by Lucy Quinn
“He was stealing from her?” Dora asked.
“Sure was. Dating at our age is tough. Men either want a nurse or a purse.”
“That’s horrible,” Evie said. “I hope she reported him to the police.”
“Naw, Gertie wasn’t like that. She figured she could spread a little of her wealth around and that he must have really needed the money.”
Gertie sounded like a wonderful woman, and Evie didn’t have to fake her sadness when she said, “Goodness, she was a treasure, wasn’t she?”
Myrtle nodded as her eyes got glassy. Evie supposed the large dose of alcohol wasn’t helping the woman keep her composure.
Dora reached out and put her hand on Myrtle’s arm. “I’m sure you’re going to miss her so much. We have just one more question, and then we won’t take up anymore of your time. I hope you don’t mind.”
The woman sniffed. “Of course not, dear. I’ve got nothing but time these days with Gertie being gone.” She swallowed hard and blinked back her tears. “What is it you’d like to know?”
“There’s a man we saw who kind of gave us the creeps. But now I wonder if maybe he was one of Gertie’s boyfriends. He’s a flashy dresser, suntanned, dark hair. About six feet tall.”
Myrtle scrunched up her face in thought. “No. I haven’t seen any flashy dressers around, and I can’t think of any that Gertie might have been seeing. Huh.” She glanced between her two guests. “Do you think he’s trouble?”
Evie shrugged. As much as she wanted to tell her that Marco was dangerous, there was too much explaining involved, and she didn’t know how she could do it without giving too much away. “Who knows? But it’s always wise to think safety. You should be careful about talking to any strange men, Myrtle.”
The woman smiled, her cheeks rosy from alcohol. “Oh, honey. That’s the sort of advice I’m supposed to be giving you. It’s so sweet you’re worried about me.”
“Well, why wouldn’t we?” Dora asked. “You were a dear friend of our aunt’s, and that means we care about you too.”
“Aww,” Myrtle gushed. “Stop it or I’m going to start crying again. Gertie certainly was lucky to have you two in her life.”
“We feel the same way,” Evie said, a little worried they needed to get out of Myrtle’s apartment before she started to question why they had never visited Gertie while she was still alive. She stood up and placed the empty glasses on the tray to carry them kitchen.
Dora stood too and said, “Myrtle, you’ve been a wonderful hostess. Thank you so much for the lemonade and the conversation.”
“It was my pleasure.” She walked to the door to let her guests out. She paused and tilted her head at Dora. “You know, your new look is growing on me. You’ve got a snob-with-a-heart thing working.”
Dora’s eyes widened. “Wh—"
Evie pushed her out the door. “Thanks so much,” she called out as she shoved Dora down the hall before she could reply to Myrtle.
“She called me a snob, Evie!” Dora huffed. “Do you think I overdid the contouring? Or maybe the bob is too bobbed?”
Evie knew better than to make any comments because Dora would obsess over anything she said. “You look fine. She’s had a hefty amount of vodka and she’s grieving. Besides, she’s not exactly a fashion icon herself.”
“Hmpf. You got that right. Never trust a woman who wears shoes you can put in a dishwasher.”
“Exactly,” Evie said as she led them back into Gertie’s apartment.
They’d only just sat down to discuss what they’d learned from Myrtle when there was a knock on the door. Dora got up to peer through the peep hole.
“Who is it?” Evie whispered.
“A woman holding a very thick binder,” she whispered back. She slid the safety chain on the door and opened it a crack.
Evie rushed over to see for herself. A woman wearing a big hat with even larger flowers on it and a floral dress was indeed holding the thickest binder she’d ever seen.
“I’m here for Gertie,” the woman said in a businesslike tone.
“Oh.” Dora exchanged a glance with Evie.
Evie could see Dora was as curious as she was, but she wondered if opening up the door to this woman was going to be opening a can of worms. “What is this about?” Evie asked.
The woman let out a sigh of annoyance. “Our Mardi Gras krewe. This is very important. Time sensitive. Where is Gertie?”
