Lethal in Old Lace

by Duffy Brown

  “What happened?”

  “You’re getting m … married at my house, of all things, and I’m your matron of honor.” She blubbered harder. “You’re the daughter I never had.”

  I kissed her forehead and hugged her tight. “With you, Uncle Putter, and Mamma, I was sort of communal property. So I’m guessing all this means the wedding plans are okay with you?”

  “I couldn’t wish for more, and Princess can be the flower girl. I’m just betting that BW’s going to be ring bearer, so Precious gets equal time.” KiKi looked up at me, eyes glistening. “We’ll put a daisy garland around her little neck, glitter in her fur; she’ll look adorable.”

  Auntie KiKi snagged an old wooden cane leaning against the wall and hobbled down the hallway with me following, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the hardwood floors. A bluesy rendition of I Found My Thrill on Blueberry Hill warbled from the living room. Candles lit the room. “No Perry Mason tonight?”

  “It’s a wake for Bonnie Sue. The geography of the song might be off, but the thrill part is right on. Everyone’s chipping in to cover funeral costs; seems she was having a tough time making ends meet these last few years. And we had some more excitement with Issy Ledbetter’s daughter wanting to move her mother out of the Pines with all that’s going on and people dying like they are. Issy pitched a fit right here in the hall, saying she wasn’t going anywhere, but truth be told, these deaths and suspicions of murder can’t be helping poor Mr. Jim’s pocketbook one bit.”

  We turned right to the first room with a plastic forsythia wreath decorating the door. Auntie KiKi opened it to a double bed with a pink-and-green floral bedspread, matching drapes, a Queen Ann desk and an overstuffed chair on one side, a loveseat on the other, and Anna and Bella gaping at us with tape measure in hand. All four of us froze, staring at each other.

  “Well, hi, there,” Anna finally managed. “This is such a … a nice room, don’t you agree? So spacious and accommodating, with a fine southern exposure and French doors right out there to a little patio, of all things.”

  “We thought you’d be at the wake.” Bella nibbled her bottom lip. “So we’re here to…”

  “Measure for new drapes and not disturb you,” Anna filled in.

  “Yes!” Bella held up the tape measure and grinned. “Mr. Jim’s having all new drapes made for the place, and we’re helping him get the numbers together because he’s so busy and we got all that community service to do. Well, we got what we need and we’ll be on our way.” Bella gave KiKi a squinty-eyed look. “So tell me, exactly how long do plan on staying around? I mean, you are looking kind of banged up today; maybe you need a more help-oriented facility like Senior Moments over there on Hull Street? Bet they’d love to have you.”

  “Think about it,” Anna added. “Fact is, you need to think real hard.”

  Anna and Bella closed the door behind them, and I gave KiKi a long look. “Holy cow, they’re right.”

  “Are you kidding? Measuring for drapes? Do those two think I’d actually fall for that whopper of a lie? What are they up to now, and why are they always up to something? Besides, I’d rather have blinds in this room and some nice curtains to let in the light. What’s the use of having big doors like this if I you cover ’em all up. I’ll talk to Mr. Jim myself and—”

  “Forget drapes.” I grabbed Auntie KiKi by the shoulders. “KiKi, you have a bump on your forehead and your ankle’s swollen for real and your hair looks like a bird’s nest and you don’t have on a speck of makeup. You never go anywhere without makeup. You’re a complete mess!”

  “Remind me not to have you write my obituary.” KiKi flopped down hard on the loveseat and propped her foot off the end. “It’s just a little accident is all. After your mamma left, I was sunning myself out there on the patio with a Key Lime Pie martini. I got up to get another lime slice to try and pep it up, and before I knew what was happening I was face down in the fountain, the thing suddenly spluttering and spitting. The plumbing around here is a mess.” Auntie KiKi dropped her voice. “I do believe it was Bonnie Sue’s ghost that pushed me in.”

  “Sounds more like the ghost of martinis past and present.”

  “One little very weak drink is not enough to make me stumble about like a drunken sot, and there wasn’t a soul in sight when Mr. Jim dragged me out. Not only did I get this here bump and gimpy leg, I ruined my new iPhone that Mr. Jim now has sitting in a bag of rice, of all things. With my luck I’ll get it back served up next to a chunk of boiled white chicken and steamed butterless, saltless broccoli. I even lost my drink when I fell, though I do think the koi fish seemed a lot happier the rest of the day.”

