I must have looked startled, because he nodded in my direction. “Yep. There was a neighborhood here. Long time ago. Mostly rented houses that got bought up and bulldozed to build businesses. My daddy owned this land, and he refused to sell, so here I sit.”
“Go on,” I said.
“Well, like I said, I got to be a pretty fair mechanic. Could take apart an engine, figure out what was wrong with her, and put her back together, good as new, by the time I was in tenth grade. Mister Louis heard about me, and he came out here, looking for somebody to take care of his old truck.”
“Why you?” I asked. “I don’t mean to be rude or insensitive, but you’re telling me about segregated schools and so on. Why wouldn’t he have gone to another mechanic?”
Sly’s grin matched his name. “Don’t rightly know, Miss Glory. But I heard rumors he got into a tussle with the one other mechanic in town, and refused to let the man touch his truck. Something about Louis calling him a ‘low-life cheat,’ or some such.”
The story explained a lot of things about Uncle Louis. I remembered him as a loner, a man who kept his own counsel and followed his own path.
Jake nudged Sly to continue. “So he brought you his truck?”
“Sure did.” Sly got up and refilled out cups, talking over his shoulder as he walked into the kitchen. “I did right by him, and he did right by me. Paid me what the work was worth and kept coming back.”
He turned off the coffeepot and settled back in his chair.
“We got to talking one day, right before I graduated. I was trying to figure out what to do with myself, and your uncle was good enough to listen to a scared kid. The Vietnam War was heating up, and I knew I wasn’t going to college. I knew the draft board would be coming for me.”
“What did he say?”
“Told me I’d get a better assignment if I enlisted, and with my skills I could get assigned to a motor pool. Might even get to stay stateside.”
He shook his head. “I listened to part of his advice. I enlisted, and I did get into the motor pool, but I volunteered to go to Vietnam. I came back just before my daddy passed, and I’ve been here ever since.”
“Did you see Uncle Louis after you came back?” I asked. There were a lot of years between 1966 and Uncle Louis’s death in 1987.
“From time to time.”
Sly got up again, going to the kitchen for another doggy treat. Without saying so, he made it clear the subject was closed.
I let it go. For now. I knew there was more to the story, but he’d already given me a lot to think about.
Sly had kept his part of the bargain. Now it was my turn.
Chapter 27
“YOUR TURN,” SLY SAID, GIVING VOICE TO MY thoughts. “You promised me the story of that parrot.”
I stalled. “Bluebeard? I inherited him from Uncle Louis, along with the shop. Didn’t you already know that?” Giving up my secret, adding another person to the circle, was difficult.
Jake reached over and patted my hand where it rested on my knee. He knew what was coming, what I had to confess, and he was trying to let me know it was all right.
Not that it was. There was nothing all right about telling someone my shop was haunted by the ghost of my dead uncle.
“I knew that, Miss Glory. But what I don’t know is how that parrot knew my name.”
“I assume because he heard Uncle Louis call you by name.” It was the obvious explanation. If you didn’t count the possibility that it was Uncle Louis.
Sly shook his head. “Makes sense,” he said. “Except I never was in that shop while Louis was alive. There’s no way Bluebeard ever heard him talk to me.”
That stopped me cold. Jake squeezed my hand, but I couldn’t tell if he meant to be supportive or if the news had startled him as much as it had me.
There was no other explanation. No excuse I could use.
It had been Uncle Louis talking. Greeting his friend, and calling him by his given name, the way one would a youngster.
“I, uh, I didn’t know that, Sly. I just assumed you’d been in the shop, and that’s how Bluebeard knew you.”
Sly held my gaze for a moment, and I had to look away. I had never been a very good liar, and I couldn’t stand up under his scrutiny.
“Did you?”
I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
Bobo got up from his place on the floor and padded over to me. He laid his head against my knee as though he sensed my distress and wanted to offer his support.
