The Sassy Belles

by Beth Albright

  “Do we know anything?” Vivi said under her breath when she reached me, out of earshot of Arthur.

  “I was just with Dallas at the TV station,” I said.

  “Oh, my, my. Do tell.” Vivi took a carrot stick from the pocket of her apron and crunched into it as if she had a snack ready for the afternoon matinee.

  “She knows something.”

  The crunch stopped midchew. “What?” Vivi nearly choked. “Please, Blake, tell me. Anything.”

  “Well, I don’t think she knows much, and I certainly couldn’t get her to come clean to me. She doesn’t know where Lewis is or anything like that. But she said she got a strange phone call the morning after his disappearance.”

  “What kind of phone call?” Vivi put the carrot stick back in her apron pocket. “Let’s go inside,” she said.

  We sat down at the big oak table that took up most of the kitchen. Vivi shifted anxiously in her seat. I felt so bad for her in that moment, with her weary eyes begging me for anything…any shred of anything. Her desperation melted me.

  “Oh, sweetie.” I reached over and grabbed her hand. “We’ll find him. I know we will.”

  “Yes,” Vivi said, her eyes welling up, “but in how many pieces?”

  “Listen, Dallas got a call after Lewis went missing. Apparently, someone thinks they saw him at a bank in Birmingham.”

  “Oh, my God, really?” She smiled and her tears fell down her cheeks. “Oh, Blake, is it for real? I mean could he be alive? Maybe he has amnesia.” Vivi was so hopeful. I hated to tell her that at least ten calls of sightings of Lewis had come in since Dallas launched her campaign. It was exactly what I feared would happen. Everybody and their cousin coming out of the woodwork calling the TV station trying to get their fifteen minutes of fame. Vivi wiped tears from her cheeks with her bare hands. Dirt from the garden under her fingernails left streaks of mud across her face. I tried to calm her down. “Don’t get excited. Since Dallas went on the air this morning announcing the new Find Lewis Heart campaign, the phone has been ringing off the hook. I have already called Sonny and he is checking things out. We don’t think any of the tips are credible yet.”

  Vivi got up and walked over to the sink, turned on the spigot and shoved an old Anchor Hocking glass under the running water. “I don’t get it,” she said. She turned off the water, took a sip and used the rest to rinse her face, grabbing a dish towel and dabbing her cheeks.

  “Look,” I said. “First of all, it was Dallas who said this happened. So that means maybe it did, maybe it didn’t. You just can’t trust that big bag of hot air. I went to get more information about the source, but Dallas was, well, being Dallas. She just loved the fact that I needed something from her.”

  “So she wouldn’t talk?” Vivi asked, exasperated.

  “To be honest, I’m not sure she had anything else to say. She just enjoys watching me need something from her. I left telling her I’d subpoena her, but really, I think she’s pretty clueless at the moment.”

  “More than usual?” Vivi added with some sad sarcasm. Vivi had been pacing around the kitchen. She had pulled down some pink glasses from the white cabinets and poured us both a glass of sweet iced tea, the house wine of the South, while she paced. Vivi made her way to the cupboard and took out a fresh jar of Dreamland BBQ sauce and grabbed a loaf of plain white bread. Time for a snack. We sat dipping the bread into the sauce and sipping our tea. Who needs ribs when you’ve got the sauce? She looked so exhausted, and I knew she needed answers.

  “Are you scared for yourself?” I asked. “You know there is no body right now, and I truly believe there won’t be. He’s out there somewhere. At this moment, Lewis Heart is simply a missing person.”

  Vivi dropped her head down on the old table and began to sob.

  “Blake,” she started, but couldn’t get the words out. “I…I…”

  “What is it, sweetie?” I became worried that Vivi needed to say something.

  “I’m not worried about myself. I just…well, I’m just…”

  “I know, honey. I’ve seen it in your eyes. What is it? I know. It’s that you love him, right?” I asked.

  “What?” she said.

  “Lewis…you love him…that’s it, right?”

  Silence.

  “No, Blake.” Vivi finally got it together. “No, Blake, that’s not it. I mean, I do. Of course I do. But I thought that was obvious.” She paused. Then she looked deeply into my eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

  I dropped my glass to the floor and it broke to smithereens.

  “I know I did not hear that right,” I said. To Vivi, I am sure it looked like my brain had just fallen out of my head. I said nothing. I moved nothing. The iced tea was all over the floor.

  “Blake.” She leaned over and locked her eyes with mine. “Say something. Anything.”

  “I know I heard something, but I know you did not say what I thought I heard. Did you?”

  Arthur appeared at the door, the sound of the glass crashing having alerted him. He rushed over and began to pick up the pieces when Vivi jumped up and told him she’d get it.

  “I am so sorry,” I said, still shaking. “Let me.”

  We all began to nervously clean up the tea like it was an oil spill—in a panic and in a hurry. It was awkward. Both of us needing Arthur to return to the rose gardens and leave us to continue the newsflash. She looked up at me with such desperation.

