I nodded and walked out of her office. As I passed the young woman in the cute dress, I smiled, but she quickly turned away. I kept my shoulders back, knowing if I’d done anything in that short exchange, it was set Dabney Clayton on notice. I strongly suspected she’d killed her partner, and I had every intention of proving it.
My ego inflated, and my step confident, I marched out of that office feeling like I could conquer the world. So, when I saw the note under my car’s windshield wiper, I wasn’t at all concerned.
And then I read it.
When you play with fire, you’re bound to get burned.
My ego was the balloon, and the note, a sewing needle.
I stared at the note, trying to decide what to do. I peeked back into Craddock & Clayton hoping no one noticed my furrowed brow and pursed lips, but not one single person inside faced the window.
I hadn’t really paid attention to the people in there, but did a quick assessment of them then, all but the girl in the cute dress, because every woman notices a good fashion choice, and made a mental note of what they looked like. From the back, at least.
Could any of them have walked out and put the typed note on my car windshield? Yes, absolutely, and I wouldn’t have noticed, because I wasn’t exactly paying attention. I wanted to kick myself in the shin for that, too.
I stuffed the note into my bag and headed to the one place I’d find solace and support.
Millie’s.
Two of my favorite people in the world were there stuffing scones and coffee into their mouths like they hadn’t eaten in months.
“You had this new scone Millie’s got? Henrietta asked.
“It’s better than a plate full of barbeque and an ear of corn,” Bonnie commented.
“Slathered in salty butter, too,” Henrietta said.
Bonnie nodded as she heaved another chunk of the tasty treat into her mouth.
The two women, upwards of an age I learned to never mention even though I wasn’t exactly sure what it was, had been a part of the decluttering and staging class Belle and I’d taught some time back. It was an emotional time for both of us, and through it all, Bonnie and Henrietta were both comic relief and support. Since then they’d become important people in our lives and even bigger comic relief than either of us thought possible.
Sometimes though, it was a bit overwhelming.
Which was I why I didn’t concern myself with their all black attire, consisting of cotton sweatshirts and sweat pants, the kind that had the elastic band at the bottom of the leg. I giggled at the black knit beanies though. It wasn’t exactly winter, and their perfectly coifed hair styles would have mighty fine cases of hat head when they pulled those things off.
I sat next to them. “What in the devil are y’all wearing beanies for?”
Millie brought over a milk jug filled with sweet tea. “They’re planning on protecting you from death by cookie.”
I sat between the two women. “Protect me?” I made eye contact with both of them, and Henrietta bent down under the table. When she finally pushed herself back up, she had a blue plastic bat in her right hand.
“Yup, from death by cookie,” she said.
Millie snorted. “What’re you gonna do, beat the cookie out of Lily if she eats it?”
“’Course not,” Bonnie said. She bent down and held up her matching bat. “We’re gonna beat the butts of the person that made them, that’s what.”
“With a plastic bat.” Millie said, chuckling.
“And we got our investigator kit, the one from the other day,” Henrietta said. “We’re all set to keep our Lilybit safe and knock a murderer out cold if we have to.”
Bonnie placed her hand over mine. “We heard about them cookies that got delivered to your office and the note that came along with them. We don’t want you and Belle getting hurt, especially with the wedding so close.”
“I appreciate that, but we’re fine. We made a commitment to staying away from all things not given to us by personal friends.”
“That’s all well and good, but we’re still goin’ to do what we’re planning,” Henrietta said.
Bonnie agreed. “And besides, we don’t want these bats here to go to waste. Cost me close to fifteen big ones at the Walmart yesterday.”
I searched my purse for my wallet. “I am not going to let you spend that kind of money on us.” I dug the wallet out and handed a twenty to Bonnie.
Millie yanked it from her hand. “You can’t take that.”
“Why not? I got a limited budget, and she’s offering.”
I calmly took the bill from Millie’s hand and handed it back to Bonnie. “I insist.”