Sly continued to look at me, his face a study in patience, as I struggled to adjust. I knew about Uncle Louis, I accepted his presence. I’d told Karen, and Linda. Felipe and Ernie. Jake. This list grew longer as time went by. Even Riley knew.
So why was it so hard to tell Sly?
Because everyone else, everyone who knew so far was an old friend, with the exception of Jake. And each of them was someone I felt close to, including Jake, even with all his secrets.
Sly was a different story. Listening to him talk about his life, about how he’d come to know Uncle Louis, was like a living, breathing history lesson. It was a direct link to Uncle Louis, the times he lived in, and the life he’d led.
Somehow, telling Sly would open a door I would never be able to close, and it scared me.
I drew myself up and swallowed the fear. If I could face down a killer, this shouldn’t be that hard.
Even if it was.
I didn’t know where to start. There wasn’t any easy way.
“I hoped so,” I admitted. “It would have explained things. But I knew better. It was Uncle Louis, Sly. He was talking to you.”
“Hot damn!”
It wasn’t the response I was expecting.
“Beggin’ your pardon, Miss Glory,” Sly continued before I could respond. “Excuse my French, but I shoulda known. If anybody was going to hang around, I would’ve bet it would be Louis Georges.”
“What do you mean?” I was still too stunned by his reaction to figure out what he was saying.
“Mister Louis had a bit of a reputation, you might say. He didn’t shy away from stirrin’ things up a bit, as it were. Sometimes I think he tried to provoke people, just to see what they’d do. But he stood up for what he thought was right, too. Like I said, stirrin’ things up.”
“Uncle Louis?”
“Yep.” Sly gave me one of his gap-tooth grins. “The very one. Glad to hear he’s still around.”
I was struggling with the concept of Uncle Louis as a pot-stirrer when my cell phone rang. I glanced at the display and apologized to my companions.
“I have to take this.”
“Glory.” The exhausted voice on the other end was Anita Nelson. “Julie wanted me to call you first thing.”
Her voice cracked with emotion. “Rose Ann Nelson arrived about twenty minutes ago, and she’s the most beautiful baby in the world. Mother and daughter are both doing just fine.”
“Congratulations!” I said. “And tell Julie I send my love. When can she have visitors?”
“Most any time, the doctor says. They’re going to keep her here tonight, let her get some rest before she takes the baby home. But she said she’d love to see you, if you have time.”
I realized that neither Julie nor her mother knew about my car, and this certainly wasn’t the time to tell them.
“I think I can come by in a little bit. I just have a couple things to take care of first.”
“Of course.”
There was an unfinished feeling to the conversation, and I asked Anita if there was anything else.
“Yeah,” she said, “there is. I just want to thank you for this. If it hadn’t been for you, I don’t think Julie would have ever gotten away from that horrible man. And I wouldn’t have my beautiful granddaughter. You don’t know how much this means to me.”
She broke the connection, but I couldn’t have said anything anyway. Not with that giant lump in my throat.
Sly raised his eyebrows in question, and J
ake asked, “Baby?”
I nodded mutely.
“When?” Sly asked, and I remembered the conversation at my place on Saturday.
“When can we see her?” Jake asked.
I finally managed to regain the ability to speak. “The baby arrived about twenty minutes ago, according to Julie’s mom. And she can have visitors most any time. She asked me to come by, but I didn’t promise, since I don’t have a car?” I said, letting my voice rise into a question at the end.
“On the way home,” Jake answered. “If you don’t mind my tagging along.”
“Seeing as how you’re my transportation for the foreseeable future, I really can’t object, can I?”
I looked back at Sly. “You missed by a few hours. Still, that’s pretty close.”
“Thanks. Did I hear you right? You don’t have any car now?”
I gestured toward the door. “Just the one sitting out there,” I said. “I don’t think I’ll be driving it again, and looking at cars this afternoon just depressed me. Anything I like is way more than I want to pay, and anything in my price range looks like a rolling death trap.”
“So I’m her wheels,” Jake said lightly. “At least until the insurance company decides what they’re doing.”
