Dixieland Dead

by Penny Burwell Ewing

  “Jolene?”

  “I’m here,” I said into the receiver. “Mama’s right. We should close the room.”

  “That’s going to be a financial hardship.”

  “More costly than another client dying?”

  Deena agreed and the matter was settled. Until the killer was behind bars, the facial room would remain Scarlett’s domain. The thought gave me a headache. Owning a haunted salon in the Deep South went against all the rules in the Good Book, and everybody knows you don’t break the rules written in red without incurring a little karma payback.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Stalker

  I spent the rest of the day puttering around the house under Diamond’s watchful gaze. Bradford returned in the late evening so she could leave to pick up her grandmother from the senior center. I handed him a glass of white sangria when he plopped down on the sofa.

  “How was your day?” he asked, sipping the wine.

  “Just peachy. Carla quit her job. She told Deena she and Frank have decided to relocate to another state. They both need a fresh start.”

  We sat in compatible silence for several minutes before Bradford collected my empty glass and went over to the bar. “The Moody’s had nothing to do with Scarlett’s murder. Carla was an unknowing participant, and her husband’s a blind fool.”

  “So who did?” I asked to his back.

  When he turned around, his face bore an amused smile. “Give it a break, Jolene. I have some news. You’re not going to have time to snoop.” He handed me my refilled glass. “The mayor’s father is opening his home for a black-tie fundraiser Friday night, and I’m working as undercover security. A lot of the names you mentioned from Scarlett’s report will be in attendance, and this will give us the chance to check them out.”

  “Us?” I brightened at the thought.

  “Can’t leave you alone with a price on your head, now can I?” He grinned. “You’re my date.”

  I sipped the wine. All thoughts of murder were immediately replaced with a new and, equally compelling thought—what to wear?

  The basic black sheath hanging in the back of my closet wouldn’t do. I’d worn it so many times, the material shone with wear. The red backless dress Kenny had bought me on a whim? Nope, it was a size five. What about the white silk—the newest of the oldest? Hopefully, the startling white hadn’t yellowed with age, but with the infamous southern humidity, the odds weren’t in my favor. I was still mentally digging through my closet when I heard Bradford’s voice. “Hey, where are you?”

  I looked over at him. “I have nothing to wear.”

  He shrugged. “Go shopping, but take Diamond with you. And be careful.”

  “Shopping. I never would’ve thought of that,” I said, leaving all traces of sarcasm out of my voice, although I was already listing boutiques in my mind. And maybe even the big department store out at the new mall. With working part-time, a shopping trip would be possible tomorrow afternoon.

  The prospect of hobnobbing with the upper echelon had landed me in a good mood, and it must’ve shown on my face because Bradford smiled back at me. “Lovely. You should smile more often.”

  Flattered by the unexpected compliment from this handsome, dynamic man, and excited about the upcoming weekend, I decided now was a good time to confess my latest infraction. I gave him another dazzling smile and said, “I have some news of my own.”

  “Oh, yeah? Good news, I hope.”

  “Well…”

  “What’d you do?”

  “Daddy called. I told him everything.”

  He chuckled. “I’m aware of your misdeed, Jolene. Your father called me—”

  “What? How’d he get your number?”

  “Your mother.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “Lose the frown. We had a long chat, and I assured him you were safe in my care, but please refrain from telling anyone else.”

  Happy that I’d escaped a serious lecture, I started up from the sofa. “I’m starving. I’d better see about supper.”

  “I’ll order a pizza,” he said. “You should be resting, not laboring over a hot stove.”

  The pizza arrived, and we devoured the whole thing. Afterward, Bradford settled in front of the TV, and I went to take a shower, still riding a wave of happiness toward the sandy shore. True, all this coziness was just a lie, but his being here felt so good, so right. Even with the probability that I would wipeout at the end of this charade with a mouthful of gritty sand.

