by Teresa Trent
Tyler crossed his arms. “I don’t even know why you’re questioning her. She obviously didn’t do it. She has a sleepwalking disease. You needed to be nicer to her, Grandpa.”
Dad gave him a grin. “You think so, do you?”
“I think you have a little crush on her,” I said.
Tyler blushed a deep red. “No, I don’t.” His words pierced the air proving I had touched a nerve. Dad and I exchanged a look. Neither one of us believed him.
When we returned to the car, we found Belinda Donaldson writing a ticket and placing it under the windshield wiper.
“We haven’t been here over two hours,” I said, pulling the ticket back out.
Belinda swallowed slightly as if I were a bad taste in her mouth. “No, ma’am, but you did park in a space that’s reserved for police cars.”
Pecan Bayou was too small to have a parking lot dedicated to city vehicles, so the town council had opted to reserve a space in front of each municipal building to accommodate the people who worked there.
“But I’m Judd’s daughter. I’m part of a police family.”
“Do you work at PBPD?” She tilted her head slightly and widened her eyes.
“Well, no, but—”
“Then, this discussion is over. I can’t get over how some people in this town think they’re special just because their daddy’s a cop.”
I guess she didn’t give much credence to blue pride. I took the ticket and stuffed it in my bag. “Fine.”
“Fine,” she repeated, walking down the street to find someone else’s day to ruin.
Tyler didn’t speak to me the whole way home. I was grateful for the silence because it gave me some time to think about the death of Bosco Brown. Bosco had been an obnoxious man who was way out of bounds in his methods to find the golden pecan. Ironically, when he finally did find it, someone killed him. Now whether or not they killed him for the golden pecan, or they killed him because he was such an obnoxious man, we might never know. Whoever the murderer was, they were still walking around the streets of Pecan Bayou, feeling like they had gotten away with something. They might feel like they had done our town a favor getting rid of such a criminal. Could it be the killer was cleaning up the streets of Pecan Bayou vigilante style? The idea of someone out there thinking they were allowed to kill people because they might be suspects in a crime was frightening to think about.
If Bunny could alibi Sarah, who was on the bridge, and Sarah could alibi Bunny, who was under the bridge, who killed Bosco? Of course, Sarah did show up in a bloody dress. The next question I would ask would be how long Bosco had been dead in the basement of Benny’s Barbecue. I quickly ran through the list of contestants who were fighting with Bosco over the prize. There wasn’t one of them that I felt had so much invested that they were willing to murder him for it. It also didn’t work out with the death of Mark Valencia. Once again, I was bouncing back to possible vigilante justice occurring in our town.
Who in town was so stuck on right and wrong? As I glanced over at the ticket that now stuck out of the top of my purse, Belinda Donaldson’s name came to mind. Since she had taken over the role of the meter maid, I never left my car for more than an hour anywhere in the downtown area. She loved to chalk those tires, and if she came back, I would get a ticket for sure. Ruby said that she had collected fourteen tickets on her yellow Jeep Wrangler, and it had been parked in front of her own beauty shop. Belinda was a woman with a cause, that was for sure. Drifting back to my ideas on vigilante justice, I decided the killer hated wrongdoers, and Sarah Butler seems to figure prominently in each situation.
Also, the murderer was very good at slipping in and out and not leaving any evidence.
If all that was true, then I would need to somehow involve Sarah if I wanted to catch the killer. It would need to be something not fair. I didn’t normally gossip, but this time I would use gossip as a weapon. When I saw the lights on at The Best Little Hairhouse in Texas, I pulled into a parking spot. Tyler shot me a look.
“Aren’t we going home?”
“Sure, I just need to stop in here for a minute.”
“Fine, I’ll just walk home. It’s only three blocks anyway.” Tyler unsnapped his seatbelt with a jolt and exited the vehicle, striding down the street in anger. Why did I get the feeling this was going to be the world’s longest senior year? You look forward to your child graduating from kindergarten on, and then you meet the adolescent version of that apple-cheeked angel.
