“About?”
“Wondering how she ended up in the grave, is all. Seems odd.”
“That it does. Pretty hard not to see a hole that size. She must have been out here pretty early.”
“My thought exactly.”
She leaned toward me, lowering her voice so only I could hear. “Are you thinking . . . murder?”
“Mercy, I hope not,” I said. That would be far worse for her family than an accidental death. But I couldn’t shake the question, and the possibility. Something didn’t feel right about the whole situation.
A burst of noise came from an approaching group. Madelyn and I both looked up as Delta’s daughter, Megan, walked up to where we stood. She was escorted by her husband, Todd, Rebecca, Megan’s friend, whom I’d met the day before, and another man, whom I presumed was Anson Mobley, Megan’s father. He was tall and thin, with an abundance of shaggy brown hair blowing in the breeze, his cheeks ruddy from the shock. I’d only ever seen him flying down Mockingbird Lane in his car. Seeing him now, I thought what an odd couple he and Delta must have made. She was on the short side, not more than five feet four inches, but he had to be more than six feet. She’d had dark hair, and his was almost blond. She was robust and he was rail thin. They seemed opposite in every way.
But opposites did attract, or so the old adage said. The sobbing continued, drawing me out of my thoughts and back to the group descending on the gravesite. Coco and Sherri trudged behind Megan, Rebecca, Todd, and Anson, holding on to each other’s hands. Sisterly comfort. And behind them came the other Red Hat ladies, each looking incredulous at the unexpected loss of their friend. Each woman was dabbing a tissue or handkerchief to her eyes. Each one was sobbing.
The other people who’d been working the tag sale came to the edge of the cemetery, most staying outside the fence, but some venturing in. The pastor broke through the crowd, making a beeline for the family. He wrapped his arm around Megan, letting her face fall against his shoulder in grief.
There were other onlookers I didn’t recognize. They seemed to have come in droves to see the woman in the grave. I knew death brought out the morbid curiosity in people, but it still gave me an uneasy feeling.
I stayed put just until Hoss McClaine gave me permission to leave. “Try to keep out of trouble, Harlow,” he said as I started to walk away. The message was clear. It was bad enough that I’d discovered the body. That had happened a bit too frequently. He didn’t want me getting wrapped up in whatever had happened to Delta.
But back at Buttons & Bows a few hours later, I was surrounded by the Red Hatters. They had shown up at the shop in a big group, gathered around me, and started asking a million questions at once, wanting to get the nitty-gritty straight from the horse’s mouth. “The sheriff said she fell and hit her head on a rock in the grave,” Georgia said.
My imagination was running wild. Did she fall, or was she pushed? I had no way of knowing, so I shoved the thought away and tried to focus on the women before me.
“How long was she there before you found her?” Randi asked.
“Did you see anything, Harlow?” Cynthia asked, but before I could answer, Sherri, Delta’s younger sister, burst into sobs and tried to wipe away her flowing tears. “She found Delta, Cyn,” she said, steadying her trembling voice. “She didn’t see what happened.”
“We need to pray,” Bennie said softly. “Your poor mother, Sherri. I can’t imagine what Jessie Pearl’s going through. Megan, too.”
“Mother’s in shock,” Sherri said. She cupped her hands over her eyes, her chin quivering. “She’s lost. Delta was . . . was . . .”
“She was horrible to Mother,” a new voice said. We all turned to see Coco Jones, Delta and Sherri’s youngest sister, standing in the doorway of Buttons & Bows. She had one hand on the doorframe, the other on her hip. Her blond hair curled above her shoulders, and though her eyes were red-rimmed and bright, her voice was steady and indignant. “You all know it. You heard the way she spoke to Mother. The way she manipulated her. I’m sorry Delta’s dead,” Coco said, “but there was no love lost between us. I’d be lying to pretend otherwise.”
Sherri’s jaw dropped, and we all looked on in stunned silence as she stared at her sister. “Coco, Delta is dead! How can you even say that?”