  ****

  Tango peeked out from underneath my bed when I closed the bedroom door behind me. After several minutes of coaxing him onto the bed, I stepped into the bathroom, undressed, and eased under the hot spray, sighing with pleasure.

  That’s when Scarlett ambushed me.

  “I need to talk to you,” she announced in a light, festive tone.

  “Damn it,” I squealed, opening my eyes which brought a string of curses as the shampoo burned my eyeballs. Groping for a washcloth to wipe the soap from my stinging eyes, all the while trying to twist my body away from her view, I ordered her out of the bathroom.

  “Not until we talk,” she said over my shoulder. “Here, take this.”

  “Geez, Scarlett, you scared ten years off my life.” I grabbed the washcloth. “Knock next time. And would you please stop invading my privacy?”

  “Hurry up,” she said, and left me to finish bathing in private.

  I finished my shower in record time. Draping a towel around myself, I stepped out of the shower to see Scarlett perched on the toilet seat, bone dry and dressed for afternoon tea.

  “Kind of late for a chat, isn’t it?” I motioned for her to turn her head so I could dry off and dress. She rolled her eyes but did as I requested. I pulled a blue silk short nightie over my head. “Why are you here? I’m really tired.”

  “Yeah, and I know why. That hunky detective is sucking up all your attention when you should be working on my case.”

  An abrupt banging on my bedroom door startled me. “Jolene, are you okay? I thought I heard a noise in your room.”

  Scarlett faded away.

  Padding to the bedroom door, I opened it to Bradford’s concerned countenance. “What’s going on?” His eyes swept over my dishabille.

  In my hastiness, I’d forgotten to slip on a robe. Standing against the lamplight, I realized the thin nightie only amplified my ample curves. His breathing quickened. He tensed.

  I froze as he continued to stare at me with indecision. Would he kiss me? I hoped so—this time I’d remembered to brush my teeth. The impulse to reach out and touch him became a tangible urge I couldn’t ignore, and I watched my hands move as if on their own accord across the expanse of his chest. Almost as if it pained him to do so, he gathered me into his arms and we stood there locked in a tight embrace.

  For a long moment, I floated on a warm sea of longing. His electric touch sent my nerves tingling as his hands roamed over my back and hips, pulling me closer until I pressed against his erection. Liquid warmth spread through my body.

  “This is a bad idea,” he said, starting to back away.

  “Not my first, and probably not my last,” I said, reaching up to bring his lips down to touch mine. He opened his mouth to accept my probing tongue. For one heart-stopping moment, I savored the feel of his unrestrained response before he tore his mouth from mine.

  He dropped his hands and backed away. “That must never happen again. We can’t afford to lose our focus. It could cost us our lives.”

  I heard his words, and I could see he was shaken also. My knees were trembling and I must’ve stumbled because he swept me, weightless, into his arms and carried me into the bedroom. Tango hissed and sprang from the bed as Bradford pushed the covers down and gently eased me onto the bed.

  “You need your rest,” he said, tucking the covers around me.

  “I don’t believe I’ll be able to rest now, Bradford. I’m wound tighter than a rubber band.”

  “Per
haps if I rubbed your shoulders for a minute,” he suggested.

  “Bad idea. I’d shoot off like a rocket.”

  He smiled at my attempt to lessen the tension. “I’m sorry, but I lost my head when I saw you in that nightie.”

  “It’s not your fault. I started it.” I hiccupped and let loose a giggle. “I think the wine has gone to my head.”

  “Yes, the wine has altered both of our good judgments. Perhaps I should take a look around outside before I secure the house for the night. I’ll be on the couch in the living room if you need me,” he said, and swiftly left the room.

  Restless and edgy after the awkward encounter, I grabbed the romance novel I’d been reading out of my nightstand. Several pages later, I slammed the book shut, exasperated that the section was filled with a sensual sex scene that only fired up my imagination and had my insides quivering with suppressed passion. I turned off the lamp and settled down into the bed for what I knew would be a dream-filled night.

