Lethal in Old Lace

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Lethal in Old Lace Page 11

by Duffy Brown


  Mamma sipped her cappuccino and bit into her Danish, not a touch of foam daring to cling to her lip or a crumb of pastry landing on her skirt. “Honey, a lot of people are connected to the Pines—even your auntie, of all people—and Dex is just a sleaze when it comes to women. All you can do is drop a few hints to Eugenia and hope she figures things out for herself, but right now we have a wedding to think about. Your wedding.” Mamma held up her cup. “Here’s to Walker and marriage and hoping you can focus long enough to put those two together.”

  Mamma headed off to Sleepy Pines to get Auntie KiKi up to speed on the latest wedding plans, and I headed for the bus stop. I needed to meet Boone at the bank to get things moving on the great attic venture before the rest of the ceiling caved in on us. I also wanted to tell Earlene about Bonnie Sue. Earlene could read about it in the paper, of course, but she seemed to genuinely care about the woman. I spied the bus two blocks away and waved my hand to make sure Earlene saw me actually standing at an officially designated location like a good law-abiding citizen.

  Earlene got closer, then closer still, not slowing down one lick. She stuck her nose in the air and powered right past me, stopping a block away. Good grief, now what?

  “Well, this sure is a surprise,” Earlene snorted when the bus door slid open and I stepped inside huffing and puffing. “Look who it is, that snooty Reagan Summerside person who thinks she’s too good for the bus now that she’s got herself a hot pink scooter to buzz around town on. Don’t think I didn’t see you the other day flying right by me.”

  “What about now? I was standing where I was supposed to be.” I pointed out the window. “Right back there alongside the orange oval with ‘BUS STOP’ stamped right in the middle. Why didn’t you pull over for me?”

  “I did pull over, just a little later than I should. Makes you appreciate the bus more if you have to run after it once in a while.”

  I dropped change in the box and sat down. “I have bad news.”

  Earlene hit the gas. “Your wedding better not be called off, girlfriend. I already bought a dress that’s going to have Big Joe salivating like a hound dog.”

  “The wedding is still on, but that little old lady you wait for each week over by Sleepy Pines? Well, she’s sort of kind of dead.” I totally sucked at delivering bad news.

  “What’s sort of?”

  “Beyond sort of; she’s just … well, you know what I mean.”

  Earlene made the sign of the cross and I joined in. “I suppose I should have seen it coming,” she sniffed. “Every Tuesday she and that little old man with the goatee who got on at the next stop, catching the 8:43, would sit side by side and laugh and have such a good time together.”

  “Goatee?” I sat up straight. “Short, bald, gray … are you sure about the laugh?”

  “Well, he only laughed with her and no one else. He tried to put a button in the fare box once, thinking I wouldn’t know the difference, and now that I think about it, it was more of a sneaky kind of laugh than a belly laugh, if you know what I mean. They’d get off at the same place every week at the corner of Oglethorpe and Bull. When he passed away, I guess she did too. I hear this happens—one goes and then the other just can’t cope. She must have died of a broken heart, though she did have friends at River’s Edge Retirement Community. She’d catch the bus and visit there once in a while. When you find out when the wake is,” Earlene added, “let me know. I’d like to pay my respects.”

  I got off the bus at Oglethorpe and Bull Street and watched Earlene fade down the street, meshing into morning traffic. I looked around, wondering why Willie and Bonnie Sue always exited here at Chippewa Square. It was nice enough, but Savannah had twenty-three really nice parks. Why here all the time? You’d think they’d mix it up a little. Maybe they wanted to grab lunch at Six Pence down the street—except the restaurant didn’t start serving till eleven-ish. Two hours was a long time to wait for lunch even if the Pence did have the best shepherd’s pie on the planet.

  I crossed Bull to Savannah Bank and Trust, pulled open the heavy glass door, and spotted Boone already seated on one side of a desk with a yellow-bowtied bank official on the other. Boone had on his usual jeans but, in honor of the occasion, wore business attire in the form of a blue button-down shirt. He’d once told me that a suit made him look like a hitman for the mob so the judges had given him a special dispensation not to wear one in the courtroom. My guess was that this dispensation had had a lot more to do with tickets to the Atlanta Braves and a case of Johnny Walker Red.