Coco trained her eyes on her sister. “And how can you not? You heard plenty of times how Delta spoke to Mother. You know what she did to us both.”
“Shht.” Sherri glared at her sister. “Don’t, Coco.”
Coco’s gaze traveled over each of the Red Hatters in a circle. “You can’t sugarcoat things and make Delta out to be something she wasn’t now that she’s dead. I’m not saying Mother’s better off with Delta gone, but things could be a might easier for her.”
“You sound so heartless,” Sherri said, her voice scarcely more than a whisper.
Coco blinked heavily, lowering her chin, almost looking chagrined.
“Will you say a prayer for your mother, Coco?” Randi asked.
“Well, of course. She’s my mother and I love her. I loved Delta, too, for all her faults.”
That was all the suggestion the Red Hatters needed. The women formed a circle and clasped hands. I stepped back, joining the circle, taking Randi’s hand on my right and holding my left hand out for Coco to take.
She’d let the door close behind her, dropping her cloth purse on the loveseat, and stepped into the open space in the circle. She took Bennie’s hand, then took mine, our gazes locking for a moment. I felt as if she were trying to send me a silent message, but I couldn’t decipher the meaning behind the look.
Randi cleared her throat, squeezing my hand. At first I thought she was gathering strength from me, but she stood up straight, pushed her shoulders back, and exuded more confidence than I’d ever witnessed from her. She’d seemed so timid the last time I’d seen her, but right now her expression was forceful, and I realized she was bolstering everyone in the room. “Divine Mother of us all, your essence is within us and within all things. We ask for your energy and power on this sad day, that you may fill us with your sacred light, and help Jessie Pearl find peace, wholeness, grace, and wisdom during this time of trial.
“We ask that you help each one of us connect with your divine self, that we may be empowered by you and your love, and that Jessie Pearl may receive all your love and grace.”
We all stood silent for a moment, taking in the words Randi had offered. It wasn’t your typical Baptist or Methodist, or even Catholic offering, and I got the impression that none of the Red Hatters knew quite what to make of the prayer.
Finally, Coco arched a brow. “What the hell was that?” she demanded.
I thought Randi might shrink back from the criticism, but instead, she stood even taller. “You pray to God, I pray to the Goddess,” she said. “Jessie Pearl needs all the support she can get. You’re her daughter, you should know that.”
“Thank you for that, Randi,” Cynthia said, clearing her throat. “Let’s have a more traditional offering, too.” She went on before anyone else could say a word, her voice ringing out clear and strong. “Dear Lord, we ask that you watch over Jessie Pearl, Sherri, Coco, Todd, and especially Megan and Anson as they grieve the loss of Delta. We ask this in the name of your son, Jesus Christ. Amen.”
“Amen,” everyone said at once.
And just like that, the little prayer circle disbanded.
If Randi was offended at the second prayer, she didn’t let on. “Should we cancel the progressive dinner?” she asked, not really directing the question to anyone in particular, but more to the room at large.
Coco was the first to respond. “No, it should go on as planned. We need to make things upbeat for Mother.”
“She needs to grieve, Coco,” Sherri said, once again shaking her head as if she just didn’t understand her sister.
“And she’ll have plenty of time to grieve, but we need to keep things normal. We can’t let her sink into her sorrow or we might never g
et her back out again.”
The ladies all nodded in silent agreement. Jessie Pearl was going to need a lot of support as she came to terms with losing her eldest daughter.
“Harlow Jane!” The Dutch door in the kitchen was flung open and Mama’s voice rang through the house. “Harlow Jane, I’ve got news. You’ll never believe it. Hoss said that woman, your neighbor? She was murd—”
Mama came through the archway between the kitchen and dining room and stopped short, a startled expression on her face when she saw all the people still gathered in a circle in the front room. “What the devil?” she blurted.
“Mama, this is the Red Hat group I was telling you about.” I swung my arm toward Coco and Sherri. “These are Jessie Pearl Trapper’s daughters.”
Mama sputtered, regaining her composure. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said to them. “If I can do anythin’ to help your mother, you be sure to let me know.”