  ****

  The next morning, I awoke to the smell of frying bacon and freshly-brewed coffee. I remembered to slip on my robe before padding down the hall and into the kitchen.

  Bradford, dressed in his usual jeans and cowboy shirt, was lifting crisp slices of bacon from the skillet and placing them on a paper towel-lined plate. Tango watched from his perch on the refrigerator.

  He nodded when I walked in. “Good morning. I trust you slept well.”

  I smothered a yawn. “Not really. Too much on my mind.” I glanced at the food. “You didn’t have to cook breakfast, you know. I usually have a bowl of cereal.”

  “I was up anyway,” he said, setting a platter of bacon on the table. “Besides, I like to cook.” He resumed his position at the stove, emptying a bowl of eggs into the hot skillet.

  I poured two mugs of coffee and set them on the table. “From the chipper sound of your voice, I assume we had no nighttime visitors?”

  “All was quiet. Your blue sedan failed to show.”

  We ate breakfast in silence, avoiding any mention of last night’s encounter. Bradford cleaned the kitchen, while I took a quick shower and dressed in a cool cotton dress and matching lilac heels.

  Bradford tailgated my car all the way to the salon and pulled into the back lot. Diamond waited next to her Chevy Volt.

  Speaking briefly with Diamond, he then cautioned me to stay alert and warned me against making snap judgments. “If trouble walks in the door, let Diamond handle it,” he added.

  “Detective Bradford is a fine man. He’s great husband material,” Diamond said as he drove off and we entered the back entrance.

  Choosing to ignore the obvious, I introduced her to the staff and started my day. I had just placed my client under the dryer when Nancy Chance tapped me on the shoulder.

  “Got a minute?”

  I glanced at my watch. “Maybe five. Diamond is prepping my next client for her perm. What’s up?”

  “Who’s Diamond?” Nancy asked on our way to the kitchen where we could speak in private.

  I preceded her into the kitchen. “She’s my new assistant.” I motioned for her to take a seat. “Sam Bradford brought us together. He figured I might need an extra hand after my car accident.” Her expression said she’d heard the rumors.

  “Talk around town about y’all is fascinating,” she said, faint amusement evident in her voice. “The grapevine is on fire with detailed speculations about your romance.”

  “You didn’t come here to poke the embers, Nancy. I know you better than that, and I don’t have time to chew the fat.”

  She smiled. “Then I’ll get down to the reason I’m here. I need your help. Your sisters too.”

  “Whatever it is, we’ll do our best.”

  “Good. We’re including tours of Pineridge Plantation for the Pecan Festival this year. I’m seeking volunteers.” She handed me a small booklet. “Here’s the history of the place. There’s even a story about ghost soldiers searching for lost Confederate gold. Y’all will look fabulous in antebellum gowns.”

  I had to agree with her there. Mama had made sure of that. She had worked overtime to cover the cost of piano lessons, dance lessons, and tea parties. Deena sucked up etiquette like dirt in summertime rain. Unfortunately, apart from looking the part, Billie Jo and I had turned out to be clay pigeons.

  “Scarlett would’ve been the perfect docent.” I pictured her strolling down the portico decked out in antebellum finery. “She belonged to the time.”

  Nancy gave a quick nod. “She would’ve had the tourists eating out of her hands with that refined southern accent and southern belle attitude. She was the real deal. I miss her sassy quips.”

  “I didn’t know you two were friends.”

  “My husband Roger and I were good friends with her parents. After they died, we tried to stay in touch with her, but she avoided us. I had hoped she’d carry through with her plans to marry Delany Tyler, but she turned her back on him, too. Our relationship really never recovered. I ran into her about a week before she died. She acted strange…even for her.”

  “Define strange.”

  Her glance was speculative. “Paranoid? She kept glancing over her shoulder. When I questioned her about it, she apologized and said she was just in a hurry to chase down a source in Macon—at Magnolia Manor, that private mental institution. That’s the last time I saw her alive.”

  I whistled. “That joint is only for the wealthiest of the wealthy. I wonder who her source was and what kind of story would take her there.”

