by Jana DeLeon
Her face flushed red and she glared. “I asked you politely to leave. Now, I’m telling you. Get out of here or I’ll call the police.”
“That’s enough, Vanessa,” Walter said. “Last time I checked, this was my store.”
She whipped around to glare at Walter. “That’s Mrs. Fontleroy to you.”
“No, it’s not. That idiot Herbert divorced Mrs. Fontleroy. You are something else entirely. I’d go with Vanessa if I were you. It’s the politest name I have to offer.”
Her eyes widened and she sucked in a breath. “Wait until I talk to Herbert about this. Poor Celia mourning her daughter and you’re sitting here serving Pansy’s killer cake. It’s almost as if you’re celebrating.”
“If Carter knew who the killer was, he would arrest them,” Walter said.
She gave them a smug smile. “Oh, he’ll arrest her all right. I’m going to see to that.”
She whirled around and stalked out of the store, slamming the front door as she went.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I said. “There’s no use making trouble for yourself on my account.”
“Who said it was on your account? Hell, if I was interested in being bossed around by a woman, Ida Belle would be carting my manhood around in her purse.”
I grinned. Walter may be love-struck, but he still wasn’t a fool.
Scooter opened a side door and poked his head into the store. “Miss Morrow?”
“Please, call me Fortune.”
He gave me a shy smile. “I’ve got your Jeep ready to go.”
I glanced at my watch. “That was fast. I’m impressed.”
The tips of Scooter’s ears turned red and he looked down at the floor. “I’ll drive it around front for you. You can check out with Walter.”
“He’s handy with a tool set….” Walter looked at me and raised his eyebrows.
“Still not interested.”
He shrugged and added the charges to my store tab. “Never hurts to ask, although I’d already figured you for the picky sort.”
“Then I guess I’m destined to spend all my time in Sinful as a single girl.”
He rubbed his chin and studied me for a moment. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
“You just said I was picky.”
“Yep. But I figure there might be two men in Sinful who could handle a woman like you. One is myself, of course, but that would have been about thirty years ago. But my nephew—he’s just the sort of man you need.”
“Carter?” I shook my head. “Oh no. He’s way too rigid, and besides, it would probably look bad if he dated his murder suspects.”
Walter sighed. “Well, there is that. But boy it would be a sight—you two hooking up. I guarantee it would be the first time in that boy’s life he couldn’t make something go his way, but it sure would be fun watching him try.”
“I’m genuinely sorry to disappoint you.”
“Ha. You aren’t sorry in the least.” He rose from his stool and gestured at the front door. “Come on. I’ll escort you to your vehicle so the locals don’t accost you as you’re leaving.”
I hopped off my stool and headed to the front of the store, the conversation with Vanessa Fontleroy still rolling through my mind. As soon as I got in the Jeep, I would call Gertie and tell her I needed an emergency meeting. Pansy’s missing cell phone held the answers to everything.
And I was determined to find it.
Chapter Fourteen
I clenched my cell phone and looked across the table at Marie, Gertie, and Ida Belle. Marie looked anxious. Gertie looked excited. Ida Belle looked like she was prepared for battle. I figured my own expression was a mixture of the three. We’d all sneaked over to Marie’s house where we’d have a clear view of Celia’s.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked Ally, who was sitting in her car a block away. “I don’t want you to take the risk unless you’re absolutely sure.”
“You’ve already asked me a hundred times,” Ally said, “and my answer isn’t going to change, even if you ask a hundred more.”
“Okay, okay. I’m just a little nervous about this. Promise me that you won’t push the issue. If Celia won’t let you help with things or you can’t access Pansy’s room without getting caught, then don’t attempt it. We’ll figure out another way.”
“I promise,” she said, starting to sound a little exasperated.
“If you get a chance to go in the kitchen, try to see if anything is amiss. I mean…” I trailed off, not wanting to blurt out that she should look for bloodstains on the flooring.
“I understand,” she said, her voice grim.
“We’re ready over here. I’m going to put my phone on speaker and mute, so we’ll be able to hear you but no one can hear us. Remember to put the phone in your shirt pocket or we probably won’t be able to hear much.”
“Got it. The window in Pansy’s closet faces Marie’s house. I’ll signal when I’m in, so be watching.”
I took a deep breath and blew it out. “All right. You’re up.”
We all peeked out the window and watched as Ally pulled up the street and parked in front of Celia’s house. She reached into the backseat of her car for a casserole dish and headed up the sidewalk to Celia’s front door. She rang the doorbell and a couple of seconds later, the door flew open.
“What do you want?” Celia’s voice boomed over the cell phone.
“Hello, Aunt Celia,” Ally said. “I brought you a chicken casserole—your favorite. Today is my day off work so I came over to help.”
“My only child is dead. What can you do to help?”
“I’m so sorry, Aunt Celia. I know anything I do doesn’t amount to much, but as a Christian and my momma’s daughter, I can’t in good conscience sit in my house all day when I know you’re here suffering.”
For several seconds, the cell phone was silent and I was certain we were all holding our breath.
Finally, Celia sighed. “I know we don’t always agree on things, Ally, but your momma raised you right. God knows, you didn’t get any of your manners from my brother, God rest his soul. Come in, then.”