  Auntie KiKi leaned closer and whispered, “The way I see it, Bonnie Sue doesn’t like that I’ve taken over her room and the old hussy’s still hanging around. I keep hearing things.”

  “Heavy breathing?”

  “Footsteps. I can still feel her cold hands on my back as she gave me a good hard shove.” Auntie KiKi shivered and rubbed her arms.

  “That’s it.” I grabbed the suitcase sitting next to the dresser and flung it on the bed. “I’m packing you up and getting you out of here.” I yanked open a dresser drawer and started pulling out clothes. “It’s raining like no tomorrow, so I’ll bring the car around closer to the back. Though you’ve got to try not to fall over laughing when you see it; you have enough bumps and bruises.”

  KiKi grabbed a floral nightgown out of my hand and tossed it back in the drawer. “I can’t leave now. What if it wasn’t Bonnie Sue but Anna and Bella who shoved me in the fountain? They sure enough want me out of here—and maybe they wanted Willie and Bonnie Sue gone too for some reason. And what about those gym shoe boys? We still don’t know who they are. We’re not going to get answers with me limping around Rose Gate, now, are we?”

  KiKi folded her arms. “I’m staying put till we figure this all out and get Annie Fritz and Elsie off the hook. They’ve been neighbors for years and I can’t just walk away now, can I?”

  “Well, you should know that the hook just got a little sharper. Bonnie Sue was smothered by the pillow the sisters have in their car, and Willie was writing checks each week to Bonnie Sue.”

  “He was paying her?” KiKi sat up straight. “For being … friendly. She was a right friendly woman, to be sure, but with Willie?” We both shuddered. “See there,” KiKi went on, “I can’t be leaving here with all these questions needing answers. I’m your mole, honey, the inside man on the job. I’m James Bond, martini and all. This was meant to be and you can’t change fate.”

  Lord give me patience and hurry! I took KiKi’s hand. “I’ll get you a new phone so you can stay in touch, and Mamma, Boone, and I will stop by and check on you every few hours to see how you’re doing.”

  “Seems excessive.”

  “Have you looked in the mirror?”

  “Well, don’t be bringing me flowers, I’m putting in an order right now for something fried. Make it dead animal, crustacean, or filled pastry and something chocolate. All this healthy living is sapping my strength and I won’t be able to spy for diddly. I bet James Bond never ate rubber chicken and wilted broccoli.”

  I handed Auntie KiKi the cane. “Fried will have to wait, but I have it on good authority that Mr. Jim hoards not only bourbon but chocolate brownies. With the wake still going on, what say we raid the pantry?”

  KiKi stood and started for the door. “Maybe we can fry the brownie.”

  We headed down the hall and I flipped on the kitchen light, the overhead fluorescents flickering to life. “Sit here,” I said to KiKi, pointing at a little oak table and window seat with blue cornflower cushions. I found the brownies next to the mugs and got an apple from the fridge for me, wishing it had the word tart attached to it. I lit a fire under the teapot as Eugenia floated in through the back door, whisked off her raincoat, and flung it onto the counter.

  “Well, now, I just seem to be finding you everywhere these days,” Eugenia said to me. She twirled across
the white tile floor, her spring green chiffon dress floating out around her as she hummed “I Could Have Danced All Night.” “In spite of this dreadful weather, I had the most wonderful evening. It would still be going on, but my darling Dex has a business meeting in the morning and needs to get ready for it. He’s such a hard worker and he’s doing it all for us.” Eugenia stopped by the door and snapped up her coat. “Good night, now. Enjoy your girl time and your tea. How cozy.”

  “Eugenia,” I said. “Maybe Dex doesn’t have a meeting tomorrow? I mean, how much do you really know about him? The man runs a mortuary; early morning is not rush hour.”

  “I know plenty. I’m not stupid.” Eugenia’s lips thinned. “I Googled Dex. He’s from Atlanta and moved here because he has friends in the Oglethorpe Club and business connections and wants to make his mark.” She stuck her nose in the air. “In case you haven’t heard, he’s taking Savannah by storm, and I just happen to be part of that storm and you need to butt out of my life, Reagan Summerside.” Eugenia spun around, jutted her chin, and stomped out of the room.

