by Maria Geraci
Georgia clamped her hand over Spencer’s arm, stopping him. “He’s . . . no one. Just a friend of one of Frida’s friends. He’s probably had too much to drink, is all.”
Spencer looked unconvinced.
“I never stole the film out of Shea Masterson’s nanny cam,” Bettina yelled. “Go ahead. Do a polygraph test. You’ll see I’m telling the truth.”
“Now, Bettina, you know the Whispering Bay Police Department doesn’t have a polygraph machine,” Zeke said.
“Then how am I supposed to prove my innocence when I’m being publicly attacked like this?” Bettina demanded.
A quiet rumble started from somewhere in another part of the room.
Georgia turned her attention to the commotion. Brenda was waving her hands wildly in the air. And Pilar looked like she was ready to burst a vessel.
“Now everyone, we need to be reasonable about this—”
“Boss,” Rusty 1 said, interrupting Zeke. Or maybe it was Rusty 2. “I think we got something bigger than a stolen film to worry about.”
Zeke sighed patiently. “What’s the problem?”
“Um,” Rusty (whichever one it was) looked uncomfortable with all the attention suddenly focused on him. “It looks like someone has stolen the Bunco cash, tumbler and all.”
24
Zeke jotted down some notes in his steno pad. “How much money was in that tumbler?” He’d taken his tie and jacket off and rolled his sleeves up three questions ago.
“About thirteen thousand dollars,” Shea said, twisting her hands. “At least, that was an estimate on last count.”
“When was that?” Zeke asked.
“Around eleven. Just before the video presentation.”
“Does this mean someone here is a thief?” Christy Pappas called out.
“It’s pointless to try to speculate anything right now,” Zeke said. “But one thing is certain, no one is leaving until you’ve given either me or one of my deputies a statement.”
“You’re not gonna strip-search us, are you?” asked Earl. He waved his cane in the air. “ ’Cause if anyone tries anything funny with me, I’m gonna shove this where the sun don’t shine!”
“Mr. Handy, no one is going to strip-search anyone,” Zeke admonished. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t rile up the crowd.”
Georgia sat in a fold-out chair, along with Frida and some of the other Babes. The waitstaff had stopped serving alcohol and were passing out bottles of water. Spencer had gone to the bathroom to freshen up and Georgia hadn’t seen him since.
“What are you going to do?” Frida asked.
“Tell the truth,” Georgia said automatically. But if she told the truth, then Spencer would know she’d been in the closet with Dave. And of course, he’d want to know exactly what they’d been doing in that closet. Oh, God. What was she going to do?
Frida rolled her eyes. “I mean about Spencer’s proposal. Are you going to say yes?”
She should say yes. It’s what she’d always wanted. “I don’t know what I’m going to say.”
“Really?” Frida looked at her with interest. “I thought it was a no-brainer.”
It had been a no-brainer. Until Dave had come along. But he’d stomped out of here madder than a hornet’s nest. She couldn’t even be sure she’d ever see him again. What was the proper protocol after a closet quickie?
It was their turn next. Zeke pulled up a chair. “Hello, Georgia, Frida,” he said giving them a tired smile.
“Fire away, Zeke; we have nothing to hide,” said Frida.
Spencer walked up behind Zeke. “Sheriff,” he said, extending his hand. “Spencer Moody, president of Moody Electronics. This is my CFO, Georgia Meyer and her sister, Frida Hampton. Surely, you don’t mean to detain us.” Georgia thought it was telling that Spencer had introduced her as his employee instead of his girlfriend. But then after tonight’s proposal debacle she supposed she couldn’t blame him.
“I know who these ladies are, Mr. Moody,” said Zeke. “And I’m not a sheriff, I’m the chief of police. I need to question everyone. Including you.”
“You can’t be serious,” Spencer said.
“I’m afraid I am.”
Ed appeared, putting his hand on Frida’s shoulder in a protective gesture. Georgia hadn’t seen him since they’d walked out of the closet. Her cheeks burned thinking about it. Ed wouldn’t say anything to Frida, would he? He nodded to Zeke. Oh, no. Zeke was going to ask Ed for his alibi and Ed was going to out her. It didn’t matter what she said.