“Hold on,” Evie said. She shut the door, and the safety chain rattled as she removed it to let the woman in. “You’re going to want to sit down, ma’am.”
“Flora. Flora Fletcher.”
“Of course, you are,” Evie said before she bit her lip to keep from laughing at Flora in her floral attire.
“What she means is, we’ve heard your name from Gertie,” Dora said in an attempt to cover up Evie’s utterance.
“Yes,” Flora said. “I should think you have. But who are you two?”
“Uh, we’re Gertie’s nieces,” Evie said, hedging a bit because she didn’t want to just blurt out that Gertie was gone. “We arrived yesterday.”
“Gertie has nieces? Who knew?” The woman breezed by both Evie and Dora and took a seat at the table. After pushing a pile of shipping envelopes aside, she dropped her binder on the table with a thud. “When will she be back?”
There was no beating around the bush now. Evie glanced at Dora, who rolled her eyes and took a seat across from the overbearing woman. The contrast between the two almost made Evie giggle. Dora had that no-nonsense, power-driven look, while Flora looked like someone who should be sitting on her porch, fanning herself while sipping a sweet tea.
Evie moved closer, intending to break the news to the woman, but Dora beat her to the punch.
“I’m so sorry, Flora, but our aunt passed away yesterday.” Dora reached over and covered the woman’s hand with her own, trying to express her concern.
“Gertie died!” Flora jumped up out of her chair and pressed her hand to her throat. “Oh, no. This is a disaster. A complete disaster. I told Franny we needed a backup. That Gertie couldn’t be trusted with something so important. And look, I was right, wasn’t I? Who does that? Who just up and quits on life when they are finally getting everything they ever wanted?”
Okay, now the woman was just making Evie mad. Like Gertie had wanted to die?
Dora was on the same page because she blurted, “I’m sure if Gertie had been given the choice, she’d be here with us right now and not at the morgue.”
The woman pressed her hand to her heart and let out a small breath. When she lifted her gaze to Dora’s there appeared to be contrition there, but Evie wasn’t so sure. Flora sounded just like Evie’s great aunt Lily when she’d been caught being petulant and just wanted to get her way. “I’m sorry. Of course, she’d rather be here with her nieces. That was thoughtless of me. I think maybe I’m not handling my grief well.”
Evie almost let out a snort, but she held it back. The woman was at least sane enough to know when she’d stepped over the line. Evie could work with that. “What can we do for you, Flora?”
“Well…” She bit her lower lip and gave Evie the saddest puppy-dog eyes she’d ever seen. “You see, Gertie was in charge of the float that’s supposed to roll in the parade this weekend. It’s the Women of Summer parade that’s all part of a huge empowerment conference that happens every year at the convention center. It’s kind of a big deal because this event isn’t just a parade; it’s a fundraising event, and we’re hoping to fund a new women’s shelter in town. It has to be spectacular if we want to want to win the blue ribbon and convince the city residents to pitch in enough to make the shelter a reality.” Her eyes gleamed as she added, “This year was the year we were finally going to win that blue ribbon. We just needed someone to take point. Gertie was our girl!”
“I’m sorry,” Evie said. “That sounds like a very worthy cause, but obviously Gertie can’t help you.”
“But you can!” Flora jumped
up from the table.
“I don’t think—” Dora started.
“It’s perfect, actually. This way you two can cement her legacy as a founding member of the Krewe de Quills! Yes.” She tapped her chin as if she were thinking out loud. “That’s it. You two better get to work. The float rolls this weekend. There’s a meeting at four today. See you there.” She turned on her heel to leave.
“We can’t—” Dora tried again.
But before she could finish her protest, Flora called over her shoulder, “The address is in the front of the binder. Don’t be late!” She rushed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her.
Evie and Dora stared at each other, both of them a little shell-shocked. But then Evie felt that familiar thrill of excitement and clapped her hands together like she’d just been given a really fabulous Christmas present. “Oh. Em. Gee. Did I hear her correctly? Are we going to be in charge of an actual parade for a Mardi Gras krewe?”
