“No,” Mary Bliss said. “We’re not done here yet.”
“What do you want?” Parker asked, staring nervously at the Explorer, whose motor was still running.
“I want the title to the house,” she said. “I want you to pay it off with all that money you stole. It’s the least you can do. I’ve got lawyer’s expenses, and I’m still paying off all that debt you’ve saddled me with. But the most important thing is Erin. I need money to pay her tuition. You owe her that.”
Parker laughed. “Money. I should have known that’s what it all comes down to. Well, you’re shaking the wrong tree, Mary Bliss. I’ve sunk every damn dime into the bed-and-breakfast. And it’s all in Russell’s name. So even if I do get arrested, you won’t be able to get your hands on it.”
He laughed again. He was actually enjoying himself. “But don’t worry, there’s always good old Meemaw.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mary Bliss asked. Her head was starting to pound. She shouldn’t have chugged that Bloody Mary.
“Charlie called me this morning. About Mama’s will.”
“Let me guess. She left me the dusting powder and Erin the martini shaker.”
“That and the house down in Griffin, a trust fund for Erin, and some assorted stocks and bonds. In short, everything.”
“I don’t believe you,” Mary Bliss said, her head throbbing. “Eula was broke. She ran through her granddaddy’s money years ago.”
“Actually, she was loaded. Charlie says there’s a couple million just in mutual funds. Mama was just testing us. To see if we really loved her. If we’d take care of her ’til the end. Another one of her goddamned games.”
“So you’re a rich man,” Mary Bliss said. “How does it feel?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Parker said, his smile bitter. “She left me exactly zip. Nada. It all goes to you and Erin.”
“You’re such a liar. I was just with Charlie. He never said a word.”
“Mama’s instructions. He only broke the bad news to me today when I asked him for an advance on my inheritance. To pay for my lawyer. Charlie says Mama called him late last week, insisting he come over to the nursing home. She wanted to amend her will. Up until then, I was her sole beneficiary. Right up until last week. She told Charlie she’d changed her mind. She told him as far as she was concerned, I was dead.”
“But she knew you weren’t dead,” Mary Bliss said, interrupting. “She never believed me. She kept all your postcards. I found them in her room, after she’d gone to the hospital.”
Parker kept dabbing at his lip, even though the blood had dried now. “Control. Mama was all about control. She called me, to tell me Erin was in trouble. ‘You’ve had your fling,’ she said. ‘You’ve had three months now to get it out of your system. Come on home, boy.’ That’s what she called me. Boy. ‘I’m sick. I’m dying,’ she said. ‘Erin’s in trouble. Time to do right by your family.’ ”
“Why didn’t you come?” Mary Bliss asked wearily.
“Mama didn’t sound all that sick. And as far as I could tell, you were handling things just fine. Anyway, she was wrong about me. It wasn’t just a fling. I’d changed. I couldn’t be married anymore. I couldn’t even be the old Parker McGowan. I tried to tell Mama that, but she wouldn’t listen. She pitched a hissy and then she hung up on me.”
“And then she died,” Mary Bliss said. “She died alone. Erin ran away to look for you, and I went after her, and Meemaw died while we were both gone. Did you know that? She died wondering when you were coming home.”
Parker smiled. The purple rage was gone. He was tan and poised again. “It won’t work. No more guilt. Mama’s dead. You’re fine. Erin’s fine. And I’m out of here.”
He pounded on the driver’s seat back again. “Let’s go, buddy,” he called. “Time to move out.”
The Ethiopian’s war-weary eyes lit up. “What about that car? He’s blocking the way.”
They both looked at the Explorer. It had pulled within inches of the cab’s front bumper.
“Your boyfriend, there,” Parker said. “The detective. Is he gonna arrest me?”
“Eventually,” Mary Bliss said.
Parker reached into his breast pocket and brought out a wad of bills. He peeled off some twenty-dollar bills and handed them to the driver. “Back up. Lose him, and you keep the money.”
