Lethal in Old Lace
Page 20
“We didn’t do it,” Elsie blubbered, waving frantically at me.
“They got the sisters in handcuffs?” I said to Boone. “Really? Did the cops think they’d get overpowered by rolling pins and pie plates?
“It’s standard procedure.” Boone offered.
“Screw procedure.”
“We’re innocent,” Annie Fritz sobbed. “Though hats off to whoever did in Willie; he sure had it coming. Just look at all the trouble he’s still causing.”
Arleen had on her official detective garb of blue poly suit, white blouse, and cop face. “And you,” she said to Boone as she came over. “Don’t even think about getting those two out on bail this time around. We know for sure now that the sisters did in Willie and Bonnie Sue. We got ’em dead to rights. I’m not saying the sisters didn’t have a good reason for doing what they did, but folks can’t just go around offing the scum of this earth who do them wrong, or there’d be bodies piled high as the courthouse over on Bull Street.”
“Wait a minute.” I held up my hands, trying to get some control over the situation. “You have motive for the sisters killing Willie; that’s all.” I tried to be rational, reasonable, think clearly and not be hysterical, but hysterical was winning out fast. “You can’t arrest the sisters just on motive. Granted, Bonnie Sue was planted in with the lettuce and tomatoes, but the sisters have no motive to kill her, meaning they were framed, pure and simple.”
Aldeen folded her arms, looking smug, and that was so not a good thing. Aldeen never bluffed. If she looked smug, she had a reason. “We found Willie, casket and all, over at Bonaventure Cemetery. Some Lou Ella person and her family were looking at burial sites at Bonaventure for their sick auntie, of all things, and … and…” Aldeen’s voice trailed off, her brows knitting together as she stared at me. “It was you with the casket? You … you hid it! This is what I get for going out to din…” Aldeen’s brows furrowed more. “You did that too? You arranged the whole bloomin’ thing. That’s interfering with police business.”
“Actually, that’s a date.”
“My guess is you already know Willie’s untimely demise was an allergic reaction to peanuts, but what you probably don’t know is the inhaler in Bonnie Sue’s handbag that we found when we dug her out of the garden belonged to Willie and there were pulverized peanuts in the mouthpiece. One swig from it and Willie was a goner.”
“Okay, so Bonnie Sue whacked Willie.”
“Except Elsie’s prints were on Bonnie Sue’s handbag.”
“She picked it up to toss in the garden plot with Bonnie Sue.” I said.
“And Annie Fritz’s fingerprints were on Willie’s inhaler in Bonnie Sue’s purse. We didn’t bother to check the contents of the purse that closely until we realized Willie had some help getting dead. The sisters killed Willie because he scammed them, Bonnie Sue knew they did the deed, and the sisters killed her too. They thought burying Bonnie Sue along with the inhaler was the end of it all, and it would have been if it weren’t for that dog of yours.”
“BW?”
“He may be in line for a Savannah Super Citizen Award. He’ll have a plaque down at the riverfront on the hero monument. The news outlets are going to eat this up with a spoon.”
I held Boone’s hand tight, probably cutting off circulation. “We don’t want a spoon. We don’t want a plaque. The sisters are our friends and they wouldn’t kill anyone. They make red velvet cake, for Pete’s sake, and great pies and cookies, and they may be the biggest leaves on the kudzu vine and they may have done a jig when Willie bit the dust, but they weren’t the only ones jigging.”
“They were the only ones who left their fingerprints behind, buried the body, and had the feather pillow in their car. They have motive, means, opportunity.”
“You got this all wrong.”
“I doubt it, and thanks for the date and be sure and let me know when we’re going shopping for bridesmaid dresses. I think I lost another two pounds.”
Sirens wailing, the cruisers headed off down Gwinnett. The crowd started to break up, and I sat down on the curb by the Bug because my legs refused to transport me up the sidewalk to the Fox. “What are we going to do now?” Boone sat down beside me and I choked back a snivel. “Got any great ideas? Even little ones would help.”
“For openers, Aldeen’s got it wrong about Bonnie Sue. Her death wasn’t an afterthought or a reaction to Willie’s murder; it was planned right from the beginning. The inhaler winding up in Bonnie Sue’s purse was planned. First knock off Willie, then Bonnie Sue, then frame the sisters. Annie Fritz’s prints on the purse come from dumping the body in the garden, but the big question is, how did the killer get Elsie’s prints on the inhaler?”