Sly shook his head as he stood up. “Mr. Big-Shot Fowler won’t have a decent deal on that lot, but I might have a couple ideas where to find you something. Just let me give this some thought.”
He made a shooing motion with his hands. “Go on now. Miss Julie will be wanting to show off that new little baby. ’Sides, it’s time for me to be makin’ supper, ’fore I eat another one of those muffins.”
THE HOSPITAL, LIKE EVERYTHING IN KEYHOLE BAY, was only a few minutes’ drive. In a town only five miles in any direction, nothing was very far from anything. Except in the summer, when tourist vehicles packed the main drag, slowing traffic to a crawl during the day. We would get a preview next week, but for now the streets were clear.
We found Julie’s room crowded with her family and friends. Anita hovered at her bedside, patting her daughter’s arm and beaming at the bundle resting in the crook of Julie’s elbow, oblivious to anything else.
Stan, Julie’s dad, stood awkwardly against the window on the far side of the room, as three young women crowded around the bed, cooing at Julie and the baby. It sounded sort of like a flock of doves.
The women looked familiar, but I wasn’t sure if I knew them or just recognized the type. They were near Julie’s age, all wearing engagement or wedding rings. One of the rings, larger and flashier than the rest, caught the light and sparkled dramatically.
That triggered a memory, and I realized who they were: Julie’s high school crew, the other cheerleaders on her squad. They had come to Southern Treasures in a group last fall to buy memorial T-shirts and gossip about Julie. I hoped they were past that now.
From the door, all I could see in Julie’s arms was a roll of blankets and a teeny stocking cap. I assumed there was a baby in the middle of the roll, based on the crowd around the new mother, but I couldn’t really tell from where I stood.
Jake hesitated at the doorway, taking stock of the situation. He headed straight for Stan Nelson, the two exchanging a greeting in low voices. Stan nodded, and walked toward me with Jake.
As they reached the door, Stan looked over at his wife. He said “Anita” twice without a reaction.
“Grandma.”
Anita’s head shot up, and Stan laughed. “You’ve been waiting for that forever, haven’t you? I’m going down to the cafeteria with Jake here to get some coffee. Can I bring you anything?”
“I’d love a cup of tea,” she said. “But take your time.”
He turned to me, including me in the offer. I shook my head.
Anita finally caught sight of me hovering in the doorway and waved me into the room. “I’m so glad to see you, Glory.” She enveloped me in an awkward hug.
She released me and went back to her post at the head of Julie’s bed, pulling me with her. “Isn’t she beautiful?”
I wanted to ask whether she meant Julie or the baby, but I was certain I knew the answer. Julie looked exhausted, her hair damp and stringy despite being freshly combed into a tidy ponytail. Her normally pale face was nearly as white as the sheets, faint blue veins visible beneath her porcelain skin, and her eyes drooped with fatigue.
Somehow, even with fatigue pulling her down into the bed, there was a light that glowed in her shadowed eyes when she looked at the baby in her arms.
Close up, Rose Ann looked like every other baby, in my limited experience. Impossibly tiny, her blotchy skin wrinkled like an old woman’s, a scowl scrunching up her face like one of those dried-apple dolls.
Beautiful was not a word that came instantly to mind.
Unless you were her grandmother. Or her mother.
Julie smiled up at me when I moved closer. “She’s perfect,” she whispered. “Absolutely perfect.”
Chapter 28
AFTER THE TURMOIL OF THE PAST WEEK, A QUIET Wednesday was a much-needed break. The early birds of the spring break crowd had arrived, and a steady flow of customers came through the shop, looking for their treasure.
As an added enticement, I’d added a miniature chest on the counter, filled with inexpensive trinkets. Every youngster took home a memento of Southern Treasures, courtesy of my treasure grab bags.
Between Bluebeard and the treasures, I had plenty of customers through the door. Sales were slow, but more than adequate for this early in the holiday season. Or they would have been, if I wasn’t looking at the necessity of buying another car.