The women all stared at Mama, looking flummoxed. Only Coco had the wherewithal to speak her mind. “What were you saying about Delta?”
I already knew what she’d been about to say. It wasn’t hard to fill in the blank on the word she’d cut short. It had been in the forefront of my mind since this morning’s discovery of the body. And it had been a word far too present in my life since I’d been back in Bliss.
Murder.
Before Mama could answer, a cell phone rang. Then another. In mere seconds both Coco and Sherri had answered their phones, and they were both listening intently.
“Hit with it? That can’t be right, Sheriff,” Sherri said. So she was talking to Hoss.
Coco muttered something under her breath and hung up without saying anything more. I suspected the bearer of bad news for her had been Deputy Sheriff Gavin McClaine, Hoss’s son. We’d run in different crowds in high school, but he’d found his confidence since he’d joined his dad’s posse. Overconfident. If he weren’t halfway decent at his job—and in love with one of my best friends, Orphie Cates—he would have driven me completely batty.
Coco and Sherri looked at each other. Sherri’s eyes welled with tears. Coco nudged her glasses up with the backs of her fingers, jamming them back into position. And then Coco said, “Delta didn’t fall and hit her head. The deputy said she had blunt force trauma to the back of her head.”
The women stood frozen, each of them processing what Coco had said.
“What does that mean?” Cynthia finally asked.
Coco scanned the circle, looking at each of the women who’d been closest to Delta. “It means she didn’t fall, and it wasn’t an accident. It means,” she said, “that Delta was murdered.”
Chapter 6
A short while later, the majority of the Red Hatters had left Buttons & Bows. Only Cynthia Homer, Sherri Wynblad, and Coco Jones stayed. We sat in the little seating area, Coco on the red velvet settee, one of Meemaw’s original pieces of furniture. Sherri sat back on the loveseat, her fingers intertwined in front of her. Cynthia and Mama sat together on the couch, Mama still looking shell-shocked that she’d almost been the one to break the news about there being another murder in Bliss, and Cynthia, if I wasn’t mistaken, looking a little bit thrilled to be part of something so out of the ordinary.
I leaned back against the armoire that housed part of my fabric collection, one cowboy-booted foot crossed over the other, my arms folded protectively in front of me. Delta was dead, and my suspicions had been right. She’d been murdered. I felt the warm presence of Meemaw by my side, buoying me in this moment of crisis. Because once again, it appeared that I was in the thick of a murder.
I’d discovered Delta’s body.
She’d had in her possession the apron I’d just made for her.
She’d been my next-door neighbor.
And I was still making aprons for all of her closest friends . . . since, as far as they’d said, the progressive dinner was still on.
I’d been through this sort of thing before, and I still couldn’t make sense of how someone could come to the decision to take another person’s life. Murder seemed to happen all around me, and sometimes, like now, I had to wonder if it was my ancestor Butch Cassidy’s bad karma that kept coming back to me. And I also wondered if helping to solve murders would somehow help right his wrongs from so long ago.
Or maybe I was just plumb crazy.
Coco shook her head. “How will we ever tell Mother that Delta was murdered?”
No one had a good answer to that. Mama shook her head and filled the silence with her own question. “Why would anyone want her dead?”
Cynthia kept her eyes cast downward. Coco and Sherri remained silent.
Coco opened her mouth to say something but closed it again. Whatever her private thoughts were, she was keeping them to herself.
I wasn’t a detective, but I’d had enough experience to warrant butting in. “Having an enemy who would want you dead is big. Murder isn’t easy,” I said to Coco and Sherri. “There has to be a motive, right? The sheriff’ll ask both of you what you think because y’all knew her the best.”
Cynthia cleared her throat and looked up, her gaze passing over each of us. “I don’t mean to interrupt,” she said, knowing full well that’s precisely what she was doing, and seemingly relishing the attention, “and I don’t want to toss names out, you know, in case they’re innocent, but I saw Delta and Jeremy Lisle, over at the Historic District? They were arguing about something. I wonder . . .”
