The Sassy Belles

by Beth Albright

  I reached for her shoulder and brushed her tears from her cheek. “Vivi,” I said, “you are good. A bit from the fruit and nuts department of the store but still good, and everyone knows it. This whole town knows it and some of them know you inside and out. It will be okay. There’s nothing the two of us have ever faced that we didn’t conquer. We climb mountains together. We have since the fourth grade.”

  Vivi broke my serious monologue with a huge burst of laughter. “Oh, my God! Sister Pauline! I’d almost forgot about that.” Now her sad tears mixed with laughing tears and she couldn’t decide whether to start laughing or keep crying. But it was a release, which she definitely needed, so I just let her do both. It was a tremendous release for both of us.

  * * *

  I pulled right in behind Harry as we arrived at Denny Chimes, the beautiful old bell tower right front and center of the University of Alabama’s campus quad. When the bells ring, the harmony gives the campus a sound all its own. The bells chime every fifteen minutes, so I knew this would need to be a quick conference in between the musical melodies. The car rolled to a quiet stop. I looked over at Vivi. She had pulled herself together. I, however, didn’t feel quite so settled. My heart was thumping so hard and quick you could see my chest jumping under my blouse. I couldn’t decide which was scarier, the thought of being live on TV talking about my missing brother-in-law, or facing Harry and telling him I’d be the one doing the talking.

  “Honey, you can let go of the wheel now, we’re here,” Vivi said with her eyebrows up.

  “Oh, I didn’t realize.” I glanced down at my white knuckles glued to the wheel and tried to let go, but I needed to hold something, squeeze something, and the wheel was what was in front of me.

  Harry got out of his car looking nervous but confident as he made his way over to me. I knew that walk. It was part of his game face. I kept thinking, I have to tell him. As he walked toward me I ran through the words in my head.

  “Harry,” I practiced, “I think I should be the one speaking to the press.” No, that wasn’t forceful enough. He’d run me over like a bulldozer. “Harry, I’m going to do all the talking.” But then he’d say, “What else is new?” and laugh it off. I just couldn’t find the right words. For once I was speechless. That had to be a first.

  “Blake,” Harry interrupted my private drama. “Didn’t you hear me, honey?”

  “No, sorry. Just thinking,” I said.

  “Well, we’re here. Let go of the wheel.”

  “I was just thinking,” I continued, “you know, about Vivi and this conference. I, uh…”

  “Yes,” Harry interrupted again. “Let’s talk about this for a minute.”

  He helped me out of the car. Even in my heels, he was nearly a foot taller. At five-four in my best daytime pumps, Harry always towered over me. I knew he would be a much more commanding presence on camera than I would. I began doubting Sonny’s idea. Camera time is so important to a man with his aspirations and obviously it would be very appealing to him. A good lawyer and future politician lived for that kind of thing, so I knew Harry would really want this moment. Plus, the missing guy was his brother! Who better to talk to the press than a direct family member? Yes, Blake, I said to myself, the missing guy is his brother and that’s exactly why he can’t do it! Because he’s not just the victim’s brother—he’s Vivi’s lawyer. That would be sending mixed signals, not taking a clear stand. For a politician, that is not a good career move! You can’t be seen as the wavering type, Harry. How would that look to the people? Yes! That’s it! That’s what I would tell him.

  “Blake.” Harry grabbed my shoulders. “What’s the matter with you today? Listen, I really need you to get it together. I think you should be the one to talk to the media.”

  Hang on. What did he just say? You’ll have to wait on my response, Harry. I’m busy swallowing my tongue.

  “Oh, honey, are you sure?” I said, batting my eyelashes and looking all concerned. I needed an Oscar. I couldn’t believe how easily this had played out. I didn’t even need to say a word.

  “You’re a great speaker, Blake. I’m not feeling quite up to it at the moment. I’ll be glad to take over if you need it, but I have a feeling you won’t need it today.”

  “Are you sure?” I pressed, thanking God and all His angels.

  “Yeah, you take care of it.”

  I reached back through the open window of the car and gave Vivi’s hand a squeeze. I felt in that single second the world was mine. I knew I could make it so that by the time I was through, Vivi and Lewis would look like the Pope and Mother Teresa. Well, maybe that was taking it too far. At least I could try to help them not look like two horny idiots screwing each other to death….

  Okay, I thought, time to get the pumps on the concrete. Put the “I mean business” red lipstick on, get behind the mic and take care of Vivi. I winked at her and we walked toward the Chimes. Looking over at Harry, I realized that Dan must’ve had something to do with this. Harry wasn’t just being nice to me. And he wasn’t stepping down because of his feelings about Lewis, either. No, this was all motivated by his perfect little campaign. There was always his image to consider, above all else. Harry was distancing himself from the media today all because of Vivi. I was sure Dan convinced him to stay away from the microphone. None of this would be good for the campaign. Harry speaking for Vivi as attorney or even friend would not help the business of the fall election—she was a loudmouthed, frizzy-haired, wild one who may or may not be involved in a crime. He couldn’t avoid being seen with her on camera, but Dan would definitely have advised against him speaking for her. I was a little disappointed when I realized Harry backing away from the mic was really for himself and not because he really believed in me.