  “I don’t know, but she alluded to the mayor needing to take off his rose colored glasses and see the facts as they really are. I tried to question her, but she waved me off.”

  Okay, what was I missing here? Something tickled my memory—something I should remember. Could the source in Macon possibly be the man who supposedly wrote the vote-rigging software—a prototype paid for by a faceless person here in Whiskey Creek? Had Scarlett met with him? If so, where was the proof of her findings—on the missing flash drive? Possibly. No, probably. What if he was the one who’d killed her? And then again, what if I was wrong? Somehow, I had to find the last remaining pieces of this complex puzzle. But I had to hurry before the noose dropped over my neck and the killer kicked the horse out from underneath me.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Diamond is a Girl’s Best Friend

  True to her word, Diamond turned out to be a treasure, and it was apparent to the clients and staff that she was an excellent addition to the salon. Her steady presence and warm smile charmed everyone who came in contact with her. Perhaps, when this ordeal was over, I could lure her away from the police department.

  By two, we’d finished my appointments for the day and headed straight for the new mall on the outskirts of town. Unfortunately, Scarlett popped in just as I looked in my rear view mirror and spotted a parking spot open up close to the side entrance. Her sudden appearance startled me, and I accidentally stepped on the gas, cutting off another driver who’d made a mad dash for the same spot. I slid my Mustang into the parking space, ignoring the offensive hand gestures from my disappointed opponent.

  “I broke a nail on the dashboard,” Diamond said. “Be glad I’m not in uniform. Otherwise I’d have to give you a ticket.”

  Scarlett materialized at my driver’s side door, beautifully attired in a cropped blue dress with the sides charmingly gathered to the back. On her burnished curls perched dashingly over to one side, was a darling blue flat hat with a veil.

  “Do you think I can find good quality green ribbons for my new straw bonnet I plan to wear to my trial?” She quirked a smile. “I thought we might run into that little shop around the corner from the soap store. You know the one I’m talking about, don’t you?”

  I wanted to ask her how a ghost could use ribbons from the material world, but I felt certain Diamond wouldn’t understand me talking into thin air. I’d come to respect her and wanted her to like me in return, so I ignored Scarlett.

&
nbsp; “My foot slipped on the gas pedal,” I explained. “I’m sorry about your fingernail. Mandy can fix it.”

  “There’s no harm done,” she said with a candid smile. “Just warn me the next time. Or perhaps, to be on the safe side, I should drive.”

  “Oh, so it’s the silent treatment for me, is it?” Scarlett scowled. “You know being dead isn’t easy. Do you hear me, Jolene?”

  I heard the question but didn’t answer. Instead I pushed open the car door which effectively passed through her ghostly form, bringing a screech of indignation. “Ghost abuse! Ghost abuse! This will go into your file for future retribution.”

  “I’m sure my file is bursting at the seams.”

  Diamond came around to my side of the car. “Were you talking to me?”

  “No, just making an observation. Let’s go shopping.”

  Diamond held onto my arm before I could move away from the car. “Give me just a second.” Her eagle-sharp gaze surveyed our surroundings, her hand resting on the butt of the gun barely visible on her side. “Okay, all clear. Tell me immediately if you see anything suspicious or out of the ordinary. Stay close and duck if you hear me shout.”

  Uncertainty descended over me and I hesitated. Would a sniper take a pot shot at me here at the department store? What about innocent bystanders? Some of my earlier excitement faded as I noticed the dozens of nearby cars—they were the perfect hiding places for an assassin.

  Diamond gave the all-clear, and a blast of cool, scented air swept over me as we entered the store and walked to the escalator leading to the dress department on the second floor. After ten minutes of fruitless searching, I enlisted the aid of a young, smartly dressed sales woman who introduced herself as Joye, promising I’d be the best-dressed woman Friday night. She selected several long formal gowns, then ushered me toward the dressing room. When I protested her selections, she urged me to trust her.