By the end of day, I hadn’t heard from Karen in nearly two days, an unheard-of gap in our usual twice-a-day phone calls. She finally called just before I closed up for the day.
“Sorry I’ve been out of touch,” she said. “Riley and I were down in Pensacola all day, talking to lawyers.”
“Ugh. Sounds miserable. Although,” I said, “it could be worse.”
“How?” Karen’s usual upbeat, energetic tone was gone, replaced with weary skepticism.
I told her exactly how much worse it could be.
“Are you okay?” she asked, shocked, when I told her about the fire. “You didn’t get hurt, did you?”
“I’m fine. But the Civic is a loss. I’m waiting to hear from the insurance company about what they’re going to do. The last thing I heard was that they have to wait for the fire investigators to determine the source of the fire. Which is a polite way, according to Jake, of saying they want to be sure I didn’t torch it myself before they pay off.”
“Jake?”
I realized how much Karen had missed in a single day. “Hang on,” I said. “I’m going to close up, then I’ll fill you in on everything.”
I set the phone down long enough to turn over the “Open” sign and lock the doors.
I was on the phone nearly an hour, bringing Karen up to speed on all that had gone on the previous day. I told her what I’d learned about Sly and Uncle Louis, and ended with the news about Rose Ann.
“At least there was some good news to end the day,” she said, and I agreed.
Karen promised to pick me up for dinner the next night. It was Ernie’s turn to cook, and the boys would want a full report on everything that had happened since Karen had raced out of the house to rescue Bobby.
And there would be a lot to tell.
I trudged upstairs and dug through the refrigerator, looking for something to cook for dinner. I hadn’t been to the grocery store in several days, and my choices were limited. I could either make ramen noodles, or I could walk over to Frank’s Foods.
I was tempted to settle for the noodles, but I didn’t have any fresh fruit or vegetables for Bluebeard. I dragged a shopping bag out of the closet, stuck my wallet in the back pocket of my jeans, and went downstairs.
As I crossed the shop, Bluebeard whistled to get my attention. He’d been busy all day, entertaining customers with his squawks and whis
tles. He called everyone a “pretty girl” or “pretty boy,” and occasionally made wisecracks from the safety of his perch, which allowed him to stay out of reach of small hands.
I walked over and gave him a pet. “Yes, you were the star attraction today, weren’t you?”
He preened, arching his neck and looking down at me from his perch. No false modesty there.
I gave him a biscuit. “I’ll have something more in a little bit,” I promised. “But I have to go to the store. You take care of things here, okay?”
“Sylvester.”
The single word stopped me in my tracks. I turned back around and looked at Bluebeard.
“Sylvester?” This time it was a question, though I wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to know.
“I saw Sylvester yesterday,” I answered. “He was very happy to see you, Uncle Louis.”
“Good boy.”
“Yes, he was a good boy. He’s not a boy anymore, he’s a grown man who’s had an amazing life, but he sure remembers you. Says you helped him out a lot when he was younger.”
“Good boy,” he repeated softly.
I petted him again. “I think you were a pretty good boy yourself.”
The late afternoon sun was still warm, and I broke a sweat halfway to Frank’s.
Cheryl waved at me when I came in the door, and I waved back as I grabbed a basket and headed for the produce section. Bluebeard could eat most any kind of fruit or vegetable, and fortunately we shared many favorites. Carrots and apples were high on his list, along with bananas, and I put a few of each in my basket, along with salad greens and a bell pepper.
Cruising the meat case, I spotted a small package of chicken legs. Oven fried with a green salad, they’d make dinner with enough left over for lunch the next day.
No need to worry about dinner tomorrow, that was Ernie’s job. All I had to provide was conversation, and I had plenty of that to share.
Chapter 29
AS IT TURNED OUT, KAREN DIDN’T NEED TO PICK ME up for dinner on Thursday. Late that morning I got a call from Jake. “Ernie just called and invited me to join you for dinner tonight,” he said. “So you can ride with me, if you’d like.”
Murder Hooks a Mermaid Page 18