“Yes!” I yelled and gave Ida Belle a high five.
“She’s good,” Marie said.
Gertie nodded. “Playing the Christian card always works with Celia. She’s the worst hypocrite in Sinful but can’t stand the thought of being exposed as such.”
Ida Belle rolled her eyes. “Like it’s a secret.”
“Sssh,” I said. “They’re talking again.”
“I meant it when I said I don’t know what you can do,” Celia said. “Between the GWs and your casserole, I have enough to eat for a week.”
“I thought maybe I could do some housecleaning. Or perhaps help you pick out an outfit…I didn’t know if you’d be able, that is…”
“I started going through her luggage this morning, but I didn’t find anything suitable. I was going to look in her closet at some of the clothes she left behind when she moved. I thought maybe one of her old church dresses would be nice. Maybe something in pink.”
“She always loved the pink,” Ally said. “Do you want me to take a look? I could pick out what I think works and bring them down for you to see.”
“It’s nice of you to offer, but I’ve got no business sitting in this kitchen all day,” Celia said. “I’ll come with you. It will be nice to have another opinion, especially of a younger person.”
“That was nice of her,” I said, surprised that Celia might actually have a heart.
“Even though you’re not as adept at fashion as Pansy,” Celia continued, “I suppose you can still be of some use to me.”
“And she ruins it,” Ida Belle said.
The voices stopped for a bit, then we heard the muffled sound of feet plodding on a wooden staircase. In one motion, we all fled the front window and shifted to the side window with a view of Celia’s upstairs windows.
“The room at the back is Pansy’s,” Marie said. “She used to climb out
at night and shinny down the trellis.”
“Nice,” I said. “The big one is probably the bedroom, so the smaller one to the right must be the closet.”
The phone crackled with static, then Ally’s voice sounded again. “I can pull out all the pink dresses for you to see. Does she still have that pink rose necklace that you got her for graduation? I think it would be lovely for her to wear it.”
“I didn’t look through her jewelry case earlier,” Celia said. “I’ll do that now while you check for dresses.”
We all stared transfixed at the small square window. A second later, a hand appeared, giving us a thumbs-up.
“That’s our cue,” I said and motioned to Ida Belle and Gertie.
They grabbed their purses and headed for the rear of Marie’s house to go get Gertie’s car, which was parked a block over. A couple of minutes later, I checked my watch.
“Where the hell are they?” I asked.
Marie bit her lower lip. “Ida Belle probably should have gone for the car and picked Gertie up closer to the house. Gertie really needs to work out.”
I sighed, frustrated with myself for forgetting to work Gertie’s complete lack of physical fitness into my plan. “I guess we’ll have to hope Ally can drag out the pink dress search.”
“I’m sure she can,” Marie said. “Ally is smart and capable. A lot like you. It’s no wonder you’re friends.”
Given that Ally was currently embroiled in playing the spy, Marie’s comment was a lot closer to the truth than she even realized.
Finally, I saw Gertie’s Cadillac swing around the block. I felt my pulse tick up a notch as Gertie parked and they made their way to the front door.
“Keep your fingers crossed that this works,” I said. “If Celia doesn’t let them in, Ally may not have time to find the journal.”
Marie crossed her fingers on her left hand and used her right to lift a slat of the blinds. “Ida Belle’s talking,” she said finally. “Celia must have opened the door.”
I picked my cell phone up from the end table and held it closer to my ear, but all I could hear was the scratching and bumping of Ally moving things around.
“Are they still at the door?” I asked.
“Yes,” Marie said. “They’ve been talking a while. Celia should have invited them in by now.”
Crap!
“I found it!” Ally’s voice sounded on the phone.
I fumbled to turn off the Mute button as I saw Ida Belle and Gertie shove their baked goods at the front door. Clearly, Celia’s southern manners were not going to extend to friends of mine. It was a good thing no one but Carter had seen Ally and I hanging out, or she probably wouldn’t have gotten past the front door, either.
Now, the problem was getting her out.
“Hurry up,” I hissed. “Celia won’t let them in. They’re leaving.”
“I’m trying, but the board won’t go back down.”
“Stomp on it, then knock something off the top shelf to cover the sound. Just hurry!”
I heard a loud thump, then Ally came back on the line, her voice strained. “The leg of my jeans is wedged in between the two pieces of wood.”
“Well, yank it out!”
“What do you think I’m trying to do? It’s not budging. Oh, God, I hear Celia coming up the stairs. Do something!”
“Call Ida Belle!” I yelled at Marie.
She grabbed her cell and dialed Ida Belle, then shoved the phone at me.
“You have to go back,” I said. “Ally got the journal but her pants are stuck in the floorboard. Hurry!”
We watched out the window as Ida Belle spun around and broke into a run for the front door. Gertie’s jaw dropped as she stared.
“Ally,” I hissed into the cell phone. “Are you there?”
I stared up at the window, my pulse racing. What if Celia ignored the doorbell? What if she caught Ally red-handed with Pansy’s journal? If Celia thought the book would mar the image she had of her daughter, she’d never let it out of her house, even if it meant finding her daughter’s killer. After all, she was already convinced it was me, so from her point of view, she had nothing to lose.
