Divas Are Forever

by Virginia Brown

  He looked startled. Then he grinned. “You’re the first person to ever ask that. That’s the average rate for repainting a car at a reputable dealer. You’re entitled to the entire amount.”

  I felt rich. I smiled. “I’ll get a good job done on it. Thank you.”

  And that was it. It had been so easy. Not all modern conveniences are convenient. This certainly was very convenient. I considered going on home. After all, driving around in a car that has blood-red curse words painted on it wasn’t my idea of fun. But rescuing Bitty from some manic scheme was even less fun, and that was likely if she hadn’t gracefully accepted the verdict that she should allow Jackson Lee to handle it.

  So I drove back to Bitty’s to be sure all was well. Someone had put a tarp over the Benz in her driveway, and no one came to the door. Rayna’s car was gone. Inside, Chen Ling barked a protest at my knocking. Bitty must have gone somewhere with Rayna and Gaynelle.

  I remembered my cell phone. It had only a partial charge but should have enough life for a phone call if I kept it short. I called Bitty’s cell. No answer. I called Rayna. No answer. I couldn’t remember Gaynelle’s phone number and hadn’t taken time to update my contacts, so I got back in my car and drove over to Rayna’s. Her car was there. I parked and started up the path when I saw Rayna and Gaynelle in the garden, so switched course. I went through the garden gate, stopped to pet the dogs first, and then joined them at the table.

  “That didn’t take long,” Gaynelle said as I sat down in a wrought iron chair. Rayna pushed a glass of lemonade toward me, and I took it. Fragrant mint added a nice flavor.

  “I was shocked. Things are so much simpler these days. I rather like the convenience, even when I moan about the good ole days. Pay no attention when I do that, by the way.”

  “We never do,” Rayna said with a smile. “Where’s Bitty?”

  I paused with the lemonade at my mouth. “I thought she’d be with you.”

  “No, we left her with the insurance adjustor. The woman said it’d take a while, so we told Bitty to come over after they were through.”

  “Really. Huh. Well, her car is there, covered up with a tarp, and her dog is there, making loud noises, but Bitty didn’t come to the door or answer her phone.”

  “Maybe she’s in the shower.” Gaynelle frowned a little. “Or maybe she had to go off with the adjustor for some reason. To sign papers or get the check.”

  “They do all that on a laptop and print out the check right then,” I said. “Unless this was an old-fashioned adjustor who doesn’t know anything about that kind of technology.”

  “I doubt it,” Rayna said. “She looked awfully young. I thought she was a little old to be selling Girl Scout cookies when she first came up, but she said she was from the insurance company.”

  “Huh,” I said again. “Did she have a business card or identifycation?”

  Gaynelle nodded. “She did. She showed it to Bitty. Quite poised, although she seemed a bit nervous. She said this was her first time out on her own.”

  For some reason, it sounded off to me. Apparently, it did to them, too.

  “I don’t like it,” said Rayna, and we both nodded. Without discussing it further, we got up and I started toward my car. Rayna detoured to tell Rob she was leaving. Gaynelle stopped before we got to the curb.

  “Let’s wait for Rayna. I’d rather ride in a car without misspelled vulgar language, if you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind at all.”

  Rayna quickly joined us after grabbing her purse and letting the dogs in. Gaynelle got in the back seat, leaving me to get up front with Rayna. It was less than three minutes to Bitty’s house, but it seemed like a half hour. I worried that she’d been duped by unscrupulous adjustors into signing a release for much less money than was needed to repaint her car; abducted by con artists and would be held for ransom; beamed up by aliens to be dissected. Yes, sometimes I get carried away with my creative problem solving.

  Nothing had changed when we got to Bitty’s house. The Benz was still covered, and no one came to the door. I went around back. It was unlocked. I knew I risked setting off alarms, but that didn’t deter me. I went in through the back, into the kitchen, and no alarms sounded, if you didn’t count the pug. She yodeled at me from the middle of the kitchen floor, looking indignant. I couldn’t get her to hush so risked losing a finger by picking her up. She quieted immediately.