“She insists,” she said.
“Can’t argue with the bride,” Henrietta said.
“This ain’t about her wedding,” Millie said.
Neither of the other two women had a retort for that because at the same moment Old Man Goodson and Billy Ray Brownlee walked into the café with matching black sweat suits and beanies. I thanked God for not having a sip of coffee going down my throat at that moment because I was one hundred percent certain I’d have spit it onto the table and the crumbs of the scones left on the plate sitting in the middle of it.
I needed to find out what new flavor Millie came up with before the rest of the scones disappeared.
Millie snorted again when she caught a glimpse of the two older men, affectionately known as the man toys of both Bonnie and Henrietta. “Where’s the plastic bats?”
Each man held up a golf club, and my eyes widened.
“Don’t need no bats,” Billy Ray said.
“We got us some clubs at the Goodwill down in Dawsonville. Three bucks each,” Old Man Goodson said, and then he winked at me.
I’d recently grown to have a different kind of respect for the fragile looking man with the heart of gold. I’d once considered him sweet and unassuming, and while he was still sweet, I’d learned he was a lot smarter than people thought. I respected that about him, too.
“I think the person that left the cookies is looking for short cuts.” I pulled the note from my purse. “I just got this a little while ago.” I set the note on the table, and Bonnie went for it, but I stopped her. “I shouldn’t have touched it either, but I kind of had to.”
Millie put on her reading glasses hanging from a beaded strand around her neck. “When you play with fire, you’re bound to get burned.”
“Well, they might could learn to spell burnt.”
I didn’t tell her that in that case, the proper spelling was actually burned.
“Sounds like a threat to me,” Bonnie said.
“Glad we got us some weapons,” Henrietta said.
Billy Ray held up his golf club and it shook in his hand. “Got all the protection you and Belle need right here.”
“That’s not going to be necessary.” I tapped onto my phone’s screen. “I’m texting the sheriff about it now.”
“Ain’t it cute how she calls her fiancé the sheriff?” Bonnie asked.
“He is the sheriff,” Millie said.
“I know that, woman. You got to get that chip off your shoulder.”
“I don’t got nothing on my shoulder.”
“Once she shacks up with Buford, she’ll be nice again,” Henrietta said.
I held back a giggle, but it was hard, because I kind of agreed with Henrietta on that one. “It’s stressful, getting your house ready for another person. I’m going through it now.” I was. Dylan would be moving in shortly after our return from our honeymoon, and I’d spent as much of my free time as possible making room for him and all of his man stuff, and believe me, he had a lot more stuff than I had time and space for, for sure.
“Don’t mean she’s got to be a cranky old bitty in the meantime.”
“Ladies, please. Now Dylan’s on his way. I just texted him.”
While we waited, I filled them in on what had transpired since Belle found Carole Craddock in the Studebaker’s home. “How did y�
�all find out about the cookies and the note?”
Old Man Goodson smiled. “Nothing’s a secret in town, you know that, Lilybit.”
“Some things are secrets,” I said.
The slight nod of his head told me he knew exactly what I was talking about, and it was a secret that would stay between us forever.
“Sounds like that Dabney Coleman gone and killed her bestie,” Bonnie said.
“It ain’t Dabney Coleman, it’s Dabney something else,” Millie said.
Clayton,” I said.
“Yeah, Clayton. Coleman’s the actor you’re talking about. The one in the On Golden Pond and that movie with Dolly Parton. Think he’s been dead for years.”
“He ain’t dead,” Billy Ray said. “Least I don’t think so.”
“You keep up with the celebrity gossip,” Old Man Goodson asked, a touch of humor in his tone.
“I got me a few actors I like. Just watched him in 9 to 5 on cable last week.”
“Don’t mean he’s still alive if they’re still showing his movies on the TV,” Old Man Goodson said.
“Man’s got a lot of time on his hands, and he ain’t the sharpest tack in the box,” Millie said. She walked back to the counter to help a customer that had just walked in.