Georgia froze.
“Ed, glad you can join us. Once I get a statement from you four, then you’re free to leave.” Zeke flipped to the next page in his notepad. “I’ll start with you, Mr. Moody. Where were you between the hours of eleven and eleven fifteen p.m.?”
“How should I know? I wasn’t looking at my watch. I only just got here.”
“When did you arrive at the party?”
“I came in while that movie was being shown.”
“The video started at exactly eleven p.m. Where were you prior to that?”
“I was pulling into the parking lot, I suppose.”
“Is there anyone who can verify that? Anyone you spoke to, or who spoke to you?”
Spencer shook his head. “The minute I pulled up I came straight inside. I didn’t stop to talk to anyone or even notice if anyone was around. I was in a bit of an excited rush, you see,” he said, glancing at Georgia.
She looked away, feeling guilty.
Frida was next. She’d been with Kitty and Pilar and Shea. They’d helped Shea set up the video, then got refills on their drinks.
“Georgia, where were you? With your sister?” Zeke asked.
“Um, no, not at that time, I don’t think,” she said elusively. “I was outside for a bit, talking to Ed.” She snuck a peek in Ed’s direction. He ignored her. Georgia could feel the back of her neck tingle. “I saw Kitty. She came out to tell us the movie was going to start.”
Zeke nodded. “So you came in to watch the film.”
This was it. She could tell the truth and crush Spencer’s feelings and give up any chance of ever marrying him. Or she could lie and hope that Ed might go along with it. It was probably too much to hope for. But she had to try.
“Um . . . could you repeat the question?”
Zeke looked at her strangely. “After Kitty told you the movie was about to start, what did you do? Come inside and watch it?”
“Not at that time. I . . . I think I went to the bathroom first.”
Zeke jotted this down in his notebook. “Was there anyone in there?”
“I think so. I really can’t recall.” Her throat started the squeezing thing again.
Zeke looked over at Ed. “What about you, Ed? You were outside talking to Georgia?”
“Yeah, that sounds right.”
“What were the two of you talking about?”
Neither Georgia nor Ed said anything.
“It’s not really important,” Zeke said, “but maybe it will help jog your memory about whom you might have seen, that sort of thing.”
“We talked about my painting,” Ed said finally.
“Anything else?” Zeke asked.
“Not that I recall.”
Georgia involuntarily let out a whoosh of air. Ed had just partially lied. He hadn’t told Zeke about the foreclosure notice. Maybe—
“You okay?” Zeke asked her.
“Huh? Yes, of course. Just a little thirsty, is all.” She took a big swig of her bottled water.
“So Kitty can verify that she saw you two, then?” Zeke asked Ed.
Ed nodded.
“After you and Georgia came back inside, what did you do?”
Ed didn’t answer right away. “Do I have to say?”
“I’m afraid so, Ed.”
Georgia’s knees began to shake. Ed wasn’t going to lie for her. And why should he? She’d been awful to him. She deserved this. But Spencer didn’t. The humiliation of
knowing he’d proposed to her just minutes after she’d been with another man would kill him.
“Zeke,” Georgia began weakly. “Can I talk to you in—”
Ed turned to Frida. “I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t want you to find out like this, but I went back out again to smoke. I know you thought I quit, but . . .” Ed shrugged.
Georgia held her breath.
“Baby, you know that’s so bad for you!” Frida said.
“I promise that was my last cigarette.”
“What were you about to say, Georgia?” Zeke asked.
She tried to talk, but she was too stunned.
“Georgia, did you have something else to say?” he repeated.
“No, nothing,” she squeaked.
Ed was lying. For her.
Zeke glanced between her and Ed and made another notation in his pad. “Anyone see you smoking, Ed?”
Ed shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“After you had your cigarette, you came back inside?”
“Yeah, when I came back into the room, that video was on.”
