who were hanging on her every word. Elves and Santa’s helpers were mingling in the crowd, offering canapés for adults and cookies for the children.

  Darla had brought beautiful punch bowls filled with nonalcoholic drinks for all the attendees, and I noticed several of the participants spiking their cups. It was the holidays, and the night was cold. A little nip was part of the celebration.

  Coleman had thought to bring my heavier coat, which I was glad to slip into. But I was even more glad for his arms around me, holding me close against him.

  A crowd of about two thousand had gathered to watch the tree lighting, and I caught Tinkie gazing at several children staring up at the live magnolia tree in awe, waiting for that magic moment when the multicolored lights would be turned on. Cece snapped photos and I gave her a thumbs-up. Soon Tinkie would have a baby of her own. The one thing she’d wanted more than anything else was going to be hers. Good things did happen to good people. Right now I would not contemplate if this pregnancy was due to the three Harrington sisters, self-proclaimed witches, who’d given Tinkie a potion to get pregnant. The witchy sisters had given me a gris-gris bag to bring a man to my bed. Coleman had showed up, but I wasn’t going to think about that, either. Nope. Not thinking about any of that.

  Across the beautiful park area, Darla and Harold were carrying on like old friends, and I wondered if a spark of romance might have been lit there. She was a woman who would complement his life. She had all the social graces, and it was obvious she enjoyed hosting parties and events. Harold threw the best parties in Zinnia. Even if they just remained friends, Darla was a nice connection for him.

  Cece and Jaytee moved out of the circle around the tree to the fringes of the park, where they found a bench and snuggled up close together. My friend had been through a lot of hardship in her life. She was the bravest person I knew, and this Christmas she had found someone to love, someone who loved her back. I took a photo of them with my cell phone for a great memory. If they ever wanted to make Christmas cards with photos, this could be the one they’d use.

  Millie was helping a toddler who’d gotten tangled in a Christmas garland. They were both laughing. Millie looked younger and happier than I’d seen her in months. Watching my extraordinary friends, I had a lot to be grateful for.

  “You look pensive.” Coleman snugged up the collar of my coat to keep the cold wind from slipping in.

  “I was thinking how happy my friends are. It only magnifies my happiness.”

  “They do look happy. Harold has snagged him a fancy fish. Darla looks very interested in him.”

  “For today, anyway.” I saw Tulla and Bricey coming out of the crowd making a beeline for Harold. “Uh-oh, the piranhas are on the move.”

  Coleman leaned forward. “Should I go save Harold? They’ll gobble him up in two minutes.”

  “Oh, no.” I was looking forward to watching this unfold. “Harold can hold his own. If he wants to. That’s a big if.”

  The women made a fuss over Harold, and I wasn’t certain but I thought I saw a bit of jealousy on Darla’s face. That wasn’t good. Harold wasn’t a man who liked to be fought over. He enjoyed women. He was handsome, wealthy, and known as the best catch in the Delta—and therefore he liked to chase, not be chased.

  Coleman leaned over to whisper, “Pack of hounds with a ham bone. They’re licking it now. Soon they’ll go to chomping.”

  Coleman did entertain me. “If Harold screams, we’ll save him. He looks like he’s enjoying it, as far as I can tell.” Harold seemed to be at his courtliest best. The women were all attractive, and while they might suck his soul out of his ear while he slept, they were good for his ego.

  “Let’s explore the Riverwalk,” Coleman suggested.

  I jumped to my feet, hoping for a kiss. I had to hand it to Tinkie for booking a very romantic holiday trip for us. Coleman and I had found more time to be together than we normally did. We were both away from work, relaxed and playful.

  We walked down to the river and I glanced into the dark water flowing by. Of all the bodies of water, rivers and streams pleased me the most. Cece was a Gulf girl, and Tinkie had grown up in pools, but I loved the slow, gentle movement of the rivers.

  “Look, a shooting star,” Coleman said, pointing up and across the river.

  I looked up at the starry night. Coleman’s lips found mine. We were making up for lost time. Coleman’s kisses just melted my bones. I lingered in the kiss, relishing the intimacy. When at last we broke apart, I said, “This is wonderful. I’m so glad Tinkie thought of this trip.”

  “Me, too.” Coleman tipped my chin up for another kiss, but alas, Tinkie was onto us. She’d bird-dogged us successfully down to the river.

  “We’re about to start the caroling,” she said.

  “Are you sure you want Sarah Booth to participate?” Coleman asked. “I thought I’d keep her occupied here until the singing was over.”

  I jabbed him in the ribs and Tinkie grabbed his hand. “Nice try. Not going to work. Come participate.” We had little choice but to follow her.

