Killer Kale Chips

by Patrice Lyle

  Tex started to say something, but I had to shush him. Callie's comment confirmed what I'd suspected. She was in love with Ken. That had to be who she was talking about. And those feelings gave her a very good motive to kill Veronica because of the upcoming wedding.

  "Close your eyes," Aunt Alfa said and watched Callie closely. Once the girl's eyes were shut, she tapped the screen of her smartphone. "Will the man Coolie—"

  Callie opened one eye. "Does it matter than you're mispronouncing my name? I go by Callie, not Coolie."

  Aunt Alfa looked perturbed. "My spirit guide understands how I talk. Now close your eyes so I can make contact."

  Callie promptly shut her eyes. A moment passed before Aunt Alfa glanced at her lap and scrolled on her phone. I prepared to cringe for whatever Mystic Ming had to say to Callie. The poor girl was—hey, wait a second. I sat up out of Tex's embrace as an idea hit me.

  Quick as I could, I texted Aunt Alfa. Ask Ming if Callie killed Veronica for the man she loves. I hit send, and a moment later, Aunt Alfa squinted at her phone. Then she looked my way and winked.

  Yes!

  Tex leaned closer. "What's going on?"

  "Ssshhh." Then I whispered, "I'll tell you later."

  He nodded. How lucky was I to have a man who agreed to almost everything I asked? Well, except for me interrogating potential murder suspects alone.

  Aunt Alfa lifted her hands. "I ask my spirit guide about the man Coolie loves. Will he ever love her back?"

  Callie squeezed her eyes shut hard, and her breathing became shallow. My heart went out to her for loving someone who didn't love her back. That had to be hard.

  A moment later, Aunt Alfa announced, "You better put your chin up, Coolie. Man you love not ever going to love you. Never."

  Callie gasped. "No, please ask again."

  "He doesn't like to be asked the same thing twice," Aunt Alfa said, closing her eyes. "Did Coolie kill Veronica Forks for the man who'll never love her?"

  "What?" Callie's chair screeched back, and she jumped up. "This is my reading, and I didn't authorize you to ask that. Besides, why would I ask a question that I already know the answer to?"

  Tex looked at me and raised his eyebrows. I returned the look. Callie's comment could mean one of two things.

  Callie was either innocent.

  Or she was the killer.

  * * *

  A short while later, Aunt Alfa decided she was sick of whiny clients, so we took off. We found a quaint outdoor café to enjoy a cup of tea on the way to another bridal shop. The break was just what I needed. Plus, I wanted to run through the dizzying array of suspects and clues that we'd uncovered today.

  "It's hard to know where to start." I sipped my green tea with stevia and cashew milk. Yum. Green tea gave me a lift, yet kept me grounded. "Veronica wasn't well-liked, to put it nicely, and several people have a motive to want her dead."

  Tex took a small sip of his green tea and tried to look like he was enjoying it. I loved him for trying my favorite beverage. "Callie had motive for sure, if we can prove she's in love with Ken."

  "I could totally tell by her expression that she's smitten with him." But that wasn't solid evidence, which is what the PI flash cards said was critically important. I turned my gaze toward my auntie. "Does Ming know anything?"

  "He texted, but it wasn't helpful. Let me read what he sent," Aunt Alfa said as she queued up her phone. "Ming don't know who whack Fork woman. I ask Fork woman, but she don't know either. You tell Doctor Piper to be PI and solve murder. That what good PI do."

  I rolled my eyes. "That's the last time I'm asking him anything."

  My phone promptly dinged, but I refused to give Mystic Ming the satisfaction of reading another one of his undoubtedly obnoxious responses.

  Aunt Alfa elbowed me. "Aren't you going to see what Ming wants?"

  "Nope. I'm going to follow his guidance and solve the murder." I shot her a half-smile. "That's what PIs do."

  Aunt Alfa laughed. "As long as we stay out of the slammer, I really don't care if Veronica's murder is solved."

  Tex furrowed his brow. "What about Ken's Killer Kale Chips?"

  Brownie lifted his head from the chair and let out a super screechy wwwweeee! Then he sniffed the air before lowering his snout.

  I glanced at my poor piglet. "It's a good thing he has a few extra pounds to sustain him during this famine."

  "Famine?" Aunt Alfa looked shocked. "I think he's purposely on a hunger strike. Maybe he's an activist, and we didn't know it?"