I reached over to clutch Marie’s arm as I saw the closet window rise up. A second later, a small square object flew out of the window and landed on the lawn in between houses.
I pulled on Marie’s arm so hard, she almost fell over. “She threw the journal out the window! Call Gertie.”
Marie called Gertie and shoved the phone back at me again.
“Ally threw the journal out the window,” I told Gertie. “Run down the side of the house and get it and don’t let Celia see you.”
Gertie broke out in a run, much faster than I’d expected, especially as she was wearing a skirt and dress shoes and carrying that enormous purse of hers. As she approached the journal, she leaned to the side, still running, in an apparent attempt to scoop up the journal as a lineman would a fumble.
But for Gertie, it didn’t come off quite as smoothly as it did in the NFL.
When she reached down for the journal, her giant purse swung around her shoulder and conked her square in the back of the head, sending her face-first into the turf.
“Ouch!” I yelled as Marie winced.
Not to be deterred by the small matter of slamming into the lawn at full speed, Gertie rolled over the journal, scooping it up as she went, then stumbled to her feet and ambled toward Marie’s backyard, looking like a drunk running from the cops.
Marie hurried to the back door and let her inside. I jumped back to the front window in time to see Ida Belle stomping down the sidewalk, then stopping and looking around, probably wondering what the hell had happened to Gertie, since her Cadillac was still sitting empty at the curb.
“Ida Belle, the car—” I pointed to the front of the house as Marie came hurrying back into the living room, a bedraggled Gertie limping behind her.
Marie glanced out the window, then got behind Gertie, shoving her out the front door to intercept Ida Belle. I had to give Ida Belle credit. Despite the fact that Gertie was red-faced and limping, her dress was torn, and she was toting a huge piece of sod on her purse, Ida Belle didn’t even lift an eyebrow before hurrying to the car and jumping inside. She must have been hell as a spy.
I picked up the phone and held it to my ear, completely forgetting it was on speaker. Hopefully, Ida Belle’s repeat call on Celia had bought Ally enough time to get loose.
“Come on you son of a—ahhhhhh!”
A loud crash followed and I yanked the phone away from my head, my ears ringing from the volume. Marie’s hand flew over her mouth, and I fumbled for the Mute button before we gave the whole thing away.
“What in God’s name is going on in here?” Celia’s voice boomed.
“I didn’t notice that my shoelace got caught in between the floorboards. When I tried to leave my foot caught. I grabbed hold of the bar to steady myself, but all I succeeded in doing was bringing the whole thing down on top of me. But the good news is, I found the pink dress with the roses that Pansy always liked.”
“Because I’m a Christian,” Celia said, the aggravation clear in her voice, “I’ve got to assume that you mean well, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave now. I’ve been more stressed since you got here than I have been since I found Pansy on the kitchen floor. Between you and those two meddling women, any thoughts I had of a peaceful day are completely ruined.”
“I’m really sorry, Aunt Celia. If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.”
“You have fulfilled your familial duty. If you really want to help, then please stay out of my house. All you’ve accomplished is creating more work for me.”
“And finding the pink dress.”
I shook my head. How Ally could sound cheerful with Celia being so rude was beyond me, but then Ally probably had years of practice. I heard the sound of muffled footsteps on the staircase again and a couple of seconds later, Ally stepped out of Celia’s house.
“Yes, yes, just go.” The door slammed shut.
Ally shook her head, then hurried down the sidewalk to her car. She’d barely pulled away from the curb before she popped back on the phone.
“Please tell me you got the journal,” she said.
“Gertie got it.”
“Thank God! What a mess. I would make a horrible spy.”
I smiled. “Oh, I don’t know. You thought quick enough to toss the journal out the window, and you can fabricate a plausible story on the spot. That bit about the shoelace was genius.”
“Not really. That actually happened to me when I was in high school. I bet anything Aunt Celia remembers it too, as my mom was as aggrieved then as Aunt Celia is now.”
I laughed. “That makes the story even more genius, not less.”
“I like ‘genius.’ I’ll go with it,” she said and giggled.
“Did you go into the kitchen?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t see anything odd. She’s still got the same old linoleum floor, though, so not like there is grout or hardwood that would show staining or anything. Sorry I can’t be more help on that one.”
“No apologizing. Today’s success is all because of you. I don’t suppose you saw any sign of Pansy’s cell phone?”
“I didn’t get a chance to go through drawers or anything, but I’m sure the police already did that. I didn’t come across it in the closet.”
“Hmmm. I’ll have to do some more thinking on that one then.”
“I don’t suppose I can risk coming to your house to read the journal with you.”
“No, that probably wouldn’t be a good idea, but I promise I’ll call you as soon as we figure anything out.”
“Sounds good. Well, before my blood pressure gives me a heart attack, I’m going to go home for a hot shower and a stiff drink. And it’s not even noon. Jeez.”
It took me a second to process her words and realize just how far out of the realm of normal this had been for Ally. It made me feel important and guilty at the same time. “I really appreciate what you did, Ally.”