One of the Rustys came up and whispered something in Zeke’s ear. Zeke stood. “Okay, I think that about covers it. You four are free to leave.”
“Just don’t leave town,” Rusty added.
Spencer frowned. “You’re kidding, right?”
Rusty’s ears turned pink. “Yeah, I’ve just always wanted to say that.”
“Good God,” Spencer mumbled after Zeke and Rusty had gone on to interview another group. “It’s like Andy and Barney in some sort of Mayberry nightmare.”
“I think Zeke is doing a great job,” Frida said.
“He can’t honestly think any of us would risk prison for a measly thirteen grand,” complained Spencer.
“Thirteen grand is a lot of money,” Ed said quietly.
Kitty and Pilar rejoined them. “Bettina is still sticking to her story. She says she has absolutely no idea where that video came from and that she’s actually sad no one is going to see Shea’s montage piece on the history of Whispering Bay,” Kitty said.
“That bitch! I can’t believe anyone is buying that,” said Pilar. “She’s over there crying on Zeke’s shoulder saying we ‘stole’ her dress!”
Georgia looked away. Despite what Georgia had said to Bettina earlier tonight, in a way the Babes did steal her dress.
“Now that the emphasis is on the stolen money, no one really cares about the video switch. Bettina is going to come out of this smelling like a rose,” said Kitty.
“Who do you think could have stolen that money?” Frida asked.
Kitty shook her head. “Who knows? Poor Shea. She’s kicking herself for not having secured it better. But who would have dreamed someone would take it?”
“I feel like this is all my fault,” Georgia said. “My dress is what set Bettina off tonight.”
“It’s not your fault,” Frida said.
Pilar nodded. “She would have found some other excuse to do the video switch. And no matter what she says, we know she did it.”
Steve came up and took Kitty by the hand. “Let’s go home, babe. I’m beat.”
Kitty glanced around the half-empty room. “Where’s Dave?”
Georgia tried not to look interested in his answer.
Steve shrugged. “He’s a big boy. He can find his way to our house.”
Kitty gave them all a hug good-bye.
“I should round up Nick,” said Pilar. “We actually hired a babysitter for tonight and she’s probably wondering where we are.”
Frida and Ed began to follow Steve and Kitty out the door. Frida turned to Georgia. “Are you coming home with us?”
Spencer looked on with keen interest.
Georgia nodded. “I’ll meet you by the car.”
Spencer didn’t bother hiding his disappointment. “I guess that means you won’t be joining me tonight. I have a room in Destin. They’ll hold it for us,” he added hopefully.
“Not tonight, Spencer. I need time to think.”
He covered his nose with his hand and wiggled it, like he was testing once again to make sure it wasn’t broken. The gesture made Georgia feel like shit. Where had Dave stomped off to?
She turned and took one last look at the old senior center. The twinkling lights had been turned off, and the harsher, overhead lights now blared down on the half-empty room. Some of the balloons had lost their helium and had made a sad descent to the floor. The waitstaff kicked them out of their way as they picked up dirty glasses and dishware off the tables.
Georgia sighed. It had been one hell of a roller coaster. But for the life of her she couldn’t figure out if it had been the best or the worst ride of her life.
25
Pilar thumped her fist against the scarred wooden table but no one in the noisy room paid her any attention. Looking exasperated, she pulled a big cowbell out of her purse and clanged it in the air. Georgia recognized it as the bell they used during Bunco. “This emergency meeting of the Bunco Babes is now called to order,” Pilar announced.
The room went silent.
“That’s better,” she said, nodding her head in satisfaction.
After tossing and turning all night, Georgia had driven to Spencer’s hotel in Destin and they’d had breakfast together. He hadn’t pushed her about the proposal, but their conversation had been strained. If she told him about Dave, then Spencer would be devastated. He might even take back the proposal. On the other hand, if she didn’t tell him about Dave, it would be like starting their marriage out with a lie.
Frida had called her at the hotel and asked her to come back to the Bistro for the meeting.
“But I’m not a Babe,” Georgia had protested.