She didn’t want to toss out a name, but she’d done it anyway. I didn’t know Jeremy Lisle, but I instantly felt bad for him. People argued, but that didn’t mean they would kill someone. I wouldn’t want anyone thinking I was capable of murder. I’d been through that once before, and it still left a sour taste in my mouth . . . and had lit a fire under my behind. Nothing like needing to clear your name to help you solve a murder.
“Did you hear what the argument was about?” Coco asked.
The corner of Cynthia’s mouth lifted in a little self-satisfied smile. It was scarcely noticeable, but it was there. “Something about her position on the Bliss Historic Council.”
Sherri’s head snapped up. “What do you mean? She stepped down.”
Cynthia looked like the cat who swallowed the canary, self-satisfied grin and all. “Maybe,” was all she said.
Sherri glared. “If you know something, just spit it out, Cyn.”
“Even if I knew, it’s not my story to tell. Talk to Jeremy,” she said.
“But do you have an idea?” I asked, already making a mental note to ask Will. He was on the Bliss Historic Council as the city architect.
“Like I said, I hate to stir up trouble and drag anyone’s name through the mud, but I will say this,” Cynthia said, her hand splayed dramatically across her chest. “Jeremy Lisle is running for mayor, and Delta backed the incumbent. Politics. Makes things sticky.” She threw up her hands and looked at me. “You really should talk to Jeremy.”
“The sheriff should talk to him, not me. I don’t have anything to do with this.” Because I’d had a hand in a few recent cases, people assumed I was unofficially involved in the goings-on of law enforcement in Bliss. But even if I was curious about what had happened to Delta, all I wanted to do, at the moment, was make aprons.
Coco leaned forward, catching my eye. “Harlow, Delta and I didn’t always see eye to eye, that’s certainly no secret, but she was my sister. She’s left behind a daughter and a mother. And you have the gift of sleuthing. For Jessie Pearl, and for Megan, could you ask around and see what you can find out?”
I blinked at her. And blinked again. Still I couldn’t figure out what to say. As the seconds ticked past, I wondered if I could blink away the curiosity coursing through me, blink away Coco’s wide, crystal blue eyes imploring me to help her mother and her niece, blink away the intent gazes of Sherri and Cynthia, and blink away Mama shaking her head and silently communicating that under no circumstances was I to get wrapped up in another murder investigation.
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As it often did, a question surfaced in my mind. What would Meemaw do?
I went over the possible answers:
1) Stay out of it—after all, although Delta had been my neighbor, it was none of my business;
2) Ride the sheriff and deputy sheriff’s coattails to satiate my curiosity while still staying out of the fray; or
3) Help a friend in need.
I nodded, and for a second it felt as though Meemaw were right behind me, her hands on my shoulders, slowly pushing me forward. She needn’t have bothered. There was no question what she would do if she were in my place. Up until her dying breath, she’d helped everyone around her, and if she could do anything to ease Jessie Pearl’s pain at losing her daughter, she’d do it.
And so would I. “Yes. I’ll see what I can find out,” I said.
Mama leveled a We’re gonna have words about this later look at me. Sherri wrung her hands and fought back her tears. But Cynthia sat up a trifle straighter, her lips thinning as her grin widened. “Excellent. As luck would have it, the Historic Council meets tonight. Jeremy will be there. I can go with you, introduce you around, and you can talk to him. It’ll be the perfect chance to find out what he and Delta were arguing about.”
Before I could decide whether I wanted to dive right into investigating Delta’s death by talking to Jeremy Lisle or if I needed some time to think things through, perhaps while making an apron, Coco piped up. “Well, you certainly don’t think I’m going to sit around by myself while you two are out solving Delta’s murder. I’m coming, too.” She looked at Cynthia, silently daring her to argue.
Cynthia’s smile wobbled, but she managed to maintain it. “Don’t let me stop you. It’s open to the public. Starts at six thirty on the dot.”
Coco cocked her head, forcing her own smile. “Wonderful. I’ll be there at six.”
Chapter 7
A Seamless Murder Page 5