  “Blake,” she began.

  I stopped her. “You don’t have to say it again,” I said, gesturing to Arthur’s presence. I couldn’t speak anymore. I looked at her. I had a million questions. I got down on my knees next to Arthur to be eye to eye with her. I couldn’t think of anything appropriate to say, so I held her. And there we were, in her kitchen, on the floor, on our knees hugging. It reminded me of my wedding proposal. Why, during all the monumental moments in my life, am I on my knees? No one would ever understand this moment with Vivi. I did. She loved Lewis pure and simple.

  She sniffled on my shoulder and whispered to me, “Blake, I really want to do this.”

  “Like there is even a question here.” I smiled at her. I had to lighten it up or both of us would startle poor Arthur. Nobody else needed to know just yet.

  “That sure must be some real expensive tea for y’all to be laid out all over it like this.” He was so warm and funny and instantly lightened the mood. We both let out a giggle so he would know we heard him and hurry it up out of the kitchen.

  “Of course,” I said, smiling at Vivi as we all cleaned up the mess. She knew it would be okay. I could see it in her red, teary eyes. We stood up and I rested both my hands on her shoulders. Arthur smiled and headed out the back door with a paper towel full of glass shards and wet with sweet tea without asking any questions. Surely he thought we were just crazy as usual and saw nothing out of the ordinary.

  “We’re going to spoil her rotten,” I said with a wink. “And we will get to the bottom of this whole case, and if your Lewis is out there, I will find him and bring him back to you and this baby.” I was full of determination. Full of promise. The stakes had now been raised—the famous Bama Broadcaster was not only missing…he was also gonna be a daddy!

  11

  My cell phone began ringing. The caller ID indicated Harry was on the line. As I left the kitchen, Vivi grabbed my arm and gave it a yank. I looked back at her. She put her finger to her lips and shook her head.

  I nodded. “No one but us
,” I whispered.

  “Hey,” I answered, moving into the other room. “Anything going on?”

  “I’m with Sonny at Lewis’s condo on campus. He said it was time to do a search.”

  “Find anything?” I asked.

  “Not yet, but I think we need to talk to Vivi. She spent the most intimate time with him recently. She’ll know things no one else will know.”

  “So true,” I answered. More than you could ever guess, I was thinking.

  “Anything going on with you?” he asked.

  Just a pregnancy. You know, typical stuff like that. I kept up the acting job. “Nothing. I’m with Vivi now and I’ve got a meeting with the Myrnas today.”

  “Well, I want to be there when Sonny questions Vivi again. We’re wrapping it up here, so how ’bout three o’clock at the station? Will you be done with your meeting by then?”

  “Three is fine, but the station makes her too nervous. Let’s go to Mother’s. She’ll relax there,” I said. “I’ll call Meridee and let her know. She’s leaving for her sister’s today, so we won’t have an audience this time. That will be perfect.”

  “Okay, sounds good. I’ll let Sonny know.” He hung up.

  I closed my phone, holding it to my face as if holding on to something familiar, then I turned to Vivi to let her know the plan. I left her standing in her kitchen with a hug.

  “Okay, listen,” I said matter-of-factly. I wanted her to feel strong, to pull it together. “I’ve got a meeting in half an hour at the office. This Myrna case is reaching fever pitch, so I’m sure I’ll be tied up for a while. But, Harry and Sonny need to see us at three at Mother’s. I’ll be by here to pick you up, okay?”

  “Did they find out something?”

  “No, just some strategy ideas. Now, get cleaned up and I’ll see you in a few.” I walked out to my car and waved bye to Arthur and drove to my office, where I knew the Myrnas would be waiting.

  * * *

  For three months I had been tied up in a legal battle over a magnificent old house in the center of town. The Brooks Mansion was not your typical old Southern plantation. Stories from all over the South had been told and retold about this famous old place. It was even featured in a book on Alabama ghosts. Of all the supposed haunted houses in Tuscaloosa, and believe me there’s more than you might think, the Brooks Mansion had become the Holy Grail if you were looking for apparitions—it is unquestionably known as Tuscaloosa’s most haunted house and is such an important part of Tuscaloosa’s history. It was constructed in a unique mix of Greek Revival and Italianate architecture and was built in 1837 by the then-owner, Dr. Robert Brooks. Many stories say Dr. Brooks himself still walks the halls and that his wife, who also died there, starts fires in the bell tower. The hauntings are the reason the house does not sell and is not kept up. But it is certainly a place that attracts the ghostbusters.

  The Brooks Mansion was owned by a church, and for the past few years it had been listed as one of Alabama’s Places in Peril by the Alabama Historical Society. Being born and raised in Tuscaloosa gives you a sense of pride in the town’s history, and I’ve always felt that it’s important to preserve what we can of our past, so I had been fighting alongside the Tuscaloosa Historical Society to save the mansion. I even became a member of the Preservation Society myself.