“Evie,” Dora hissed. “We can’t do that. We’re here to find the evidence, remember? We can’t just go running around the city planning a parade. How long do you think we can keep up this charade? It’s not the smart thing to do.”
“But it is the fun thing to do.” Evie grinned at her uptight friend. “Besides, this is a group who knew Gertie. Some of them might know if a strange man from Pensacola was sniffing around. And if we don’t do it, we’ll likely draw more attention to ourselves, not less. Do you really think that hurricane of a woman is going to let us out of this? I can already see her stomping back over later tonight if we don’t show up for that meeting today. We have to, Dora. Please? When are we ever going to have this opportunity again?”
Dora’s jaw tightened, but then she took a deep breath and let it out, just as she always did when she was forcing herself to relax. And that’s when Evie knew she’d won. “Fine,” Dora said. “But any hint of trouble and we’re out of there no matter what. Got it?”
“Got it!” Evie grinned down at Sunshine. “Did you hear that, girl? We’re gonna be float princesses.”
The little dog let out a happy bark, and both Evie and Sunshine ignored Dora when she started muttering under her breath.
7
“How do I let you talk me into these things?” Dora asked as they crossed Canal Street, careful to look both ways for traffic before heading toward a placed called the Crescent City Speakeasy. It was just a few blocks away, but the summer sun was so intense that Dora already felt sweat soaking through her Chanel blouse. She should have changed into something more breathable, but she hadn’t wanted to give up her newly found persona.
“Because you love me,” Evie said cheerily. “And we always have fun. Admit it. Without me, all of the stories you’ll end up telling in the nursing home would involve something you watched on that morning talk show, Live with Kelly and Ryan.”
Dora snorted out a laugh. “You know I don’t watch morning talk shows.”
“But you would. Eventually, one day when you retire, that’s where you’d end up if not for me pushing you. I know it in my gut.”
“Thank the heavens I have you to save me then,” Dora said, meaning it. The scenario Evie had painted was far too relatable. While it was true that Dora didn’t watch daytime television, she feared she would end up a boring person with nothing else to do if she didn’t have Evie in her life. She turned and smiled at her friend. “Promise me we’ll still be having adventures when we’re eighty. Like I want to be traveling across Europe watching you pick up fifty-something hot Italians to entertain us over dinner.”
“Dor, by the time we’re eighty, I’ll have you trained to pick up your own Italian.” Evie winked and practically skipped across the street as Sunshine pranced beside her, the two of them acting as if they didn’t have a care in the world.
Dora admired her friend’s ability to really live in the moment. For the life of her, Dora just wasn’t that girl. And until they found out what happened to the evidence they were looking for, she feared she’d be wound so tight that she’d be doing pirouettes down Bourbon Street. Or she would if she had any dance ability at all. Instead she’d probably end up flat on her butt in a puddle of questionable liquids.
“This is it,” Evie said excitedly as she fluffed her pink hair. “Come on. Let’s get our parade on.”
Against her better judgment, Dora followed Evie into the speakeasy. The club was a long, narrow, open space with eclectic art and various pieces of velvet furniture lining the walls. There were a few tables toward the back along with a small bar area. Dora had trouble imagining it full of patrons at night. The space was a little small for that. In fact, it already felt filled to capacity with the dozen or so older women milling about.
Dora still didn’t know why she’d agreed to Evie’s outlandish request. It was a bad idea. And the moment Dora spotted Myrtle sitting on a velvet green couch that had a scalloped tufted back, her heart sank. They couldn’t even use their aliases. They’d already told Myrtle their real names. Dumb, she thought. They needed to be smarter if they were going to get through this evidence hunt without Marco or the police finding them.
“Oh, good. You’re on time,” Flora said, striding toward them. She called out to the women gathered in the club. “Ladies, these are Gertie’s nieces I was telling you about.” Dora noticed Flora had changed and was now wearing bright floral leggings and a long T-shirt that had two sunflowers right over her saggy breasts, making the blooms look like they could use some sun to tilt them up toward the light.