  Tex chuckled. "He's a smart little guy. Has us all going."

  I offered Brownie a few of the ranch-flavored kale chips that Tex had purchased, but Brownie turned them down. He seemed to have his mind set on Ken's Killer Kale Chips. Then I offered him the blueberry muffin I'd ordered him, and thankfully, he took a bite.

  But then spit it out.

  Wwwweeee!

  This was killing me. "What are we going to do?"

  Tex was going to respond when a taxicab screeched to a halt beside the café. The window lowered, and a young guy in a turban leered at us.

  "Hey! You're the granny with the whipped cream on the video!"

  Aunt Alfa rose and shook her fist. "You got that right. I'd run over there right now and cream your ride, but I know you'd peel out. You wuss."

  The cab driver flipped us off and burned rubber. The fumes of hot tires filled the air, and several patrons looked our way while whispering amongst themselves.

  "What a coward." Aunt Alfa sat down and picked up her green tea. "I ought to find that cabbie that started all the trouble and ream him out."

  Not wanting to incite her, I changed the subject.

  "Pastor Devon is a definite suspect." I quickly relayed the intel I'd uncovered to Aunt Alfa. Tex had already heard it all.

  She wiped her mouth with a napkin. "What a psycho. I'll look up his crusade blog tonight. Sounds like he's got a lot passion."

  "Along with a manic glint in his eyes." I shuddered.

  "I could also go undercover and book a chiropractic adjustment," Aunt Alfa offered. "See what I can find out."

  My chest tightened. "No way. That's too dangerous. Even if he's not a killer, I don't want you around him." The guy was a creep.

  "Why? I've never been the other woman," Aunt Alfa said. "I'm a hot nonagenarian, not a jezebel."

  Tex looked a little too happy to set his tea down. "Doc's right. If any of us go to see this whack job, it will be me because I could take him."

  The idea of Tex taking Pastor Devon down was pretty hot.

  I reached for my ice water and took a sip. "To recap, we need to look into Callie and Pastor Devon."

  Aunt Alfa added more honey to her tea. "I hate to say this, Pipe, but we can't cross Ken off just yet."

  I shook my head. "He's a hippie dude."

  "Hippies can slay, Pipe. Look at Charles Manson."

  "I reckon Aunt Alfa makes a good point, Doc."

  "I don't know. Manson may have been a hippie, but he wasn't a hippie surfer. There's a difference."

  "We're keeping him on the suspect list, Pipe. It's only safe."

  I agreed and added, "Let's also not forget Willow, whose husband left her for Veronica. That's a huge motive."

  "Ruby should be looked at too," Aunt Alfa said. "Pipe saw her running out the back door, and Veronica made fun of her."

  "This case has too many suspects," I said. They were distracting me from my main reason for existence right now.

  Finding a wedding dress.

  After we finished our tea—well, after Aunt Alfa and I finished our tea—the four of us headed for a bridal shop that advertised affordable wedding gowns. That sounded promising. All I wanted was a beautiful gown that wasn't crazily expensive.

  We reached the Fantasy Bridal Boutique, and Tex prepared to wait outside with Brownie. He set our piglet down and offered him another muffin, which Brownie ripped to shreds but refused to eat.

  Aunt Alfa shot me her best pout
. "Can't Brownie come inside? It would lift his spirits. Plus, we need his input. He's going to be the ring bearer, after all."

  I sighed. "We've been over this. You know he can't handle tulle."

  "Fine." Aunt Alfa tugged open the door and gestured me inside. "But I think you're making a big mistake."

  "The mistake would be letting Brownie in the shop." I kissed Tex good-bye and went inside.

  The dresses were definitely cheaper than the Princess dress shop. Way cheaper. A glance around showed a plethora of thin, chintzy lace and bling that looked like it had been applied with a glue gun.

  Except for one dress.

  A mannequin about my size displayed a long-sleeved gown with a crystal-beaded bodice. The fabric was dense and formed a perfect train that wasn't too long or too short. I could totally imagine becoming Mrs. Tattoo Tex in a dress like that.

  I was about to point the gown out to Aunt Alfa when a matronly redheaded woman in a pale blue dress ambled over.

  "Welcome to Fantasy Bridal Boutique. I'm Arielle, the owner of this bridal salon." She shook both of our hands and shot us a quizzical look. "Who's the bride?"