“Because … because the sisters helped around the Pines. Willie saying ‘Can you get me a martini, a glass of water, my inhaler’ would be a natural request. The killer takes the inhaler, laces it with peanuts, and sets it on Willie’s bedside table. He takes a swig and lights out.”
“Here’s the tricky part. The killer had to switch the laced inhaler with the fingerprints with the fresh one before the coroner came, meaning the killer had access to Bonnie Sue’s things. The killer had to have put the fingerprinted inhaler into Bonnie Sue’s purse after he smothered her.”
Boone looked me dead in the eyes and we both said, “The killer lives at the Pines.”
I jumped up. “And my mother and auntie are there right now, nosing around and asking even more questions that’re bound to draw more attention! We got to get them out of there.”
Boone pulled me back down. “Trying to tell the judge and your auntie what to do is not going to happen. They want to help, the sisters are their friends too, and your mother and KiKi are stubborn just like another lovable member of the family who shall remain nameless in the interest of premarital bliss.”
“This time I’m laying done the law.” I folded my arms and jutted my chin. “I’m giving Mamma and KiKi one more day, just twenty-four hours to find something at the Pines, and then they’re moving back home and I’m not kidding.”
“Do you want to inform them of this deadline, or should I?”
After depositing a still-zonked-out BW in the house, Boone headed for the police station to see if he could help the sisters. Bail again would be a long shot at best, but he knew people on the inside, and they could watch out for two little old ladies, especially if that looking-out included promises of cakes and pies.
Morning at the Fox was slammed, with clothes coming in, clothes going out, and Joy Herman’s grandson playing hide-and-seek in the blouses and turning over the whole rack. At least all the extra hoopla took my mind off the sisters and their dire straits for a bit.
“You should have called me.” Mamma looked at the pile of clothes on the counter and came around to my side and started hanging. “You’re swamped here and need help. I’m still staying at the Pines but I can lend you a hand.” She gave me a hug. “And I heard the police hauled off Annie Fritz and Elsie. What should we do?”
“And whatever it is, count me in.” Arnett whooshed into the Fox, hair dyed to a soft copper, new dress clinging to her liposuctioned figure. “I want to contribute to their defense. I know I gave the proceeds from the sale of my clothes here for their cause, but I want to do more.” She dropped a wad of bills on the counter. “This should help.”
I stared at the money. “They haven’t even been charged yet.”
“Of course they’ll be charged. They’re guilty and who could blame them. Not me.” Arnett added a few more bills to the pile. “My daddy hoodwinked them out of money and that little harlot Bonnie Sue was part of it. The sisters were ticked and knocked them both off. It was all right there in my daddy’s checkbook that I came across this morning. Money he made from Spring Chicken investors, the deposits, and the checks he wrote each week to Bonnie Sue ‘for services rendered.’”
“Services?” Mamma and I exchanged knowing looks and I said, “Bonnie Sue was known at the Pines for her �
� unique skills. Maybe that was the service?”
“Skills schmills,” Arnett scoffed. “My daddy was not the sort to pay for pleasure, especially that kind of pleasure. A good bottle of Kentucky bourbon now and then and that was it. Fooling around was not why he was giving Bonnie Sue money, I can promise you. The only reason my daddy paid money was to make more of it, period. My bet is on old Bonnie Sue being part of his sales force; that was the only way to get money out of the old geezer. The night he died I’d been at the Pines earlier to get a loan—just a loan, mind you—for a lip job and an eyelid tuck. He wouldn’t cough up a dime; that’s the way he’s been all my life. I checked into the clinic anyway, and good thing I did. Now I look amazing, thirty again, the doctor even said so. Not only did I wind up getting the money to pay for the procedure; I got Dexter Thomas to boot. Best money I ever spent … or more to the point, Daddy ever spent. Life is good for me and I owe it all to Elsie and Annie Fritz.”
Arnett took the bills and slapped them into my palm. “If they need another infusion, you just let me know. There’s more where this came from.”