  “So you’re getting married,” the banker said as I parked myself beside Boone. “When’s the big day?”

  Boone smiled, signed some joint bank account papers, then passed them over to me. “We’re not sure; we’re just enjoying the moment.”

  “Well, don’t wait too long.” The banker tapped a newspaper and leaned back in his chair. “That’s what this little old lady did, and now she and the man she came in here with all the time are done and gone. You think you’re going to live forever and then suddenly somebody’s burying you in their garden and there’s a really bad picture of you on the front page of the Savannah Times.”

  I started to add my signature below Boone’s, then stopped and grabbed the newspaper. There was Bonnie Sue staring back at me. “You mean this woman and Willie Fishbine came in here together?”

  The banker drummed his fingers on the desk. “I need to keep customers’ business confidential, but now that they’re both gone … Every Tuesday those two were here when we first opened the doors. They’d get off the bus across the street, make deposits, and then leave. He had checks, and she always had a check from him; that’s why we all thought for sure they’d tie the knot sooner or later. It looked as if he was kind of supporting her. Then they both went and kicked the bucket before anything came of it. Darn shame. You better get that date set before something happens and you wind up like these two.”

  “October, and we’re having pot roast,” I said, scribbling my name. I thanked the banker, grabbed Boone’s hand, and hustled him out the door.

  “October? When did this happen?” Boone wrapped his arm around my shoulders and we started down Bull Street.

  “When I got us out of getting married at the Sugar Bell. Now it’s Auntie KiKi’s house, October is nice weather, six months off gives us time to get organized, and Mamma’s doing the ceremony, and none of this is cast in stone if we want to change something. What do you think?”

  Boone planted a kiss in my hair. “Sounds perfect, and now that we got the wedding all figured out and ready to go, what do you make of Bonnie Sue and Willie Fishbine together? I gotta say I never saw that one coming.”

  Again, oh, for the life of the groom. A venue and date did not a wedding make, but at least he hadn’t said “let’s get married at Abe’s on Lincoln and do shots and chicken wings.” “I took the bus to get here and Earlene said Willie and Bonnie Sue got on the bus at different stops. That means they didn’t want anyone at Sleepy Pines to know they were an item, but why? What difference could it make?”

  We stopped in front of Six Pence, and Boone rested his hip against a little red VW. “You said Willie bit the dust over a peanut allergy? I got the coroner talking about the two deaths at the Pines and he didn’t say anything about peanuts in Willie’s stomach, and it would have come up because of the allergy. How could Willie die of a peanut allergy without peanuts? The coroner did say that Bonnie Sue was suffocated probably three days ago.”

  “You talked to the coroner?”

  “It seemed only fitting I should meet this guy, since he’s coming to our wedding, plus getting to know the coroner is always a good idea. Amazing how coffee and doughnuts gets people talking. Bonnie Sue was suffocated by a down pillow, probably an old one. Yellowing feathers were found around her collar and one in her mouth. She had a tassel clutched in her hand.”

  “Pink tassel?”

  “That sounds like more than a lucky guess.”

  “The sisters
have an old pink pillow with the stuffing coming out, and it has tassels. They sit on it in their Caddy to see over the hood during their shrinking years. With them as prime suspects, Ross and her merry band of law enforcers are sure to search the sisters’ house and car right off. Call Uber or Big Joey or someone to come get us. We need to get that pillow before Ross does. We need a car!”

  “Or we can take this car.” Boone patted the fender he leaned against. He reached in his pocket and pulled out keys dangling from a purple puffball. “The Chevy won’t be ready for another week, and Jimmy over at Car Spa said I could borrow Henrietta here. It’s her daughter’s car and she’s away at school.”

  “It’s a freaking ladybug. It even has the black spots. Are those eyelashes over the headlights? Is that a big key sticking out the back? You’re really going to drive around in a car that looks like a giant toy?”

  “This from a woman who owns a pink scooter.” Boone puffed out his chest. “I’m secure enough in my manhood to handle it.”

  “That makes one of us.” I snagged the puffball. “I’ll drive. If the other kids see you behind the wheel of this thing, they’ll beat you up—unless they’re laughing too hard.” Boone curled himself into shotgun and I cranked the ignition. “Elsie and Annie Fritz are minding the Fox. Text them to keep Ross away from the Caddy at all costs.”