  I went to the front door and let Rayna and Gaynelle in. “I’m going upstairs to see if she’s napping, but I doubt she’d leave Chitling down here alone.”

  Everything was tidy and serene upstairs, but no Bitty. I checked every room. Chen Ling started squirming, so I set her down. She immediately headed back downstairs and went to the front door, barking. I followed.

  “What is it, Lassie?” I asked as she pawed at the closed door. “Timmy’s in the well?”

  My attempt at gallows humor made Gaynelle giggle but didn’t make me feel any better. I checked the first floor, then went down to the basement, through the boys’ redecorated den with giant TV, game consoles, and a refrigerator stocked with snacks and soft drinks. I even looked in the wine cellar. It was unlocked. No Bitty. Then I thought about the upstairs coat closet. I’d once found a body in it and was rather squeamish about looking there again. But I went back up the stairs and sucked in a deep breath, then opened the door. No Bitty, no body. I was relieved, actually.

  Meanwhile, Rayna went next door to ask Mrs. Tyree if she’d seen her, and Gaynelle went out back to check the garage. Chen Ling still fussed at the front door. She seemed quite upset.

  “She just went off and forgot to set the alarm again,” I said to the dog, then stopped. It was stupid to try to explain to a dog, even if she’d listen. Instead, she scratched at the front door with her pink-painted claws, her little pink bib with Mommy Loves Me on the front bobbling with every frantic movement. Maybe Bitty had fallen in the yard. I took a chance and opened the door.

  Chen Ling shot out like a missile and went straight to the Benz. She tugged at the tarp, growling and shaking her head in efforts to dislodge it. About that time Gaynelle came from the garage.

  “She’s not out there but her new car is still here. What is that dog doing?”

  Dread began to form in my chest. “I think she’s trying to tell us where Bitty is.”

  Gaynelle and I immediately began yanking at the tarp. It was one of those heavy ones that had cords to keep it tight, so it took us agonizing moments to get it untied. Chitling kept underfoot, but I didn’t fuss at her. She was as frantic as we were.

  I finally got the tarp off and saw a huddled shape on the back seat; blond hair spilled across leather. The doors were locked. I turned to Gaynelle.

  “I need a hammer. Since her garage is unlocked, get a hammer or something.”

  “It’s locked too. I looked in the windows.”

  I turned around, looking for something to break the glass while Gaynelle cupped her hand to shade her eyes and peered inside. I saw a metal garden stake and ran to yank it out of the dirt. It came up easier than I thought it would, and I staggered backward, regained my balance, and returned to the car.

  “Stand back,” I ordered Gaynelle and took up a batter’s stance, judging where to hit for the most effect.

  Gaynelle grabbed the dog, Rayna came running across the yard, and I swung the metal yard stake as hard as I could. It bounced off the window and nearly decapitated Rayna on the backswing as she came up behind me.

  “Yikes! Trinket, wait! I have her keys.”

  She caught me just before I started to swing again, thank heavens. I’m not sure my arm could have endured another shock.

  “It’s not Bitty,” said Gaynelle as she held Chitling against her. The dog gave her no trouble at all but rested quietly in her arms.

  I looked at her. “What?�
��

  “That’s not Bitty. The hair is too long, and the clothes are wrong. No spike heels.”

  “What?” I said again as Rayna hit the remote, and Bitty’s doors unlocked.

  Gaynelle nodded. “It looks like what the insurance adjustor was wearing.”

  As I absorbed that, Rayna opened the back door and pulled the woman out by her legs. She was unconscious. It wasn’t Bitty. I just sat down on the driveway, deflated. Chen Ling howled mournfully, and I felt like doing the same. Where was Bitty? What had happened here?

  Panting slightly, Rayna checked the woman’s pulse once she got her halfway out of the car’s backseat. “She’s alive. I’m calling the police and an ambulance.”

  Gaynelle said, “It’s the insurance adjustor. This is so odd.”

  I put my palm on my forehead and closed my eyes. “Where’s Bitty?”

  No one answered. I understood. They didn’t know either.