When I stepped inside of the beauty shop, I was surprised to see Ruby sitting in a black styling chair downing a Lone Star beer.
“Hello, Betsy. Have you come to my pity party?” Ruby asked as she guzzled some of the golden brew.
I took a seat in a second chair, resting my feet on the metal bar that served as a footrest. “Come on, if you really wanted to go on one of those singles cruises, what’s stopping you? You don’t have to win a prize to go on a cruise.”
Ruby’s focus was in the mirror as she began to peel off a fake eyelash. Now that false eyelashes were all the rage, I noticed that Ruby had started wearing them sometimes, hers complete with small sparkles at the end. If there was a beauty fad out there, Ruby was always glad to add her own spin to it.
“I suppose you’re right. I must have some room on one of those credit cards. How am I ever going to find Mr. Right when I’m stuck in this place surrounded by post-menopausal women? We haven’t had an eligible bachelor move here in years.” She took another swig. “Sorry. This really is a pity party. I’m just tired. Really tired.”
“I know, and it doesn’t help that we’ve been around two murders today. Every time something like this happens, it just makes me sad that someone would do this to another person,” I said, priming the pump.
“That’s for sure,” Ruby said.
“I’ve been working on some theories,” I said.
Ruby finished off the last of her beer and tossed it into the trash can, causing a clunk that echoed across the walls of the empty salon. “I’m listenin’.”
“Here goes. Sarah Butler is much more involved in this than we might’ve thought. I also think Sarah might’ve had something to do with illegal goings-on at Maximum Muscle. Whoever the killer was, they were very into taking the law into their own hands.”
“Just like Dog the Bounty Hunter. Now there’s a handsome guy, but he needs to get rid of that screamin’ shade of blond dye in his hair.”
“Who?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Okay. Then absolutely,” I continued.
“I’m listening. What have you got up your sleeve, Houdini?”
“Right now, I feel like I’m fresh out of tricks.”
“You know, I heard that Belinda Donaldson is glad that Mark Valencia is gone so she can open a yarn store over there,” Ruby said.
“Really?”
“Yes. She had dibs on that site before he moved in but couldn’t leave her job until June. By that time, Mark had signed the lease for Maximum Muscle.”
“I didn’t know that,” I said. “She couldn’t have been too happy about it.”
“What do you think? She was livid.”
“Was she angry enough to kill Mark?”
“Belinda? I’d be very surprised if she could go that far. Those Donaldson girls have always been high strung. I blame that on too much granola. Still, though, they don’t seem like a pack of killers.”
“I don’t know. I just feel like I’m missing something and that if I can get just one more look at Maximum Muscle, I might figure it out.”
“Like what?”
“I have no idea. If Belinda takes over the space, maybe she’d like for me to come in and straighten that place out. You know, help her organize Mark’s inventory to ship out to wherever. That kind of thing.”
“There you go with that junior detective stuff again. Here I am looking for excitement, and all I really need to do is follow you around. Everybody knows Belinda and Bunny eat at Birdie’s ever
y Saturday night. You can talk to them there.”
“Thanks, Ruby.”
She answered with a slight belch.
“What do you want?” Bunny said as I approached their booth at Birdies. The three Donaldson sisters used to sit in the far booth by the window watching the foot traffic in downtown Pecan Bayou. Poppy would sit next to the window on one side, and Bunny sat on the other. Belinda always sat at the far end of the booth and usually took care of ordering for the family. Now that Poppy was gone, her space by the window was vacant. The remaining sisters looked a little sad sitting in their accustomed places.
“If you’re here to fight that ticket, you’re wasting your time.” Belinda took a drink from a tall red plastic cup and returned her gaze to the window.
“I actually wanted to talk about your yarn shop.”
Belinda put the cup down and began tearing the napkin that was taped with paper around her silverware. “What yarn shop?”