  We made it through the singing of three carols, a speech by the mayor of the town, and the actual lighting of the tree, which was truly beautiful. It was worth waiting for.

  Just as the applause was dying, I heard the sound of heavy
equipment in the parking lot up the hill above us. The beep, beep, beep of a machine backing up, and then what sounded like a crash.

  Coleman signaled me and we took off to check it out, our group following behind us at a more leisurely pace.

  Under a bright light in the parking lot was a huge pile of cement. It took me a moment to realize that under the fresh cement was a beautiful new Cadillac convertible. “Oh, my.” I didn’t know what else to say.

  Luckily I didn’t have to say anything. Bricey, Tulla’s friend, came caterwauling across the parking lot. “My car! My brand-new car! My car! Look what someone did to my car! Call the police. I want them arrested.”

  Tinkie sidled up beside me. “Someone is playing a dangerous game in this town,” she said.

  “Cheating is always dangerous.” The warm and relaxed feeling of the evening was slipping away. Tinkie was right. Someone was eventually going to get seriously hurt if this kept up.

  “Someone is out for revenge,” Tinkie said. “Tulla’s shock at karaoke. The destruction of a $70,000 car. This is getting more and more lethal.”

  “And more and more public,” Cece chimed in. She and Jaytee had sauntered up. “Millie and I are taking notes in case we can use them in the Sunday column. I mean, seriously, dumping a load of cement into a car is pretty out there, but it’s a great image for the paper.”

  I couldn’t disagree with her. People did a lot of crazy things for love or revenge. Even murder. “Let’s just be glad this isn’t Zinnia and we don’t know these people. We don’t have to get involved in this.”

  “Good thinking.” Tinkie said. “Let’s head back to the B and B. I think we should play charades tonight!”

  Coleman and I looked at each other. We’d play charades for a while, but then we had other business to attend to.

  6

  I’d cracked the balcony door open just a little so I could hear the wind soughing in the trees and drink in the clean, fresh smell of winter. I didn’t know what had awakened me, but I was restless, and Coleman was sound asleep. The room was a little too cold, so I slipped out of bed, found my slippers and warm robe, and stepped out on the balcony for a moment to glance up at the clear sky dotted with a zillion pinpricks of light. The wide-open nocturnal Delta vista was incomparable, but Columbus, with this view across the wide black river, had a pretty good nightscape, too. My room on the third floor of the B and B put me above the treetops.

  I heard the door creak open behind me. I’d tried to be quiet, but obviously I’d awakened Coleman. “Come sit by me and keep me warm.” I patted the extra-wide chaise I’d curled up on.

  “I don’t ever remember feeling this awake.”

  I whipped around because the voice was female, not Coleman. The woman standing in front of me lifted up a pair of cat’s-eye dark sunglasses to reveal deep blue eye shadow. She wore red lipstick and capris. Her brown hair was windblown. She wasn’t anyone I knew.

  “Who are you? Why are you in my room?”

  “You said you’n’me was gonna get out of town and for once just really let our hair down. Well, darlin’, look out, ’cause my hair is comin’ down.”

  Maybe it was the sweetness of her voice that gave her away. A woman-child finally on the brink of adulthood. I knew her then. Thelma stood in front of me, waiting for me to pick up on the role of her sidekick and friend Louise. They were a movie duo that had burned into celluloid history. Thelma was a fictional character, but she was being played by a ghost.

  “Nice job with the makeup, but Jitty, you need to go home to Dahlia House. Sweetie Pie and Pluto are missing you.”

  “I’m not a dog you can order around.” Jitty was still in her Thelma persona. She put her hands on her hips and stared me down.

  “I’m not ordering, I’m asking reasonably. You have to get out of here. You’re going to wake up Coleman. Then what am I going to do? What if he sees you? You could be banished from ever going back to Dahlia House.” The thought made me really sad. My home wouldn’t be my home without Jitty. She was so much a part of Dahlia House now that I couldn’t do without her.

  “You gonna have to tell him about me sooner or later.”

  “Later. Once I know what the end result will be.” I motioned her to come sit beside me. “I can’t do without you, Jitty.” Tinkie was my partner and best friend. Cece owned a hunk of my heart, as did Millie. But Jitty—she was the key to my past, and like it or not, my past haunted me the way Jitty haunted Dahlia House.

  Jitty put on a pout that almost broke my heart. “I can’t ever go back.”

  I recognized the line from the movie, when Thelma finally understands she can’t ever return to the abusive life she’d finally escaped. “Are you talking about Dahlia House or something else?”

  “I’m trying to speak my lines.” Jitty’s impatience relieved me. She was merely playing her role.

  “Didn’t you kill a man in that movie?”

  “Maybe.”