“I think Bonnie’s right,” Old Man Goodson said. He pointed to the note on the table. “Sounds like that Clayton girl had a bone to pick with her partner, and now she’s got one to pick with you, too.”
Dylan and Matthew came through the door and greeted us all with a head nod. They removed their hats.
My fiancé kissed the top of my head. “Where’s the note?”
I pointed to the middle of the table.
The two men read it and then Matthew picked it up with a napkin.
“My fingerprints are on it,” I said.
“I figured.”
Dylan took the note from Matthew and examined it closely. “Looks like the same font from the other one, but I’d have to have my techs check it to be sure.”
“Why don’t you got your people protecting our girls?” Billy Ray asked.
Dylan sighed. “If I had my way, they would be, but the county commissioners are tightening their leashes on several county departments. We’re over budget on overtime, and they don’t think protecting a citizen that–“ He narrowed his eyes straight at me. “–sticks her nose where it doesn’t belong is a justifiable reason for overtime hours.”
I raised an eyebrow, and Dylan held his hands up. “Not my words.”
“Good thing we’ve got a plan then,” Bonnie said. She held up her plastic bat.
Matthew chuckled.
“Check out what the boys have,” I said.
The two men held up their golf clubs and both Matthew and Dylan nodded.
“Not too shabby,” Dylan said.
“Is that a Rogue X?” Matthew asked Billy Ray.
“Don’t know. Got it at the Goodwill.”
Matthew shook his head. “Definitely no then. Those things run around a hundred bucks, but they’re the best out there.”
“Our protectors are on a limited budget, too,” I said.
“Amen,” Old Man Goodson said.
“Y’all aren’t really planning on using those things, are you?” I asked.
“Sure are,” Bonnie said.
“We’re planting our butts right outside your office. That’s why Millie here filled that jug with sweet tea. It’s goin’ to be hard work keeping you and Belle safe.”
“You should have worn something a little lighter then,” I said.
“The four of you don’t need to be—”
I stopped Dylan. “Don’t even bother. You know they’re going to do what they’re going to do regardless of what we say.”
“Sounds familiar.”
“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.”
“I’m the sheriff. They ought to listen to what I say.”
“And you should be the one looking out for our girls, but since you’re not, someone’s got to. Seems we’re qualified to do the job,” Billy Ray said. He held up his golf club again, and it wobbled back and forth in his hand.
I pressed my lips together, but Matthew couldn’t hold back his laughter.
Chapter 11
At the request of the county commissioners, Dylan scheduled a town meeting to update everyone on the investigation. They believed it was good media fodder for the Atlanta news stations, though Dylan wasn’t sure any of them would even show up. Nonetheless, he and Matthew headed back to the sheriff’s office to prepare for it later that day, and the rest of us walked the few steps to Bramblett County Realty to get to work.
Back at the office, the men sat outside in lawn chairs Old Man Goodson had thrown in the back of his pickup truck, while Henrietta and Bonnie stayed inside, guarding me up close and personal, as Bonnie said.
Belle arrived shortly after they’d settled into their designated spots, and stood outside chatting with the men, an amused smile stretched across her face. She came in giggling. “I just love those two.”
Henrietta swung her plastic bat in the air. “Don’t you be horning in on our territory or I’m going to have to teach you a thing or two.”
“Oh honey, you could teach me a lot of things, I’m sure. But don’t worry, I am not horning in on your men. They are just too much for me to handle.”
“Sounds about right,” Bonnie said.
Belle and I had a quick conversation about the added security, the county commissioners limiting the department’s overtime hours, and Billy Ray’s increased shaking.
“We ought to get him to a doctor,” Belle whispered.
“I was thinking the same thing.”
“He won’t go to no doctor,” Henrietta said.
“We’ve been telling him for the past month he’s got to, but he flat out refuses,” Bonnie said.