Mamma and I watched Arnett wiggle her hips out the door. “All this time Bonnie Sue selling shares in Spring Chicken for Willie was the connection between the two of them? Why didn’t I see that?”
“We were thinking Bonnie Sue super sexpot, not Bonnie Sue super swindler. Willie sweet-talked the women into parting with their money and Bonnie Sue sweet-talked the men, along with a few other things thrown in to make life interesting. Willie and Bonnie Sue stayed apart, so it didn’t seem so much like a con game and more like ‘I have this fantastic deal and because I’m your friend I’ll let you in on it.’ It’s really kind of brilliant if you think about it.”
“And maybe it is the reason why Mr. Jim’s hurting for money now. Bonnie Sue could have persuaded him to invest like she did the others. Mr. Jim’s a guy; he liked Bonnie Sue. Bonnie Sue liked anyone who could grow facial hair. Losing the money was bad enough, but Mr. Jim’s pretty miserable that he can’t give his one and only daughter the wedding she wants and that he’s struggling to make ends meet on the Pines. So, what if he blamed Willie and Bonnie Sue for his situation? Except what doesn’t fit is why he would frame Elsie and Annie Fritz. They’re all friends and even business partners.”
Mamma hung up a pink Gap T-shirt. “It was the easy way out for him and better than getting caught and going to jail for life or worse.” Mamma reached for a yellow raincoat. “We can add Mr. Jim to the suspect list, but Arnett has to go. She was having a lip and eye plump the night her daddy died. KiKi and I are still working on the gym shoe guys and finding out who they are. We asked Emmitt and Foley, but they had no idea what we were talking about. All they can think about is Bonnie Sue and who loved her more. The problem with everyone else is that ‘Did you own a gray pair of gym shoes and put them in the trash?’ is a tough conversation starter, though it might come to that if we can’t think of something else. And we can’t look too eager or everyone will know we’re up to no good.”
I grabbed the hanger out of Mamma’s hand. “That’s it, you’re done. All this nosing around and asking questions is bound to get the killer more suspicious than they are already. Boone and I think he lives at the Pines and we know the gym shoe guys live there. It’s getting too dangerous for you and KiKi to be there. You both need to come home now and that’s final.”
“Oh, Reagan, honey,” Mamma chuckled. “You are just too sweet to worry like that.” She kissed my cheek. “All I can say is, fat chance.”
* * *
“Pizza is not exactly diet food,” I said to Boone as we crossed Hull Street after parking the Bug. “I should get a salad with oil and vinegar.”
Boone reached for my hand. “A few minutes of peace and pizza sounds good to me, and woman does not live by lettuce and tomatoes alone.”
“If she’s getting married and needs to fit into a wedding dress, she does.”
We ducked under the black-and-white awning of Screamin’ MiMi’s and claimed our preorder of double pepperoni pizzas, two salads, two beers—one root, one not—from Lou at the counter. The eating area at MiMi’s was small, with mismatched chairs and jars of Parmesan and crushed red peppers at the tables. The place was way more hole-in-wall than cuisine and big on takeout to anyone who wanted good pizza or just a slice to eat al fresco over in Crawford Square.
Boone led the way past two girls in electric green biker shorts chowing down on calzones to a table by the chalkboard sporting the regular menu and daily specials. He cracked open the box, we took a moment to savor the deliciousness in front of us and I spotted Dexter Thomas at a table in the corner. Some babe with flashy jewelry including a gold bracelet and crystal heart sat with him, sharing a sausage-and-mushroom pizza.
“Yeah, I just saw them too,” Boone said, keeping his eyes on the pizza. “And that’s the gal Dexter was with over at Abe’s on Lincoln. Any idea who she is?”
“None, but I’d say this is woman number three in Dexter’s current list of female companionship. But what are they doing here? MiMi’s is close to the Slumber, so it’s convenient to his work, but it’s not exactly the sort of place you’d expect to see Mr. Up-and-Comer plus honey.”
“Unless Mr. Up-and-Comer plus honey doesn’t want to be seen.”
“Dexter?” came a voice from the front by the cash register. “Is that you?” Eugenia asked, all bubbly and coming his way. “What are you doing here?” She giggled. “You don’t like Italian food.”
“Neither do you. What are you doing here?” Dexter paled.