  But it was no surprise that Dan was involved. Dan and Harry go way back. In college, Harry was always running for something—fraternity president, student senate, student body president. His ambition and perfection were major attractions for me. I just loved those power suits and the yummy man inside them. I loved his desire and determination, his goals and his drive. Plus, he was deliciously gorgeous.

  When Harry was running for student body president during our senior year, Dan was his campaign manager. The opponent was a sleaze and stupid on top of that but another gorgeous frat boy just the same. As part of his campaign, Billy Cane handed out rocks. Yes, I said rocks. He sent some fool pledge down to the river to gather hundreds of rocks, about the size of your hand, and painted on them, Vote for Billy Cane, solid as a rock. He handed them out all over campus. Not to be outdone, Dan came up with a campaign strategy for Harry, too. They found as many of those Billy Cane rocks as possible, then, working alongside the pledges, sorority sisters and fraternity brothers alike, we had reworded the slogan to read, Vote for Billy Cane, DUMB as a rock. It wasn’t very nice, but it sure was effective. Billy was a laughingstock, and Harry was voted president. Even today, Dan was at Harry’s side for all his campaign needs—and I had a feeling his “approach” hadn’t changed a bit.

  Harry and I stood at the back of the press area for a minute and hashed out our strategy. We were always good partners when it came to our work. I could predict his behavior, even better than he could predict mine.

  “Blake, listen,” Harry began. “I know you can handle this all by yourself today.”

  “Harry,” I interrupted, “stop. I’m fine. I know what to say. The gist of things is that we support Vivi, we know she is innocent of any
questionable events. She is a very good friend to Lewis and nothing more. And we are doing everything in our power to find Lewis and get him home safely.”

  “You do know how to spin it, Blake. Thanks.” Harry looked relieved and I caught him looking over his shoulder at Dan and giving him a wink.

  “Harry,” I continued. “The sports media is here and I know we will need to take questions from them about the upcoming season. What do you think should be the spin there?” I wanted him to be in the moment, here with me, and not on the campaign trail…just for a second.

  “Uh, hmm, well, say that we believe Lewis will be there right in the broadcast booth where he belongs,” he said.

  The quad was covered with media. The satellite trucks were set up along University Boulevard for a mile. The president’s mansion across the street even allowed parking in the driveway to help with the traffic flow. Camera equipment and cables and boom mics were everywhere. Reporters were setting up with microphones being attached to the podium, now right in front of the chimes.

  The quad at the University of Alabama is a huge field of green grass covered in winding lighted paths and a forest of trees. It’s like a park, breezy and serene, though it is covered in students most of the year. The atmosphere felt a little different today with all the press buzzing around. Directly behind Denny Chimes is the famous old Amelia Gayle Gorgas Library, a Greek Revival building with a huge sweeping front porch and eight sturdy columns across the top of the front steps. The reporters were swarming clear across the quad from the chimes to the library steps. Loudspeakers were set up along the base of the chimes so our voices could be heard by the multitude of journalists. The anxiety was palpable as Harry and I approached Sonny and Vivi, who were already on the steps of the chimes.

  “You ready?” Sonny asked, knowing I was but looking down at me with that curled-up smile that let me know he knew I was fine and in control. He had no anxiety at all on his face and that relaxed me. Just what I needed as we began. I looked at Vivi and smiled a confident smile and nodded my head to her as Sonny stepped up to the crowd of reporters.

  The press pushed their mics forward. Sonny began. The cameras rolled. Harry and I stood stoic, aware that we must at all times project confidence in our client. But when your client is the redheaded town wild woman, well, Harry and I were going to need Academy Awards for this performance. Vivi stood between us wearing those giant Jackie O. sunglasses and a fashionable spring duster in lime and turquoise billowing in the gardenia-scented air.

  This was a big story that would become huge before it ever ended, and Lewis was the reason. His bad-boy lifestyle was followed with intrigue and excitement by fans far and wide. He was Tuscaloosa’s own slice of celebrity and definitely a publicity hound—a hand-shakin’, back-slappin’, good ol’ boy, but of the upper class. His voice had become synonymous with Alabama football. His face often appeared on the society pages as well as the sports page, usually with an expensive stogie in one hand and a two-olive martini in the other and he was almost always standing next to a cleavage-baring socialite.

  He had big, blue-gray eyes with eyelashes so long and dark it should be illegal for them to belong to a man. He had an incandescent thousand-watt smile, framed by big, deep-set dimples and a head of shiny, thick, jet-black hair. Women loved him. Men wanted to be him. But he had a softer side he showed only to Vivi. Turns out that despite all the bravado, he was really a hopeless romantic who sent her flowers and wrote the most beautiful, spicy letters. They had a free and open relationship, but lately Lewis had been seeing Vivi almost exclusively. Vivi hadn’t seen anyone but Lewis in at least a year.