  “I’ve seen those two in action. Are you sure you want to add that last part?”

  “We got to get to the smoking pillow—that’s like a smoking gun but softer and prettier and just as deadly. If Ross finds it, the sisters are toast, and I know that taking the pillow is obstruction of justice, so it’s a darn good thing I got a heck of a great lawyer to get me off if I get caught.”

  I gave Boone a quick kiss and we barreled off, or at least did as much barreling as a pimped-out VW bug could muster. I only ran two yellow lights—okay, one was kind of orange-ish, but we needed to hurry. We screeched to a stop in front of Cherry House as a police cruiser pulled up right behind us. Annie Fritz stumbled out of the Fox into the front yard. Her hand to heart and a herd of shoppers following.

  “I think it’s safe to say that the sisters got my text.” Boone got out of the car and I did the same, Ross and two cops hustling right behind us.

  “It’s her little old heart,” Elsie bellowed as she raced down the steps, waving her arms in the air. “You all need to do something right quick before it’s too late.”

  “It’s acting up something terrible.” Annie Fritz patted her chest and gulped in lots of air. “Thank the Lord above you’re here,” she said to Aldeen. “I need an ambulance. I need a doctor. I desperately need a nice dress to be buried in. Save me, save me.” Annie Fritz did a quick spin and, eyes fluttering, collapsed against one of the cops. He did the heroic catch, and a sobbing Elsie grabbed Ross by the front of her navy polyester jacket. “It’s a true blessing you arrived when you did.”

  As if on cue, BW let out a mournful howl, Boone tried not to laugh, and I inched my way toward the back of the sisters’ house. The Caddy sat in the driveway, looking all nice and innocent. I opened the door and yanked out the pink pillow minus one tassel. Mission accomplished! I congratulated myself on a job well done and was quietly clicking the door closed when a firm hand landed hard on my shoulder.

  “I’ll take that,” came Ross’s voice from behind me.

  I spun around and gave her a big toothy grin. “My, you’re looking skinny. You’ll be amazing as my bridesmaid, the prettiest one for sure.”

  “There’re laws against bribing cops with wedding party status, you know.” Aldeen held out a plastic evidence bag and I dropped in the pillow. “I’ve been dieting two days now and it’s killing me. I had doughnut meltdown this morning and dunked a roll of masking tape in my coffee.”

  “Look, you can’t lock up Elsie and Annie Fritz; they didn’t knock off Bonnie Sue, and all you have is some flimsy circumstantial evidence connecting them to a crime they didn’t commit.”

  “I have the murder scene.” Aldeen tapped the car hood. “The weapon.” She held up the pillow. “And Bonne Sue was buried right here in this very garden, sprouting plastic leaves. I still don’t know how to classify that one.”

  “What about desperation over getting sent up the river for something you didn’t do? And what was their motive in knocking off Bonnie Sue? Tell me that, huh? Why would they do such a thing? Those two poor old souls—”

  “You mean those poor souls who just put on an Oscar award–winning performance out there on the front lawn to keep me and the boys busy while you snuck back here to get rid of crucial evidence? Personally, I thought the howling dog was a bit over the top.”

  “Maybe a little, but BW likes to ham it up, and the truth is that Elsie and Annie Fritz just happened to find Bonnie Sue in their car and had to get rid of the body so it wouldn’t seem like they’re a jinx. With all the people dropping dead over at the Pines since they started their Premium Woeful Weeping Package for the residents, the sisters didn’t need another body to make people feel nervous. They had to hide Bonnie Sue. Think about it. It makes perfect sense that they’d want her alive, not dead, because of the jinx. There’s just no motive for knocking her off.”

  “That you know of.” Aldeen folded her arms, giving her girls some much-needed support. “You think these oldsters are all walkers and hearing aids and they sit around and sip liquored-up sweet tea and play canasta day in and day out? Well, that’s not all they’re up to. I’ve heard stories, lots of ’em, and Elsie and Annie Fritz aren’t in the middle of this mess by accident. They’re involved in something, and you need to quit interfering or you’ll wind up getting married at the courthouse—and not in the fashion that will make your mamma smile.”