  AS THE AMBULANCE carried away the adjustor, whom I was willing to bet was not an adjustor at all, the police questioned us. Just my luck, Rodney Farrell drew the short straw.

  “Now tell me again, Miz Truevine, what happened here?”

  “Has anyone called Jackson Lee?” I asked instead of answering. “He needs to be here. He’ll know what to do.”

  “You’re asking for your lawyer?”

  I wasn’t sure if he was shocked or excited. “No, I’m asking for Jackson Lee. He’s a lawyer, not my lawyer.”

  Farrell sighed. “I think Miz Blue called him. Now, tell me again what happened.”

  “Deputy, that’s why you’re here. I have no idea what happened. Bitty’s gone, that woman was unconscious and locked in her car—after which, someone pulled a tarp over it—and we can’t find my cousin.”

  “That’s very strange.” He wrote in his little book, squinting in the sunlight that felt hotter by the minute. Then he looked up at me again. “Could she have gone off with someone else?”

  “She could have sprouted wings and flown to the moon for all I know,” I snapped, and Farrell took a step back. I sighed. “Deputy, I’m very worried. I’m hot, and I haven’t had a good day, and I want to know she’s safe. That doesn’t seem to be too much to ask.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I understand. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  He walked off, leaving me standing in the hot sun in Bitty’s front yard. Two police cars were at the curb. The ambulance was long gone. Another officer talked to Rayna, and the third talked to Gaynelle. He glanced my way, and I recognized Barron Stewart. That wasn’t very reassuring.

  I turned and went up on the porch and sat down in one of the wicker chairs. It was a lot cooler, and I felt light-headed. If they wanted me, I was in plain sight.

  It wasn’t five minutes before Officer Stewart came up on the porch. He stood looking at me for a moment before saying, “You’ve scared Farrell, I hear.”

  “Really? If only I’d known it was so easy.”

  He pushed his hat to the back of his head. He had hair, I noticed. My mind raced. So not the bald guy driving the truck. Had to be Sylvester Whalen, just as Bitty said.

  “Miz Truevine, I seem to be running into you a lot lately.”

  I eyed him. “It’s a small town. Who’s the woman we found in the back of Bitty’s car, and what are you doing about finding her?”

  “It’s not that small a town. Her name is Jenna Jones, and we’ve put out a BOLO for your cousin. She’s probably just gone off to lunch somewhere.”

  “And left an unconscious woman in her car?” I had sat up, the name triggering memory. “Did you say, Jenna?”

  “That’s what was on the business cards we found with her. She only had four of them. Miz Truevine, from what I hear you and your cousin are always getting into situations that you shouldn’t and think you’re detectives. Don’t try that with me. How do you know Jenna Jones?”

  “I’ve never met her,” I said honestly.

  “Lying to the police is never a smart move, you know.”

  “That’s why I’m not lying to you.” Behind him, I saw Jackson Lee’s Jaguar roll to a stop at the curb. He got out almost before the engine died and approached the police talking to Rayna and Gaynelle. “Excuse me,” I said when Stewart started asking me why Jenna Jones was at the house and who would spray paint Bitty’s car. I pointed to Jackson Lee. “Address all your questions to Mr. Brunetti, please.”

  He half-turned, muttered something under his breath, and then said, “Did you get your license corrected yet?”

  I should have expected it. I hadn’t, of course. But then I remembered, and said, “You can ask Mr. Brunetti about that, too. The Corinth police are sending him my stolen items.”

  All in all, I felt I acquitted myself fairly well, even though I had obviously irritated the police. Again. Stewart left me alone, and I waited for Jackson Lee to join me. No point in bothering him when he was obviously asking the police questions. He’d find out all he could.

  In just a few minutes, the police finished dusting Bitty’s car for fingerprints, packed up their kits, and left, along with the officers who had questioned us. I saw Mrs. Tyree coming up the walk. She rarely used her walker, but had it this time, and clumped up to the porch with the look of a woman who neither expected nor wanted help.

  “It’s Bitty again,” she said without preamble. “I wondered why she gave me her car keys this morning. I thought she must have something in mind to give me her extra set.”

  “We don’t know where she is. Have you seen her this afternoon?”