  There was something dangerous in her lovely Geena Davis face. Thelma was a woman who’d reached her limit. Driving off a cliff was preferable to going back to a life she could no longer tolerate. “What are you up to, Jitty?”

  She grinned, and slowly my beautiful ghost began to show through the Geena Davis actress playing Thelma. “Life tests us, Sarah Booth. You know that better than most.”

  “Why are you showing up as women who murder people? Or at least who want to murder people.”

  She shook her head. “Not sure even I know. I just like the sunglasses and convertible.”

  And that would have to do for an answer as she spun in a circle and sparks of red and green shot out from her. Another moment and she was gone, leaving only the smell of pumpkin spice and cedar. Jitty knew how to make an exit.

  I went back inside and slipped under the covers, trying hard not to disturb Coleman. I thought I’d spend some time thinking about Jitty and her strange appearances, but instead, I was out like a light in under thirty seconds.

  I awoke the next morning to an empty bed and sun streaming through the open balcony doors. Coleman was sitting out on the chaise. “Wake up, sleepyhead. Tinkie has been up here twice, and I told her if she woke you up, I was going to withhold her Christmas present this year.”

  My watch showed eight-forty, and I sat up and stretched. The bedroom was chilly with the door open, but it felt good. At least while I was under the covers.

  Coleman came into the bedroom with a steaming cup of coffee for me. “Darla made a tray with a carafe,” he said. “She’s a superior hostess. She made some cheese Danish for breakfast, so it’s kind of eat when you’re hungry.”

  “I’m hungry.” I yawned, remembering Jitty’s appearance as Thelma. “Did Darla say anything about the incident of the Cadillac buried in cement?”

  Coleman sat on the edge of the bed. “She said Columbus was a conservative town, but that there were people here, like everywhere else, who got caught up in passion. She said Tulla and Bricey had both been rumored to have affairs with married men. Darla kind of felt like the wives had decided not to take it lying down anymore.”

  “Revenge.” It was the theory I’d already gone to. And a messy motive at best, especially in the world of infidelities. Revenge was the step that came after a total loss of hope that the relationship could be salvaged. Once the card of revenge had been thrown on the table, there was no going back. At least not for normal people.

  “What’s on Tinkie’s agenda for today?” I didn’t want to think about cheaters and losers. If someone was lucky enough to have love and then too stupid to appreciate it, I was happy walking on by. Not people I wanted in my life.

  “You’re touring the Waverley Mansion estate and heading over to West Point today to see that town. Tonight is the Columbus Christmas pilgrimage of homes.”

  “This sounds more fun than shopping, but what is this your business? You make it sound like you’re not coming to Waverley.”

  “Oscar, Jaytee, Harold, and I have some work to do.”
r />   “What?” I sat up. “You really aren’t going with us?”

  “I think you can tour a mansion on your own, and I’ve been to West Point a number of times. Oscar has, too. We really have to finish up some stuff.”

  “Finish up some stuff? On your secret mission?”

  “Exactly,” Coleman said. He stood up and refilled my coffee cup. He was already dressed for the day, and I realized too late that he was making a break for freedom. “See you tonight for dinner before the pilgrimage.”

  He was out the door and I heard his footsteps in the hall. Whatever those men were up to, I was going to find out. All this secret-schmeecret business was getting under my skin.

  I showered, dressed, and met “the secret mission widows” in the front parlor. The limo was back from delivering the men to whatever destination they had picked. Rex was as silent as the grave. Oscar and Harold had either bribed him well or threatened him into zipping his lip. No matter what we asked, we got stonewalled. When Tinkie asked him if he’d like to tour Waverley with us, he declined, saying he’d stay in the car.

  “So much for wheedling information out of him,” Millie said with a laugh. “Few men can stand the onslaught of Zinnia’s Queen Bee Daddy’s Girl. You have to give the devil his due, Rex is loyal to Oscar and Harold.”

  “We could withhold sex from the men,” Cece said as we walked up the brick walk to the beautiful old house with a unique design. The place was surrounded by forest. Not far away was the Tombigbee River, which had been crucial in the selling of goods and development of Waverley plantation, as it was originally known.

  “No! We are not withholding sex,” I said with more force than I’d intended, and my friends laughed out loud. I calmed my voice. “We don’t have to do anything rash. We can just follow them tomorrow,” I said.

  “True enough,” Tinkie agreed. “Now on with the tour. This place has a fascinating history.”

  Two hours later, filled with stories of tragedy and joy centered around Waverley, we were on the way to West Point. The city, one of the three in the “golden triangle,” was decorated with tinsel and lights for the holiday season. Shoppers were out in force, and the town literally bustled. I’d suggest to Tinkie that we make a trip to West Point next Christmas. We could make a tradition of visiting a Mississippi town every year just before Christmas.