  Aunt Alfa pointed at me. "My great-niece."

  "Congratulations." Arielle smiled and fanned her arms out. "Does any gown seem to call you?"

  I nodded and gestured toward the gown I'd spotted. My chest tightened at the thought of how much it cost, though. "That's the most gorgeous gown I've seen." Did I want to know the price?

  Arielle must have noticed my panic. "Ah, you like that one. It's a beauty, isn't it? If you don't mind a bit of history coming with the gown, then I can give you a good price."

  "What kind of history?" Were these gowns used?

  Arielle hesitated. "History in the sense that someone has worn it before. Does that bother you?"

  I paused because I wasn't sure. "I hadn't considered purchasing a used gown." I turned to Aunt Alfa. "What do you think?"

  My auntie pursed her lips. "I guess it depends on how long the marriage lasted. That dress looks pretty new, so I'm thinking the couple couldn't have had too many years of marital bliss."

  Arielle swished over to the dress and lifted the bodice. The bling sparkled in the overhead lights. "Marriages may not last, but bling certainly does."

  What kind of a slogan was that? An odd feeling swirled in my stomach. Then I looked at the dreamy dress again. It was beautiful, and judging on the prices at the Princess salon, I'd bet it cost more than a brand new Jag.

  "In an effort to provide full disclosure," Arielle said, "this was my daughter-in-law's wedding gown. I bought it overseas for her. It's a designer label, Queen Bathsheba. The brand-new retail price in the US is sixty-five thousand dollars."

  Aunt Alfa's jaw dropped. "Here we go again with dresses that cost more than a bunch of homes."

  "But the marriage didn't last past the honeymoon," Arielle said as her eyes darkened. "So I think the dress is cursed."

  Cursed? I stepped back.

  Arielle lifted the gown off the rack and handed it to me. "See the little crown emblem on the label? That shows you it's a real Queen Bathsheba."

  I didn't take the dress but peered at the label. A tiny gold crown with the letters Q and B on either side of it glittered from inside the gown. Correction, the cursed gown.

  Arielle handed it to me again. "I'll sell it to you for two thousand dollars."

  "That's a steal, Pipe. Try it on."

  I shook my head. "It's cursed, Aunt Alfa." No way did I want to marry Tex in a gown with bad juju.

  Aunt Alfa looked at the dress. "What happened on the honeymoon? Was he a jerk?"

  Arielle shut her eyes for a moment, as if reliving the painful memories. "It wasn't my son's fault. He loved her so. They went on a cruise, and she refused to consummate the marriage with him." She offered me the dress again.

  I took another step back.

  "Why didn't she want to sleep with her husband?" Aunt Alfa asked. "Does your son have a big gut?"

  Arielle's face tightened. "That stupid tramp fell in love with an Elvis Impersonator on the ship and consummated the relationship with him instead. She and Elvis got married in Vegas once the divorce from my son was processed."

  No way was I having anything to do with this dress.

  "Thanks for the offer," I said. "It's a great deal but—"

  "You!" A man's voice yelled from the back of the room. "How dare you enter my family's store?"

  I turned to see who had interrupted us. Holy chocolate babka! It was the cabbie with the Ronald McDonald hairdo. He stormed toward us with murder in his eyes.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Tulle Terror

  I grabbed Aunt Alfa's arm. "Let's get out of here."

  Apparently my auntie had other plans, however. Quick as ever, she twisted her fanny pack around until the clasp was in the middle of her waist. She unclicked her fanny pack, wrenched her arm back, and prepared for battle.

  "Take one more step toward us, and you'll be sorry." Aunt Alfa's voice was stronger than her favorite hurricane-force-winds-protection hairspray.

  "Mother, that's the old bat who ridiculed me and creamed our taxicab." The cabbie's jaw clenched, and his cheek twitched.

  Arielle shot us a death look. "You've brought my son shame on the Internet. He's embarrassed to be seen on the streets of New York."

  "Yeah, well, we couldn't get a cab last night, so I think we're even." There wasn't a shred of apology in Aunt Alfa's tone.

  I glanced at the window. Tex's back was to me as he indulged in a little NYC people-watching. I silently urged him to turn around.

  "I think we'll be leaving," I said calmly.

  "What about the dress?" Arielle barked. "It's the least you could do to help us after causing the taxicab mess and insulting my son."

