Anita brought closure to my perplexing problem. Fanny would forever live in my heart.
Satisfied, Anita left the Row with a bag of lotion, salt scrub and a warning. “Don’t you dare use too much salt scrub. It’s oily. If you slip in the tub, I’ll call the paramedics to hoist your naked butt out of the tub.”
Anita chuckled. “Will they be good looking? I got that gardener’s phone number for you. I promise I won’t get too greasy.”
“Don’t you dare promise.” I walked her to the door and hugged her neck.
“Bye!” When Anita promised not to do something, that was exactly what she planned to do. She was cantankerous like that.
After Anita left Sandy collapsed onto her favorite spot, the stool behind the counter. “I’m pooped. You ready to close up?”
I was worn out. It had been a long day. So much had happened, we needed a real day off. “Guess so. Let’s call it day. I’ll bring in the easel.”
Crossing the Row’s threshold, I looked both ways quickly. Never again would I blindly dash out any door. Grabbing the easel, I folded it closed and hurried inside.
I was shutting the door when a man growled, “Not so fast.” He crammed his foot between the door and doorjamb, and I couldn’t shut it.
“No… you won’t… I won’t let you….” I put all my weight against the door, smashing it against his foot.
“What in the world?” Sandy shrieked.
“Call 911,” I yelled. Cold adrenaline coursed through my veins.
The man hissed, “I’m not finished with you. I’ll get you.”
With a forceful body slam, he broke into the Row, knocking me off balance. My hands went out, my knees hit hard and my palms skid along the slick floor until my chin hit the solid hardwood planks.
That knocked the wind out of me, but I didn’t black out and rolled over. Trying to catch my breath, I heard Sandy shriek louder.
Morris Beasley had Sandy by the throat. Laying on my back, I watched her feet come off the floor. Sandy fought him, tussling with him back and forth.
Etta screamed, running and lunged into them. Morris deflected her, and she fell backwards against a bath bomb bin, and it clattered across the room.
With all my might, I grabbed the lip of the showroom table and hoisted myself up enough until I was even with Morris’s knees.
“Uhhh!” With both feet, I hit him square in the back of the knees, taking him down. He let Sandy go and she sputtered out of his reach, but like a crazed animal Morris scrambled across the floor toward me.
Etta crawled along the floor and underneath the swinging doors.
“I’m gonna take you out. You and the other woman.” He flung himself at my chest and grabbed my throat. He shook me like a rag doll.
“No! Get off me.” He squeezed hard, and I raked at his ugly face, clawing with my fingernails hard enough to break his skin. His sweaty face hung next to my nose, his foul breath smelled like a grave.
“He’s the demon I saw at the hotel. I’m gonna kill him.” Demon? Was that Fanny I heard?
“Fanny help me.” I pushed back against his grasp with strength I didn’t know I had. I wasn’t about to let Morris Beasley take me out… I had unfinished business in this life. My knee landed hard in a perfect spot in his crotch.
“Argh!” Arching, he moaned, let go and rolled off me.
I fell back, gagging and blood rushed back into my head too fast. Woozy, I grabbed for the table leg. If he lunged at me again, I’d pull the entire table of cake plates crashing down onto both of us.
On the floor next to the door, Morris writhed, crying, “Help. Stop… don’t… stop that hurts.” He jerked spasmodically.
“My word!” Sandy croaked, gripping her neck, but she managed to make a diagnosis. “He’s having a stroke.”
I pulled myself upright, leaning against the table.
He moaned, jerking harder.
“You bastard!” Fanny flickered in mad kaleidoscopic Technicolor glory, a hell-bent, she-devil sewing Morris into a web of pain.
She flitted her sewing needle. Across his face, pinpricks bled and she continued to fiercely poke him, quickly stabbing her sewing like a wasp defending itself, until Morris lay quiet. He hadn’t had a stroke, but he would wish he had when he woke up in jail with thousands of pin pricks on his ugly body.
Sandy stumbled over, grabbing my elbow. “We must go.”
“No, wait. I can’t leave him. He might get away.”
Etta rushed into the showroom waving her cell phone. “I called 911.”
Sandy pulled on me. “C’mon. He’s had a stroke. Can’t hurt us now.”