  Auntie KiKi took a bite of brownie. “So what do you know that the rest of us don’t? ’Cause you are definitely up to something, bringing up old Dex like that.”

  I took a bite of apple. “Dex is burning the candle at both ends. He’s canoodling with Eugenia and the new and improved and suddenly rich Arnett Fishbine. He gave them each the same gold bracelet Eugenia had on tonight.”

  “I say we hunt him down and neuter him.”

  “According to Willie Junior, mommy dearest spent a small fortune getting new and improved and wanted her daddy to pay for it, but he turned her down flat, leaving her with some hefty bills and no way to pay them off.”

  “And then Willie ate a peanut and solved all her problems.” KiKi and I exchanged looks and KiKi added, “Arnett knew how asthma and allergies look alike because of her son having the same condition, and last I heard she didn’t give a flying fig that Willie’s burial was postponed. Sounds like another who-knocked-off-Willie candidate to me.”

  Thunder rattled the windowpanes and I gripped my mug. KiKi patted my head. “You should go before this storm gets any worse.”

  “Worse?” I dug around in Old Yeller and pulled out death-by-pink lipstick, a purple brush with sparkles in the handle, my trusty flashlight, and a canister of pepper spray. I gave KiKi the flashlight, pepper spray, and lipstick, hoping it looked better on her than it did on me. “It is vitally important to point the pepper spray away from you when activating it or you’ll hate me forever. Be sure to lock your door and wedge that desk chair in your room under the knob. Tomorrow I’ll get you a phone and the cavalry will descend.”

  “Tell them to be discreet so I just look like any other little old lady with a cane.”

  I gave KiKi a kiss on the cheek. “You are always a lady, you will never be old, and KiKi Vanderpool will never, ever be just.”

  By the time I reached the Bug, I was soaked through and scared spitless. A little rain, a little thunder, and I was fine. But this storm had left fine about an hour ago and headed straight to terrible. I drove at a snail’s pace, trying not to short out the Bug’s electrical system, which would turn the car into a dead bug and me out into the night alone. Sweet Lord, spare me that! I took a right onto Abercorn, lightning crackling around me. I had the steering wheel in a death grip, my ring sliding around on my wet finger. The streetlights blinked, blinked again, then died, casting all of Abercorn into a sea of black.

  Sweat slithered down my back and I turned onto Gwinett, the streetlights and houses there having no better luck with electricity. I pulled the Bug to the curb, decided that waiting for the rain to ease up was not going to happen anytime soon and that being alone in a storm was a lot worse than being with someone. My special someone just happened to have a candle burning in the bedroom window. I made the sign of the cross, then dashed for the house, chanting the Lord’s Prayer as I splashed my way to the porch. I slammed the door behind me and nearly passed out from relief.

  “Hurry and get up here,” Boone called from the second floor. “There’s a flashlight on the steps. My fiancée’s due home any minute now and it’s going to be hell to pay if she catches us fooling around.”

  “You better make it worth my while, big boy,” I called back, kicking off my shoes so as not to drip everywhere. I was chilled to the bone and shivering, and not just because of the rain. I had a feeling, a bad one, that someone was here in the house besides Boone. I knew what Boone felt like … warm, protective, familiar. This was different. Scary different.

  Dredging up my last bit of courage, I spun around as another snap of lightning illuminated the dining room. Someone darted into the kitchen … maybe? With this much terror bottled up inside me, it was hard to separate fact from not-fact, right? Besides, who would want secondhand clothes enough to raid the place on a dark and stormy night? It made no sense, not one little bit. I must have imagined the whole thing, and in my present state, that wasn’t hard to believe. I looked around again to see nothing but more lightning and thunder.

  “Reagan?” Boone called down again. “Are you okay? You need me to come down there and throw your sweet ass over my shoulder and haul you up here?”

  Another rumble of thunder shook the house to its foundation. I darted up the steps to find Boone sitting in the middle of the bed, shirt off, sexy as hell, reading something that looked like rolls of blueprints by flashlight. BW lay sprawled across his lap. More lightning zapped overhead, and I dove headfirst under the covers.

  Boone lifted an edge of the blanket and peeked in. “Hello?”

  I cracked one eye open and peeked back. “I’m not a thunderstorm fan.”

  “Never would have guessed. How’s KiKi?”

  “Can you visit her tomorrow and bring a fried cow?”