  "Pipe's not wearing a cursed dress, Aroola. Got it?" Then she looked at Arielle's son and delivered a deathblow comment. "I don't blame your wife for picking Elvis over you. She was smart."

  The cabbie lunged at Aunt Alfa, but she ducked and avoided him. I screamed for Tex, who whirled around and peered into the store.

  "Help, Tex!" I shrieked. "This guy's going crazy in here!"

  Aunt Alfa taunted the cabbie. "Over here, you dumb wuss. You think you're embarrassed now? Wait 'til I mop the floor with you."

  He took a swing at her, and she countered with a blow to his groin with her fanny pack. Whack!

  He doubled over in pain, screaming curse words.

  Arielle tossed the dress in the middle of the room as she shrieked something unintelligible.

  Her face tightened when she grabbed a pair of scissors from behind the cash register. She turned and lunged toward me.

  My heart pounded. Then Tex burst onto the scene.

  My Texan knight in shining armor.

  Tex's face reddened as he pinned Arielle's arms to her side. "Ma'am. I've never hit a woman before, but if you touch my beloved fiancée, I'll be forced to take action." Then he turned to me. "Call the police, Doc."

  I dialed 9-1-1 and reported the attack.

  "I could have taken her," Aunt Alfa said as she surveyed the situation. "But thanks, Tex. You come in real handy."

  "Anytime, ma'am."

  I was stunned. Was Ming right about my dress shopping being a disaster? All I wanted to do was find the perfect dress to marry Tex in. Why did that have to be so hard?

  And then a crazed sound told me things were about to get worse.

  Wwwweeee!!!!

  Uh-oh. I whirled around. "Where's Brownie?"

  "Shucks, Doc. I brought him in with me to save you two."

  Thundering hooves sounded around the perimeter of the store, along with intermittent squeals of piglet delight.

  "The tulle!" I spun around and swooshed back a line of dresses hanging on a rack. No Brownie, however.

  Wwwweeee!

  The cabbie lifted his head. "Was that a pig?"

  Aunt Alfa narrowed her eyes and brandished her fanny pack, and the cabbie
quickly pressed his face against the carpet.

  "Yeah, you better zip it, or I'll whack you again where it apparently didn't count for your ex-wife," she said.

  Brownie shot past me in a daze of excitement. He stopped and sniffed a tulle train. I approached him, ready to nab him before he went ballistic. But he shot past me again with a wild-eyed look. He barreled toward the Queen Bathsheba dress that lay unprotected in a heap on the floor.

  "No, Brownie!"

  But he wouldn't listen. He pounced on the dress, his little snout sniffing the tulle like a drug dog locating a stash. Wwwweeee! He chomped on the tulle and shredded it faster than any crosscut paper shredder on the market.

  Bits of tulle flew in the air and peppered the floor.

  "Brownie Meadows! Stop that." I tried to wrench the dress out of Brownie's snout, but he wouldn't relent.

  The tulle was piling up faster than snowflakes during a blizzard.

  "Police!" Someone yelled as two policemen entered the bridal shop. One of them looked around and scrunched up his face.

  "What the heck happened here?" he asked.

  Wwwweeee! Brownie shook the designer gown like a chew toy.

  Everyone started talking at once. The cabbie struggled to his feet with one eye on Aunt Alfa, and Tex released Arielle. I finally wrenched the dress from Brownie and got a hold of his leash. My little piglet was panting as if he'd just finished a marathon.

  Aunt Alfa crouched beside him. "Was that fun, Mr. B?"

  "Fun?" I would not classify my piglet's behavior that way. "He destroyed the Queen Bathsheba gown, and I'll probably have to pay for it."

  Tex was talking to one policeman, and Arielle and her son talked to the other policeman. Then the cabbie removed his cell phone to show the officer the video of Aunt Alfa creaming the cab.

  What a nightmare.

  My phone dinged, and I figured I might as well look.

  I tell you wedding dress shopping be a nightmare. You marry cowboy in tattered Queen Bathsheba now.

  I groaned because I had a feeling Ming was right.

  * * *

  An hour later, we walked out of the Fantasy Bridal Boutique twenty-one hundred dollars lighter. Two thousand on my charge card for the mauled dress—Tex had offered to pay, but I'd refused—and one hundred on Tex's charge card for the cab cleaning bill. Aunt Alfa said she'd pay Tex back with the earnings from Triple-A Psychic, but he'd refused, saying family stuck together.