“Come on, Belinda. Half the town knows you wanted the retail space where Maximum Muscle is now. Not that being the town’s most successful meter maid isn’t fulfilling, but I think people around here can’t wait to have an outlet for needlecrafts. May I sit down?”
“If you must,” Belinda pointed to the empty space next to Bunny.
“Now, you got yourself interrupting our dinner,” Belinda said. “What are you proposing exactly?”
In the corner of my eye, I saw Bunny scooting away from me and moving closer to the window. Birdie arrived with the sisters’ plates. Bunny had the salad, but Belinda had the chicken fried steak. Not what I expected from a person who lived with the owner of a natural foods store. From what I could tell, Bunny might be pushing her opinions on people like Rocky and me, but when it came to her sister, she knew when to shut up.
“Have you read Marie Kondo?” I asked.
The sisters answered me in unison. “Who?” Their voices sounded as if they were one person in stereo.
“You know,” Birdie said. “That little woman who runs around saying spark your joy. She has a documentary streaming right now.” Surely they had heard of Marie Kondo? The woman was changing lives.
“Who the hell is that? Does she live around here?” Belinda asked.
“Marie Kondo,” I repeated. “The organizing guru?”
Belinda flipped a wave in the air, brushing off the importance of knowing about the organizing pop star.
“Whatever. Get to the point.”
I scrambled for words. I was losing my audience. “I want to volunteer to help you organize your new store. It’s part of what I do.”
“Oooh,” Birdie interrupted. “I’d love it if you’d do it for the diner. Silas, our cook couldn’t find the flour yesterday, and we had to go buy pies.”
“If it means keeping this town stocked in homemade pies, I’d love to help out,” I answered, making Birdie smile.
Belinda took a bite of her heavily breaded chicken fried steak and squinted her eyes. “Now, why would you want to do something like that if I did open this yarn shop? I don’t have any money to pay you.”
“And I’m not asking you for any. I just get a lot of joy out of reorganizing things. You know I just did the cellar at Benny’s Barbecue.”
“You mean where they just found a body?” Bunny asked.
“Yes, unfortunately. It was so sad about Bosco Brown.”
“Right. Sad. Were you related to him in some way?” Belinda asked.
“No.”
“Good. I wanted to know if I was insulting a relative. He was nothing but a piece of prison trash. Probably got what was coming to him.”
“Wow. You really have a bad opinion of him. Did you know him?”
Belinda’s chin rose. “I gave him a parking ticket, and he threw it right in my face. I know people don’t want to get a ticket, but you don’t need to attack me. I can’t help it if you all want to willingly break the law.”
Things really had changed for Belinda since the entire downtown parking territory became an issue for every merchant on the street. Before this, she simply marked the cars in the courthouse parking lot, and that was plenty. Now she had the entire city angry with her. It was tough to be Belinda Donaldson.
Birdie placed a hand on her hip. “I don’t know if throwing tickets warrants a man’s death. He was overbearing, that’s true but so are a lot of people.”
Belinda smoothed a mound of mashed potatoes across her steak. “I say he got what he deserved along with that muscle guy.”
This was getting interesting. Not only did she have a grievance against Bosco, but she didn’t like Mark. Two victims, two connections.
“Did he throw tickets back in your face too?” I asked, trying to keep it light but hoping she would blow up a little and let more information out.
“No. He wasn’t my problem. He was Poppy’s,” Belinda answered.
“Enough, sister. You talk too much. Her father is a policeman,” Bunny warned.
“What was going on between him and Poppy?” I asked.
“Yeah, what,” Birdie echoed.
“You don’t have to answer that,” Bunny said.
“Be quiet, Bunny,” Belinda said. She turned back to me. “Let’s just say when a person likes to fish at night, they may or may not see criminal behavior occurring.”
“She saw Mark break the law?” I asked.
“She did?” Birdie repeated.
Belinda squirmed at the sudden barrage of questions. “She saw something. We’re not sure.”