Henrietta shook her head. “Stubborn old coot.”
“But he’s our stubborn old coot,” Bonnie said. She dug into her large bright orange beach bag. “Speaking of old. I got something for the wedding.” She took out a small gift box wrapped in yellow and red balloon gift wrap with happy birthday printed all over it. “Sorry about the paper, but most of my friends are dead, not getting married. Last time I used this was 2002.”
Belle practically spit out the sweet tea she’d just sipped.
“Oh, Bonnie, you shouldn’t have.” I gently tore the wrapping off the box and smiled as I opened it. Inside was a blue lace garter with an intricate pearl floral design. I carefully removed it from the box and gasped. “This is beautiful. Was it yours?”
She nodded. “Didn’t have no wedding to speak of, but my momma wanted to make sure I had something special that day, so she made it herself. Wore it under my blue dress on account of we didn’t have the money for a real wedding dress, but I didn’t mind none. It was the only pretty thing I had for years.”
“Why didn’t you give this to one of your kids?”
She grunted. “Would have if they’d given me the chance, but neither of them told me they were getting married till after the fact.” She pointed to the garter. “Now you got yourself something old. And you know what? Gave myself to my husband for the first time wearing that thing.” She laughed. “Had I known what I was getting myself into, I wouldn’t have bothered with the darn thing.”
“The garter?” I asked.
“Heck no, the marriage.”
That time Belle did spit out her sweet tea. I laughed, too.
“Don’t get me wrong. I had a long marriage, and most of the time I was happy, but raising a husband and kids takes its toll on a woman. I used to be near five feet six inches, now look at me.”
Bonnie wasn’t much taller than a bar height counter, and I didn’t recall her ever being much taller than that. “You look like a beautiful woman.”
“I’m rode hard and put away wet, but I earned these battle scars.” She pulled up her sweatshirt. “See this? I used to have me a strong gut, hard as steel
I tell ya, and then them two babies dropped out and it all went south.”
“Gravity has its effect on everything. But that doesn’t matter. It’s what’s inside that counts.”
“What’s inside is a whole lotta gas,” she said. “I had me two hot dogs last night.”
“Ain’t nobody need to be around that woman the day after two hotdogs,” Henrietta said.
I laughed.
“Oh, and I got something for you, too,” Henrietta said. She removed a small box from her bag. “I did have me a wedding dress, one my momma made, and this here matched it perfect.”
Her box was wrapped in the same paper as Bonnie’s. I opened it and gasped when I saw the beautiful pearl necklace. “This is gorgeous, Henrietta.”
Belle leaned in and gasped too.
“Are they real?” I asked. I stole a look at Belle, and I knew she’d mentioned to them that I hadn’t found a necklace.
Henrietta shrugged. “Beats me. They were my momma’s and her momma’s. Just thought they were pretty, never cared what they were made of.”
“I don’t care either,” I said. I hugged both of the women as tears welled up in my eyes. “I love you two so much. Thank you for this. I wish you could come to the wedding.”
Henrietta coughed, and Bonnie elbowed her.
What?” I asked.
The men walked in escorting John Rockwell, who carried a large bouquet of red roses. Belle’s smile dropped.
“Hey ladies, how y’all doing?” John asked.
“Man here says he’s got a special delivery for our Belle, and he refused to leave it with us.”
We’d been so caught up in the moment, none of us had noticed them outside.
“It’s okay. This is John Rockwell, a fellow realtor,” Belle said.
John handed her the bouquet. “For you, my dear.”
Belle flinched. “John, that’s very kind of you, but you—”
He nodded. “I know, I know. I shouldn’t have, but how else am I going to convince you to go out with me?”
“Belle can’t go out with you. She’s got a man already,” Bonnie said.
“And he’s a lot better looking than you,” Henrietta added.
John Rockwell smirked as he gazed up and down Belle’s body. “I don’t see a ring on her finger.”
Realtor Rub Out Page 8