Fanny floated away from Morris and asked, “What’s a stroke?” She was so vibrantly beautiful, flickering with strength and confidence.
“A stroke is a brain bleed.” I was so happy to see her, I didn’t care if anyone heard me talking to her.
Sandy huffed. “You don’t need to tell me what a stroke is.”
“I was talking to Fanny.” I winced free of her hold.
“Right,” Sandy groaned. “Of course, you are.”
Sirens blasted up Central Avenue.
“Everyone freeze!” A cop yelled bursting through the Row’s open front door, holding a pistol. Etta didn’t freeze, but screamed and ran back into the showroom.
Sandy didn’t bat an eyelash at the cop and very calmly said, “That’s him. Shoot him.”
The cop straddled Morris pointing his gun at him. Morris moaned and put up his hands. “Don’t shoot. I did it.”
A swoosh of cool air washed through the shop and Teddy shouted, keying open the back door. “Patti! Where are you?”
Morris flopped over on his back and let the cop search his pockets. When he moved, Fanny took a step forward, her needle ready. “If he tries anything, I’ll send him to the Beyond, right quick.”
“Don’t. Let him live. Stand trial for what he did to Veronica. She needs justice.” I hurried to Fanny’s side.
“I didn’t really mean shoot him.” Sandy folded her arms across her chest.
Teddy pushed into the showroom with his hands up. “Hey man, put that gun away!”
The cop dropped his gun and produced a pair of handcuffs. He and Teddy securely trussed Morris with handcuffs and zip ties around his ankles. He wasn’t going anywhere.
Teddy hurried to Sandy and me. “You two okay?”
“Yeah!” He hugged my shoulders, and I leaned against him. It was nice having him at our back.
Etta asked, “Can I go now? This place...” She had her purse in her hand and was heading toward the door.
The cop shook his head and I said, “Better wait on Dick.”
“Not him again,” Etta groaned, but sat on the stool behind the counter. She needed hazard pay to work at the Row. She faltered into tears. “I quit.”
“Please don’t,” Sandy said. “We’ll get this mess straightened out.”
It didn’t take long for Dick to arrive and haul Morris away. He left a detective I didn’t recognize behind to question us. That was good for Etta, but she called Willa to come to her rescue once again.
One by one, we left the shop. Teddy took Sandy home, she was too shaken to drive, and I bowed sweetly at him as he helped his sister out the backdoor.
I flipped Sandy’s open sign over to closed, turned off the lights, locked the door and huddled in the safety of the loveseat.
Frankie wiggled out from underneath a cushion. “What the? Anita left you.”
Morris Beasley had traumatized the poor dog enough. Shivering, he curled into my lap. I patted his head and he didn’t even growl.
“Jaysus, I am dead.” Fanny flickered into sight beside the etching of her tombstone. “Right pretty thing, don’t you think?”
“I do.” I admired the etching, I was too tired to get up. “I’m going to find out who killed you. We all need some justice.”
“No hurry.” Fanny sat on the arm of the sofa. “I can wait until we find Willie. That’s most important
.”
“I promise. If anyone can find him, it’s Anita. What about the Beyond? You were in such a hurry to get there.”
Fanny’s red ribbon appeared in her hands, and she began to sew with the needle she had just used as a weapon. She bowed her head over the fabric.
“I been thinking. Maybe the Beyond isn’t all that it’s made out to be.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m thinking you need my help, right here in the soap shop.”
I smiled. “You can stay. If it wasn’t for you... I bet the Beyond is no fun compared to the shop.”
“I won’t be much trouble.” She looped her needle in and out of the nearly invisible fabric.
“Ha! I don’t believe it.”
Also by Violet Patton
Bathhouse Row Cozy Mysteries
Bath Bombs & Beyond
Coming soon:
Found Dead in the Red Head
Hot Water Hills Hogs & Dogs
Coming Soon: Desert Oasis Cozy Mysteries
Alpaca My Bags
Wool Over Your Eyes
Wool Over Your Eyes
No Prob-Llama
The Hot Water Hills Society
Ruby
Katie Jo
Dorrie
Thank You For Reading
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Violet
About the Author
Violet Patton writes cozy mysteries and humorous Southern fiction.
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