  What I needed now was for the media to forget his playboy reputation and instead garner as much sympathy as possible—that’s what it was gonna take to have everyone on our side and free Vivi of any suspicions. God bless me and all my debate trophies.

  As Sonny spoke, my gaze darted around the sea of reporters, scanning the outstretched arms clenching microphones. And then my eyes locked on one person in particular. A blonde (bottle of course—no, more like a keg) standing to my left. In her thigh-baring miniskirt, with over-glossed lips and skin like milk-and-honey cream pie, she was beautiful in that flashy sort of way and I knew she was about to eat this story up, especially since I was involved.

  Dallas Dubois had been in and out of my life since I was sixteen. She was only fourteen when my mother married her father and we were twenty-six and twenty-four when they finally divorced. We had been many things to each other over the years: friends (for one day), loathing enemies, backstabbing competitors and stepsisters. She wanted to go to law school, too, but didn’t get in. It wasn’t a big surprise—she’d spent all her time partying and messing around with a variety of guys instead of actually studying. But she concocted some completely fake story about how she blew her LSATs on purpose and that Mother and Daddy were pushing her too hard to be just like me. Dallas was the original drama queen.

  Since then, she had been married three times and divorced three times, all in a matter of seven years, but after the third one she kept the name. I remember she once said to me that Dallas Dubois sounded like a movie star. I thought it did have a nice ring to it—but it sounded more like a porn star name to me. The movie star thing was always top of her mind, though, mainly to get back at her mother, who had left her when she was only four years old to run off to Hollywood. Eventually, Dallas had become a big-time television reporter and that was sorta like being a movie star…at least to her.

  Sonny continued talking to the crowd, but my eyes had become lasers burning a hole through the mass of people to Dallas. With her here, it was impossible to concentrate. She was always out to get me, so this just seemed like a perfect opportunity. My mind began to buzz with all the awful things she could ask, with the way she could take anything I said out of context. If I was a spin doctor, Dallas was a spin queen. My confidence wavered and the nerves kicked up a notch.

  “Blake!” Harry whispered loudly and gave me a body shove. “You’re on!” My laser eyes retracted. Oh, my God, what had Sonny said just now?

  “And now I’ll turn the mic over to the appointed spokesperson, Blake O’Hara Heart. Y’all can direct your questions to Ms. Heart at this time.”

  You have got to be freaking kidding me. I panicked. Debate champion? Hell, I was doing all I could to keep from uttering a bunch of mumbo-jumbo at this point. Dallas’s eyes caught mine as I approached the podium. It would sure as hell have helped if I had heard a syllable of Sonny’s account of the situation.

  As the reporters shoved their mics under my nose and the cameras panned over to me, the questions began to fly.

  “Ms. Heart, can we have a statement from Ms. McFadden?”

  Harry grabbed hold of Vivi’s hand so she wouldn’t speak. He would have thrown his hand over her mouth but that might have been too obvious with the cameras and all. I glanced over at Sonny. He winked and nodded as if to say, Go on, baby, you can do this.

  Of course I could. Talking is one of the things I do best. But if I’d had a judge before me right then, I’d have pleaded temporary incompetence and extenuating circumstances. I mean, just consider everything working against me: Vivi is my dearest friend of all time, so I had the added pressure of representing her perfectly. Besides, I’m a perfectionist anyway. Next, the missing person was my brother-in-law. The police chief and lead investigator was my former lover, and I would have to work with him side by side. My partner in representing Vivi was my husb
and, and our marriage wasn’t exactly what you’d call rock-solid anymore. The gossip queen, investigative and often sensationalist reporter was my former stepsister and number one teenaged rival. And to top it all off, her microphone, as well as her breasts, were shoved in my face along with about a hundred other mics, cameras and pushy reporters. I was feeling like a turkey in November.

  “Ms. Heart, where did Ms. McFadden last see Mr. Heart?” Dallas asked, knowing damn well the answer.

  “My client and Mr. Heart were in a meeting.” Well, technically they were. Plus, we had it on record in a statement made by Vivi for Sonny at the Tutwiler. They were in a “conference.”

  “Isn’t it true, Ms. Heart, that in fact, your client and Mr. Heart were last seen at the Fountain Mist?”

  Sonny stepped in and saved me. “As I indicated earlier, only one question per person.”

  “What is the relationship between Ms. McFadden and Mr. Heart?” asked a sports reporter from ESPN.

  “Well, they are very close, and she is as eager as we all are to find Mr. Heart,” I replied.

  “Is she jealous of Mr. Heart’s many romantic escapades?” Dallas piped up again. “Maybe she just got tired of all his flirtin’ and finally decided to do something—”

  “Only one question per person!” Sonny interrupted, cutting Dallas off midaccusation.

  I jumped in quickly. “I’d like to read a statement on behalf of Ms. McFadden now.”

  Cameras flashed and the crowd hushed as I began to read Vivi’s words. “I am very upset and confused regarding the disappearance of my good friend of many years, Mr. Lewis Heart. I will do anything in my power to be of assistance to the authorities in their efforts to discover what happened to Mr. Heart. Thank you.”