  The Myrnas are one of the wealthiest families in town, but they have little respect for history or preservation. They wanted to buy the land this grand old home sits on and tear it down for a shopping center. For the Myrnas money trumps antiquity any day. I had been trying to get the place listed on the National Registry of Historic places so the Myrnas couldn’t touch it.

  I was meeting with them that afternoon because they thought we could come to some sort of agreement. I knew they believed that any problem could be solved with the right amount of money, but I was not about to let Tuscaloosa’s rich history be bought—not for any price. They were about to see the challenge they had in front of them. Me. A passionate soul that fights tooth and nail for the things she loves. I just wished it were as simple as buying the whole place myself and caring for it. If I could, I would have made it into something special again. Something the town really needed, that everyone could enjoy. Unfortunately I wasn’t quite as well-off as the Myrna family. But no matter what, I knew I would never give in to their little proposition.

  I parked on the street just outside my office and went in the front entrance instead of my usual spot in back. Wanda Jo was sitting at her desk. I was a few minutes early.

  “Hey Wanda Jo,” I said as I grabbed my mail off the side credenza. “Everything on schedule?”

  “Yep, they’ve already called to confirm. Those people scare me,” she said, “always sho’in’ up in such formal suits and every one of ’em have shady smiles. Where I come from, you just know folks like that are up to no good.” She unwrapped a Hershey’s Kiss from the candy jar near her computer and popped it in her mouth.

  “I know it and I agree with you,” I said. “But believe me, there’s no way on God’s green earth that Brooks Mansion will ever be torn down. Not as long as I am breathing.” I was already sounding impressive.

  “You know I knew your grandfather, Blake, and he would have been so proud of you,” she said. “You are so much like both of your grandparents. That’s what makes you such a damn good lawyer. You always fight for the underdog, just like your grandmother, Meridee. You have enough passion for the things you believe in to go ’round the moon and back. If I could sell tickets to this showdown here today, I would. And my money’s on you, sugar.”

  “Thanks, Wanda Jo. I feel pretty good, too. I mean, Tuscaloosa supports their own and their history. Even if they try to tear that beautiful old place down, there would be a sit-in a mile wide on the grounds.” We smiled at each other. “Okay,” I said as I turned. “I’ll be in my office. Let me know when everyone gets here and I’ll meet them in the conference room.” I headed down the hall and closed my door.

  I wished Harry had been working on this one with me, but I remember when the case came in, he was just putting his campaign staff together and was too preoccupied to get involved. It’s just one of many cases we now handled independent of each other. I missed working with a partner. That’s what I thought we were doing when we started our practice together. I sat there thinking about that and the disappointment fluttered into my head for a moment. I shook it off. I knew I had to focus to deal with the important case at hand.

  I got out my file on the Myrnas and made some notes. Wanda Jo buzzed me over the intercom and announced that Ms. Crabtree, the Historical Society president, had arrived. I had wanted to meet with her ahead of time to hash out the strategy.

  “Send her on back,” I said. Ms. Crabtree was about sixty-five years old but looked older than her years. She wore her brownish-gray hair on top of her head in a small bun and carried her purse on her forearm. She was a proper woman. Always in a skirt and jacket. She had retired from the university where she had spent nearly thirty years as a history professor. I respected her and we had a great working relationship.

  I heard Wanda Jo walking down the hall and she opened my door to let Ms. Crabtree in.

  “Have a seat, Ms. Crabtree,” I said as she entered. “So nice to see you again.”

  “Thanks, Ms. Heart, good to see you, too.” She took a seat in the leather chair in front of my desk.

  “What can I get y’all to drink?” Wanda Jo said. “I know what you want, Blake, ano
ther Diet Coke, but what about you, Ms. Crabtree? Coke, tea, whisky?”

  “Wanda Jo!” I said it like I was surprised at her, but I wasn’t.

  “Oh, I’m just kiddin’. But those Myrnas sure make me need a swig.”

  “I’ll have iced tea, please,” Ms. Crabree said. Wanda Jo went to the office kitchen and returned with the drinks and shut the door.

  “Well, I believe we are ready,” I told Ms. Crabtree. “Do you have any questions?”

  “I just want to make sure this is gonna work. So many people are counting on us to save this building and restore it.”

  “It will be fine. I was assured that as long as the National Registry is working on this, it is not a possibility for the Myrnas to go ahead with their plans to tear it down. Just follow my lead and we can hold them off for a little while longer.”

  “Oh, I hope so. We need this building for future generations. We need to pass down our history!”

  Wanda Jo interrupted us. The Myrnas were early. I smiled at Ms. Crabtree and we joined the group already waiting in the conference room.

  “Good afternoon,” I said as we all sat down at the large oval table. Wanda Jo had put a pitcher of sweet tea and some glasses at the center of the table. The Myrna men were old rednecks that had come into a fortune buying and selling property—mostly commercial, but they owned a few rental houses, too. Nobody around town trusted them too much. Both the older Mr. Myrna and his son were at the meeting that day.