  “Whatever the lady wants.” Boone rolled up the blueprints, and clicked off the light. The single candle in the window danced shadows across the walls and ceiling. He snuggled down beside me as more thunder rumbled through the city. “Now let’s see if we can think of a way to get your mind off the storm.”

  “It’s not going to work. Nothing works.”

  Boone laughed deep in his throat and snuggled closer. “Wanna bet?”

  By noon the next day we had blue skies, birds chirping, and Boone had made a pretty good dent in my thunderstorm phobia. Fact is, I was looking forward to more thunderstorms and more cures. He had afternoon meetings with clients, so he volunteered for morning Auntie KiKi duty and to get her a phone.

  After I wrote up a sale for the cutest blue Kate Spade handbag that I’d had my eye on but could never afford, I hung up a brown skirt, catching my ring on the belt loop. I so needed to get the ring sized before I lost it, and I didn’t even want to think about that happening. With the Fox empty for the moment, I had time to pair the skirt with a peach blouse for the display. I was just finishing when Elsie and Annie Fritz shuffled in the front door.

  “It’s mighty nice that you asked us to mind the place while you visit KiKi,” Elsie said in a quiet voice. “We’re so embarrassed with all that’s going on, we don’t dare leave the house, and we’re missing seeing everyone over at the Pines. We always helped Mr. Jim out with things, and I’m sure he’s shorthanded now. Finding Bonnie Sue in our backyard made the front page of the Savannah Times’ home-and-garden section, of all things. Whatever are we going to do about all this?”

  “Well, you sure don’t have to be embarrassed while I’m around,” Arnett Fishbine said, elbowing her way past the sisters and dumping an armload of clothes on the counter. “Fact is, if you ladies really did the old hussy in, I’m deep in your debt and thank you kindly.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Arnett picked up a jacket from the pile of clothes she’d dropped on the counter. “Can you believe that Daddy wrote that tramp into his will? Thank heavens that now that she’s hanging out over there at the morgue, all that money that was supposed to go to her goes to little ol’ me. To
celebrate my good fortune, I’m headed to Atlanta to refresh my wardrobe.”

  She dropped the jacket back in the pile. “Sell what you can and donate the rest. In fact, take my profit from these things and give it to the sisters here for their lawyer fees. They got it coming along with my best wishes for a speedy acquittal. You all have a good day now, you hear? I sure am. Retail therapy is therapy for the soul, and right now my soul is singing up a storm.”

  Elsie and Annie Fritz stood perfectly still, mouths open, as Arnett left the building. Elsie finally managed, “I do think Willie’s daughter just thanked us for knocking off Bonnie Sue so she could go on a shopping spree?”

  “Not that we did any knocking, you understand,” Annie Fritz added in a rush. “But what truly doesn’t make sense is why Willie would include Bonnie Sue in his will, of all things. She spent time with the fellows at the Pines, to be sure, but I don’t remember her ever making nice with Willie Fishbine. Best I can remember, they didn’t have anything to do with each other at all.”

  “Bonnie Sue was hard up for money, so maybe Willie felt sorry for her?” I ventured, not quite believing the words I was saying. “Maybe she invested in Spring Chicken and Willie felt guilty that he took her money for a rotten deal and wanted to help her out?”

  Elsie harrumphed. “Feeling sorry? Helping out? All Willie ever thought about was making money and getting rich. Fact is, that’s how he convinced Annie Fritz and me to invest in Spring Chicken in the first place. He said he only invested in winners and he was letting us in on the ground floor. It was all very hush-hush and he only let in people who could afford this sweet deal. He knew we had some money with the house and our pensions and now the Woeful Weeping deal cooked up with the Pines. When things went belly-up, we were too embarrassed to talk about it, and no one else mentioned it either. I think we felt like old fools you see on TV who are so stupid and get scammed and taken advantage of. None of us wanted to believe we were like that. After a while we got an attorney and he looked into things, but there was nothing illegal going on. The contents weren’t toxic or harmful, and proclamations in the brochure of ‘miraculous rejuvenation’ and ‘youthful vitality’ aren’t against the law, since what makes for ‘youthful’ and what’s a ‘miracle’ are anyone’s guess. The vitamins sounded like something that would sell, and they did at first—till people realized they didn’t feel better at all. Then Sister and I were left with a bad investment and plumb sunk.”