“Oh, Dex, now that was a tiny little old fib. I love Italian. I just said that to please you and I stopped in here to get a slice before the wake at the Slumber and … and…” Eugenia slowed. “And who is this, Dex?” Eugenia’s smile froze and she nodded at the woman.
The flashy woman stood, an equally fake grin in place. “I’m Dexter’s … sister from out of town.”
Eugenia glared at Dexter. “You don’t have a sister, only a brother; you told me so yourself. And you two were holding hands and not in a sister–brother sort of way, and is that lipstick on your face?”
“Pizza sauce.”
“It is not pizza sauce! And I know you, Dexter Thomas, you would never bring family to a place like this to sit at these unseemly tables and eat, and ohmygod she’s wearing my bracelet! She’s wearing the bracelet you gave me,” Eugenia screeched, holding up her own bracelet.
Eugenia pointed a stiff finger at the woman. “Who are you and what are you doing here with my boyfriend who’s supposed to be at a Rotary Club dinner getting an award? Dexter, what is going on? I demand to know right this minute, you hear me?”
Chapter Nineteen
Everyone at MiMi’s sat perfectly still except for iPhones snapping pics, videos, and Instagramming. Dexter slowly got to his feet. It was drama Savannah-style. The only thing missing was the popcorn.
“Now Eugenia, sugar.”
“Don’t you Eugenia, sugar me. Who is this woman, Dexter Thomas?”
“She’s … well … a friend.”
“Oh, for crying out loud, Dexter, man up,” the woman said. “It’s over. Even this stupid girl can figure out the truth by now.”
“Stupid?”
The woman faced Eugenia. “I’m his wife.” She held up her left hand, the wedding ring catching the light. “And the only reason Dexter is with you or at least pretending to be is that he wanted to buy Sleepy Pines cheap and needed you to get your daddy to sell it off for the price he wanted.” She turned to Dexter. “And you bought us all the same jewelry? Dex, sometimes you are such a schmuck.”
“You don’t love me? You used me!” Eugenia growled.
“Just like he used that biddy, Arnett,” Wife went on. “What a joke you both are, not that it matters. We don’t want the Pines now, and we don’t need Arnett’s money.” Wife tossed her auburn hair and hooked her arm through Dexter’s. “We’ve decided to go into a partnership with Elder Planning and build a
retirement village complete with all the amenities. We’re selling Eternal Slumber to a big conglomerate and making a killing.”
“I’ll show you how to make a killing!” Eugenia picked up the half-eaten calzone from the biker’s plate and flung it. Dexter ducked but Wife didn’t, the glob hitting her square in the nose, cheese and sauce sliding off her chin.
“How dare you!”
“Oh, I dare, all right,” Eugenia bellowed and sailed a meatball, catching Dex in the eye.
Wife snapped a slice of sausage-and-mushroom from her own plate, flinging it at Eugenia. The triangle did a complete flip midair and landed across her chest, sticking like glue.
“This is a new dress!”
“Well, now it’s not, is it,” the wife huffed. “And you need to cool off.” She threw her glass at Eugenia, Coke flying everywhere as Eugenia fired off a breadstick dunked in pizza sauce.
“That’s enough!” Lou barreled out from behind the counter, grabbing Eugenia, and Dexter snagged his wife before she unloaded a really yummy-looking Italian salad with black olives and anchovies.
Boone picked a piece of pepperoni from the pizza and popped it into his mouth. “I wonder what Lou has in store for the second act.”
By the time we’d finished our pizza and fought our way through the crowd trying to get into MiMi’s—thank you social media—it was nearly seven when we got to the Slumber.
“This place is packed too.” Boone looked at the line snaking across the lit porch and onto the sidewalk. “Didn’t anyone stay home?”
I counted on my fingers. “A murder victim’s wake, a gigolo unmasked who happens to own this place, and the great pizza war? How could anything top that? Trust me, no one’s staying in tonight.”
“Did you hear what happened with Eugenia?” Auntie KiKi whispered as she and Mamma hurried up to Boone and me. Line cutting was a big no-no except in times of needing to use the bathroom right quick and urgent gossip that simply could not wait another minute.
“We were there.” I nodded to Boone. “I wish I knew where Eugenia was now, and Arnett. They have to be devastated.”