Dora swallowed a snicker and had the insane desire to give the older lady a wardrobe makeover. Then she chuckled as she wondered exactly when she’d turned into a fashionista? Probably the moment she’d put on the fabulous Chanel clothes and felt more beautiful and confident than she ever had before.
Dora pulled back when a woman with hair dyed in an auburn shade moved into her space and attached both of her hands to Dora’s arm. “This one is perfect!” she exclaimed. She wore a white linen suit and bright red heels, making her by far the most put together woman in the room. “She’s going to make the most wonderful Scarlett. Don’t you think, Myrtle?”
Myrtle turned to Dora and smiled. “She sure will. All she’ll need is a dark wig and a corset to synch her waist. She has a glint in those striking dark eyes and a strong jaw that just screams Scarlett O’Hara. And that haughty confidence is already there.” Dora frowned, wondering if Myrtle was complimenting her or insulting her again. Myrtle asked, “What do you think, Evie?”
Evie’s mouth was hanging open, but as soon as Myrtle spoke to her, she closed it and studied Dora. “You know, once she has a low bodice on, I can definitely see it. But why do you want her to dress up like Scarlett?”
“For the float, dear,” Flora said impatiently. “The theme this year is famous couples in literature.”
“You’re kidding!” Evie clapped her hands together and squealed. “I can’t wait to see who her Rhett will be. Someone tall, dark, and handsome, I suppose. Is he a bad boy in real life, too? Because I’m going to be super disappointed if he isn’t.”
“Evie,” Dora warned. “I can’t be on the float.” She said the words, but as she heard them come out of her mouth, she wondered why the heck not? Once she was dressed up like Scarlett O’Hara, no one would know she was really Dora underneath. Besides, dressing up and riding in a parade was so far out of character for Dora no one she knew would expect it from her. Still, the guilt was right there under the surface, telling her she shouldn’t be doing anything other than looking for that flash drive.
“Of course, you can.” Evie turned to the women watching. “She’ll do it,” she said with a decisive nod. “For Gertie.”
Flora grinned, picked up champagne flute that Dora hadn’t noticed, and then lightly tapped the glass with a fork, creating a tinkling noise. The dozen or so ladies milling around the room stopped what they were doing and turned to Flora, each of them grabbing a glass of their own. “To our new Scarlett O’Hara. May this one
stay firmly rooted to the float. We wouldn’t want her toppling off like Sissy did last year.”
Laughter broke out among the women. One of them called out, “Those men at the nursing home will never be the same again. I bet it’s the only… ah, pussy cat they’ve seen in years.”
A smattering of snickers filled the room.
“If she’d been wearing knickers, old man Jenkins probably never would’ve had that heart attack,” another one said. “Sissy is lucky the family didn’t sue. Heck, she’s lucky the city didn’t sue. Her coochie was broadcast over the live cam that is set up on that corner. It was the most action she’s seen since the eighties.”
“We’ll make sure she’s tethered to the float this time,” Flora said, her face tight. “We can’t afford another coochie incident.” She turned to Dora. “Please make sure you wear under garments, all right?”
“Um, in what world wouldn’t I wear under garments?” Dora asked, bewildered.
The entire room erupted with laughter.
Evie patted Dora’s arm and gave her a pitying look. “Give Dora a break, ladies. She’s a little on the straitlaced side. But with your help, we’ll loosen her up.” She gave Dora an exaggerated wink. “Now… who can we get to be her Rhett? Do we need to go recruit a hottie off the streets?”
“Oh, heavens no,” Myrtle said. “We’ve roped in Charles. He’s a doll. You’re gonna love him.”
“Excuse me,” a woman who appeared to be in her mid-sixties said as she pushed her way through the small crowd that had formed around Dora. She smoothed the wrinkles out of her pencil skirt as her modest heels clattered on the rough wooden floor. Dora couldn’t help thinking she looked like a perfect replica of Nancy Reagan with a mix of old Hollywood and old money. “I thought I was going to be Scarlett. I already got the perfect shoes and told everyone on my Instagram page.”
“All three of them?” Flora asked as her lips twitched. Apparently there was no love lost between these women, Dora noted.