  Aldeen thrust out her hip and tossed her head. “But now that you mention it, I do believe I’ve lost a pound or two. Let me know when we’re all going dress shopping. I just ordered some new Spanx to smooth out my womanly curves so I’ll look right fetching.”

  I followed Aldeen back to the front of the house, where the sisters were being herded into the cruiser and a news team from WSAV was pulling to the curb. Boone headed for the Bugmobile, no doubt to follow Elsie and Annie Fritz and somehow save their behinds yet again. I had serious doubts he could pull it off, and the sisters’ sobbing theatrics probably wouldn’t work a third time.

  I followed a group of customers back into the Fox, and by late afternoon the curious crowd and TV cameras had thinned out and my Godiva candy box was fuller than usual. At least there was some good to come of all this. The bad part was that the sisters and Boone had not returned, dark clouds hung over St. John’s, and Willie Junior was heading up my sidewalk. “Where is he? What did you do with my grandpa?”

  “I’m sure your grandpa is just fine,” I said in a cheery voice to reassure a lady looking at two new straw hats on the dining room table. I hooked my finger at Junior to get him to come behind the counter. I lowered my voice, hoping he’d take the hint. “Your granddad’s safe and sound, and we need to keep him that way till we find out what’s going on. Do you have any idea who’d want to harm your grandfather?”

  “Are you kidding? My mother, that’s who.” I gave Junior a finger-across-the-lips sign to quiet him down. “Grandpa made money on some vitamin deal, and she wanted him to pay for a facelift. She couldn’t talk him out of the money, no matter how hard she tried, and believe me, she tried a lot. Now Grandpa’s dead and she’s acting stupid and running around town with a flashy dude half her age. She got a new credit card and she’s spending money all over the place like a crazy person. She thinks she’s really hot.”

  “Did your grandpa ever talk about someone named Bonnie Sue?”

  “Who’s Bonnie Sue? What does she have to do with my grandpa? I thought you were supposed to be a big-time crime solver, but you’re stupider than my mom. You got three days to find out who killed Grandpa or I’m putting that video I have on YouTube and telling everyone you murdered him ’cause you didn’t like him and y
ou hid his body and you’re nothing but a big old dumb liar.”

  Junior stormed out of the Fox, the hat lady giving me the evil eye, just as a smiling Boone balancing two Vinnie-Van-Go-Go’s pizza boxes with a six pack on top strolled in. I was always beyond glad to see him, but now his timing was perfect. Nothing got a woman out of a bad mood faster than a great-looking guy in the room. The lady’s “Eat dirt and die” look instantly morphed into a sweet smile and she pranced past Boone and out the door. I quickly locked it behind her.

  “How’d it go with the sisters?” I asked.

  “I got them out on bond using my house as collateral. We’re skating on some pretty thin ice here, and if they go on the lam, I’m setting up my law practice here between the blouses and the sweaters.”

  “Well, it’ll improve my business, that’s for sure.”

  He tapped the pizza boxes. “I figured you’d be off to visit KiKi and her ankle tonight, so I have two contractor guys coming over to take a look at the attic and see what’s going on up there. It’s raining hard, and maybe we can find that leak before you, me, and BW are sleeping in a moat instead of a bed.”

  Boone put the boxes on the counter, gave me his devil smile, and pulled the purple puffball with keys out of his pocket. “It’s starting to rain hard out there.” He nodded to the window as a crack of lightning lit up the sky. “Someone could get really wet riding around on a scooter.”

  “Really wet?”

  “Really, really wet.”

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  “Heck, yeah.”

  I grabbed the keys, kissed Boone, and ran out the door.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rain slapped the windshield, sending the wipers into hyper-mode as the light from streetlamps and neon signs reflected off the drenched pavement. Traffic sucked; everyone had suddenly forgotten how to drive because water was falling from the sky. I made a right onto Barnard and pulled to the back of the Pines. Trying to remember where the low-hanging branch was and not trip over the horseshoe court again, I sprinted past the fountain, heading for the back door, and tapped the glass window. The door flew open and KiKi threw her arms around my neck, sobbing as she dragged me inside.

 

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