  “No, but I did see that blond woman helping her put a tarp on her car. I was rather glad of that. Some people get offended at those words.”

  “Not since then?” I couldn’t help asking even though I knew she’d tell me if she’d seen anything.

  “No, dear. I know you’re worried. I told the police already, so I’ll tell you. I didn’t see Bitty, but I did see a truck driving past a few times when I came out to sit on the porch. It seemed odd to me, because it slowed down, then sped up, then turned around and came back.” She paused, but before I could ask, she said, “It was black, with wide tires, and a rifle rack in the rear window. If it had come by again, I might have tried to read the license plate, but I didn’t see it before I went back inside. Just thought you should know. The police like to keep things private, but sometimes you ladies actually manage to figure things out before they do.”

  Jackson Lee and Rayna stepped up on the porch, and they chatted a few minutes with Mrs. Tyree while Gaynelle came to see how I was doing.

  “You all right?”

  “Not yet. I will be when Bitty turns up. If she’s gone off somewhere on a wild chase or to get her nails done, I may yank her hair out, so stop me if it comes to that.”

  “No, I’ll just let you yank out her hair. We’re all worried.”

  “I assume Jackson Lee hasn’t heard from her,” I said.

  “He’s about frantic, I think. He tries not to show it. We all know Bitty always has to have a partner in crime on her excursions into insanity.”

  I laughed. “Usually. But we all warned her we wouldn’t help, so maybe she didn’t ask.”

  Rayna came to sit with us while Jackson Lee walked Mrs. Tyree back to her house, being a gentleman and opening the front gate for her, then making sure she got safely home. Chen Ling sat in Rayna’s lap; her little bug eyes looked moist, and I could swear she had tears.

  “Something’s happened to Bitty,” I said. Rayna and Gaynelle looked at me, and I pointed to Chen Ling. “She knows. Whatever it was, she saw it.”

  As if to prove my point, the dog whimpered, then lay down on Rayna’s lap and put her smushed little face between her paws. She fit from Rayna’s stomach to her knees.

  “I don’t know. She thought Bitty was in the car,” said Gaynelle doubt
fully.

  “Maybe that was the last place she saw her.” Rayna stroked the pug’s head, earning another whimper. Biting her lip, she looked up at me. “I think you’re right, Trinket. But how could she see anything? The door was closed, and she was in the house.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe Bitty threatened to bring her along with whoever talked her into leaving—or abducted her.”

  That last seemed the most likely. Bitty wouldn’t normally go off and leave Chen Ling in the house and the house unlocked, and I didn’t really see her attacking Jenna Jones and locking her in the car, either. I told Rayna and Gaynelle about the truck Mrs. Tyree had seen.

  “Do you know anyone with a truck like that?” Gaynelle asked.

  “Just the truck Bitty and I saw going up to the cabin. It had to be the Whalens. Either Skip and his father, or Skip and an accomplice. I thought it must be his father, because of the bald head.”

  “That’s more likely,” Rayna agreed.

  When Jackson Lee returned, we went inside and discussed our options. He had no more news than we did, as the police were being tight-lipped. Or he was.

  “So what do we do?” I asked him, and he shook his head.

  “I don’t know. I’m going to stay here, make some calls, find Catfish, and see if he has any information. He may know more than we do. I don’t want to leave in case Bitty comes back.”

  In the end, because there wasn’t anything we could think to do, we left him there with Chen Ling. Rayna took me back to her house, where we went inside and talked to Rob. He always had information, and I gave him a description of the truck Mrs. Tyree saw and added what I recalled of it from that brief glimpse as we passed it. Rob started running details through a computer program, and Rayna beckoned Gaynelle and me to come with her.

  “He works better without distractions,” she said, and we nodded understanding. “Let’s go out in the garden for a while. I’ll let the dogs out, and we can see what we can figure out.”

  “Skip Whalen has her,” I said. “I just know it. Somehow he got close enough to her to grab her. Jenna Jones has to be his girlfriend. It’d be too big a coincidence for an insurance adjustor to be named Jenna, too, Carl Jung or not.”