“Not technically, but this involves you too,” her sister had replied. Spencer had driven back with her, but he’d promised to stay in the upstairs apartment with Ed, out of the way. Georgia hadn’t had a moment alone with Ed. She wondered what he must be thinking about the whole closet thing. And she was dying to ask him why he’d covered for her with Zeke.
“So,” began Pilar, “we know that Bettina had to have gotten a hold of Shea’s tape—”
“I feel terrible about that tape,” interrupted Shea. “I should have noticed it was gone from my nanny cam.”
“There’s no need to apologize to us,” said Liz. “It’s Bettina Bailey we’re mad at. Not you.”
“Maybe you won’t feel so charitable when you see this.” Shea pulled a newspaper out of her bag. “The Whispering Bay Gazette is coming out with a special Sunday evening edition. I was able to get an advanced copy.”
She unfolded the paper and held it up for everyone to see. The caption read: “Bunco Babes Gone Wild.” Beneath it was a photo montage. Some of the pictures appeared to be taken directly from stills of the video. A few of them were “reaction” shots from the crowd. There were no boob shots, but plenty of photos of the Babes drinking and laughing.
“Oh my God,” said Mimi. She grabbed the paper from Shea’s hands.
“The article is even worse,” said Shea.
Mimi began to read. “Men, have you ever wondered what your wife really does at Bunco?” She paused and glanced tersely around the room. “A videotape shown during Saturday night’s Black Tie Bunco Bash, the first in a series of fund-raisers hosted by the questionable Friends of the Rec Center committee exposes the truth behind the fast-paced dice game sweeping the nation.”
Georgia cringed. The rest of the room didn’t look very happy either.
“Who would have thought that a bunch of bored housewives—”
“Hey!” interjected Pilar, “some of us have careers, you know. Or at least we did.”
Mimi glared at Pilar.
“Sorry,” Pilar muttered. “Keep reading.”
“Who would have that thought a bunch of bored housewives,” Mimi continued, “would put any Girls Gone Wild video to shame.” She slapped the paper down on the table. “This is such bullshit!”
> “That was the good part,” Shea muttered. “The article goes on to say that all we do is gossip and get drunk. And”—Shea paused to take a deep breath—“it quotes Bettina Bailey as saying that her new group, the Bunco Bunnies is collecting canned food for the holiday food drive.”
There was silence.
“Last year at Christmas we raised money for the children’s toy drive,” Brenda finally said.
“And don’t forget the walk we did for cancer research,” Lorraine added.
“It doesn’t matter what we’ve done,” said Shea. “The fact is we looked like idiots on that tape and now the whole town thinks we’re a bunch of degenerates.” She gave them a pained look. “Our new sub Carrie called me this afternoon and asked that we take her off our list.”
“This is my fault,” said Georgia. “If I hadn’t challenged Bettina Bailey—”
“We haven’t done anything wrong,” said Kitty. “All we’re guilty of is having a good time. Okay, so maybe we do gossip a little too much during our games. And maybe we shouldn’t have said those things about the Bunnies, but it’s probably nothing compared to what Bettina runs around saying about us behind our backs. The only difference is her stuff isn’t on tape. So what if we drank a little too much that night and flashed each other? We’re a social club, not a charity organization. But that doesn’t mean we haven’t done some nice things for this community. Look at all the work we’ve done on Black Tie Bunco. We’ve raised fifty thousand dollars! What other group in town can say that?”
“Kitty’s right,” said Tina.
The Babes all nodded in agreement.
“Not exactly,” said Shea. “I have some more bad news.”
“Oh, no,” said Brenda. “These emergency meetings are never good.”
“A couple of our corporate sponsors called me today. They’re questioning whether or not they should go through with their donations. Milt Davidson from Davidson Insurance told me his company doesn’t want to be associated with pornography. They were going to donate five thousand dollars.”
“Pornography?” Tina gasped.
Pilar’s face turned red. “My sucky law firm was going to kick in ten grand. I was told this afternoon to be at work bright and early Tuesday morning for a meeting with the partners to discuss my inappropriate behavior during Breast-Fest.”