“Good deal.” The driver gestured to Mary Bliss. “You go now, lady.”
Parker sat back in his seat. “Tell Erin I’ll call her.”
“When?”
He looked annoyed. “On her birthday. September fourteenth, right?”
“Fifteenth,” Mary Bliss said, opening her door. “What about the rest? I want a divorce, you know.”
“Fine. Talk to my lawyer. He’ll know where to find me.”
Parker glanced at the black Explorer, and then at the house. The plainclothes cops began spilling out of the Weidmans’ front door, running now, dropping the pallbearer’s ruse.
From off in the distance, she heard the wail of police sirens. The cab’s motor raced, and it jerked backward. Mary Bliss had to jump for the curb to keep from being run over. The Ethiopian gunned the motor again, and the cab shot backward out of the Weidmans’ driveway, grazing the rear fender of Charlie’s Cadillac.
Out in the street, the driver threw the cab into gear and screeched off in a cloud of burning rubber. The Explorer roared to life and went careening out of the driveway and down the Weidmans’ street, in hot pursuit of the cab. Three police cruisers joined the race.
Mary Bliss stood in the driveway, watching until she could no longer see any of the cars. She was putting her engagement ring on her right-hand ring finger when she felt an arm wrap around her shoulders.
She looked up. Matt Hayslip stood beside her.
“I thought…you were in the Explorer. Going after Parker.”
“No. Not my job. Not anymore.” He squeezed her arm, kissed the top of her head.
“What is your job?”
“Taking care of you. And Erin. If you’ll have me.”
She looked down at her engagement ring, the diamond sparkling in the late afternoon light.
“Guess what? I’m an heiress. Eula left us two million dollars.”
“All right,” Matt said agreeably. “Then you can take care of me.”
Beyond the Grave
Chicken Salad
5 lbs. chicken breasts
2 qts. water
Parsley sprigs
1 large onion, quartered
1 tsp. seasoned salt
2 chicken bouillon cubes
In a large pot, bring water and seasoning to a boil, add chicken, lower heat, and simmer 40 minutes. Remove from heat, cool. Shred chicken and refrigerate.
Dressing
½ cup bottled Italian salad dressing
1 cup Duke’s mayonnaise
1 tbsp. white vinegar
1½ tsp. celery seed
2 tbsp. sugar
1/8 tsp. salt
Dash paprika
Blend well together.
Salad
Toss shredded chicken with one cup of dressing and let stand at least one hour to marinate.
Combine remaining dressing with:
½ cup sour cream
1 tbsp. honey
Add to chicken and mix well. May add canned water chestnut, blanched almonds, or chopped pecans.
Acknowledgments
Little Bitty Lies owes a whopping big thanks to the following folks who helped with research questions, advice, and general assistance: Ellen Tressler, who explained how mortgages work; Susie Deiters, who shared the original chicken salad recipe; Mickey Lloyd, who knows crime; Sue Hogan, who knows medicine; and Jeannie Trocheck, who knows insurance. Any errors or blunders are my fault and not theirs. I also owe a huge debt to the best damn editor in New York, Carolyn Marino, and to Stuart Krichevesky, the best damn agent in the world, who believed I could get away with murder. Thanks, guys.
About t
he Author
Mary Kay Andrews is a former journalist for the Atlanta Journal-Constitution. She lives in Atlanta. Visit her at: www.marykayandrews.com.
To receive notice of author events and new books by Mary Kay Andrews, sign up at www.authortracker.com.
Books by Mary Kay Andrews
Little Bitty Lies
Savannah Blues
Credits
Cover design by Mary Ackerman
Jacket illustration © 2003 Tsukushi
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
LITTLE BITTY LIES. Copyright © 2003 by Whodunnit, Inc. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition © MAY 2004 ISBN: 9780061827372
FIRST EDITION
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
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Table of Contents
Cover
Title page
Dedication
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Beyond the Grave Chicken Salad
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Books by Mary Kay Andrews
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
Little Bitty Lies Page 42