“Do you think whatever it was figured into her death?” I asked.
“Enough,” Bunny said. “You’re holding up our dinner.”
Belinda took over. “All right, Happy Hinter. I don’t know why you’re doing it, but I got permission to go through the store tonight and take measurements. You can meet me there and give me your ideas. Lester Jibbets owns it. I guess making money on tiny poop houses wasn’t enough for him. Now he’s buying up the downtown area. Who knew there was so much money in portable toilets?”
And now, I had permission to get back into the store and keep searching for clues. “I’ll be there. You know, I love the detail, and I think I might know some things about what happened to Mark.”
“Like what?” Birdie asked.
“I’m not totally sure, but I always say the best way to find something is to start cleaning. I wonder what I’ll find while cleaning up Maximum Muscle?” I answered. Belinda watched me for a moment but then went back to her dinner. Bunny slid me a look that I wouldn’t call friendly.
Birdie looked around the diner. “I should get back to work.” She rushed off to another table to take their order and relay the latest news.
Chapter 19
“Let me see if I can get this straight,” Leo said. “You’re telling me you have arranged to meet with Belinda Donaldson tonight in order to gather more clues in an investigation that your father is working very hard to complete. Why are you doing this?” Leo was not at all happy that I had planned this rendezvous with Belinda Donaldson on false pretenses.
“Maybe I’m just doing a good deed. After the death of her sister, it’s only right to be nice to her.”
“Uh-huh.” This was Leo’s polite way of telling me he did not believe a word coming out of my mouth.
“I just want to get one more look at the place. I might pick up on something that would lead me to the killer. No matter how many times I go there, I feel like I’ve missed something.”
“And you had this discussion in the middle of Birdie’s Diner?”
“Everybody knows they eat there every Saturday night. It just turned out that way.” Leo might not know all the facts, but he was an intelligent man. Yes, I was putting myself at risk, but with all my insane need for order in my life lately, this felt like a dirty plate left on the counter.
“I don’t know Betsy. Nobody knows who killed Mark or Bosco. Maybe you should just stay here at home where it’s safe.”
Tyler came down the stairs in his soc
k feet and went directly to the refrigerator. “You should know by now your wife has an insane desire to fix everything.” He slammed the refrigerator door shut and ran back up the stairs.
“Well, I guess I know now that Tyler is still angry with me,” I said.
Leo put his arm around my waist and pulled me closer. “He’ll get over it. The Fitzpatrick man you need to worry about now is me.”
I held up two fingers. “I promise. I can take care of myself.” As he pulled me closer, my elbow hit a plate of cookies on the counter, knocking them to the floor.
As Leo lowered his lips to mine, I pulled away. “Let me just get that.”
“Sure.”
“I guess I’m pretty excited about quitting the meter maid business and opening up a yarn shop,” Belinda said as she searched for the key.
“You know what you’re going to call it?”
Belinda fiddled with the key in the lock. “I was thinking about Belinda’s Balls. You know for balls of yarn, but Bunny seems to think that people would laugh at that.”
I stifled a giggle. “You know how people are today, picking up on every word. How about something like Belinda’s Basket of Joy?”
“Maybe. It seems a little long for me. I guess it will come to me.” As the key clicked in the lock, Belinda opened the door and flipped on the light.
When I entered Maximum Muscle, the store still smelled of the sickening sweet strawberry vitamin mix. Maybe Bunny had been right that building muscle should be organic, not chemical. The nighttime serenade of the frogs as they greeted the sunset was loud enough to be heard through the closed windows. After my intense Marie Kondo training, I was excited to think about putting in an organization system at the beginning of an endeavor. Mark had a well-kept store, but I noticed no one had taken out the trash and there was a distinct odor of decaying chicken coming from the tall white kitchen trash bag. It might have been left by Mark or it might have been left by Boyle when he was posted at the scene. Either way, it had to go.
My heart leapt through my chest when there was a slight tapping on the door. Leo pressed his face against the glass.
