“Blackwood,” the woman finished for her.
“Yes. As I was saying, Mr. Blackwood said I could pick them up today.”
The teacher rocked back and propped a fist on one hip. “We don’t commission our students’ artwork. You must be mistaken. The Gypsy Cotton Gallery is holding an auction, that’s something entirely different. They’re working on welded farm animal sculptures.”
“That’s what I said. We’re here to see a man about a sheep.”
“Who did you say you were again?” The teacher pushed a button near the door, and the crackle of an intercom came from the classroom’s ceiling.
“Main office,” a disembodied voice droned. “How can we assist you, Ms. Coffman?”
“I have two strange women standing outside my classroom. Can you please send security?”
Sera drew herself up, which in hindsight probably wasn’t the best idea, because the teacher jabbed at the button again. “And hurry. They seem to be threatening me.”
Good grief. Certainly, people had a reason to be wary of strangers with all the bad things that had happened in schools over the past few years, but this was Summer Shoals, not Los Angeles.
But apparently the school-employed guards were as on the ball as any Hollywood star security she’d ever seen because a blue-uniformed man strode up, his face grim and handcuffs jangling from his belt. “Thank you, Ms. Coffman. I’ll take this from here.”
The teacher slipped back inside her classroom, and the guard took Sera and Maggie each by the upper arms. “If you ladies would be so kind as to come with me.” His grip didn’t hurt, but it was certainly firm. He wasn’t taking any chances. Sera’s chest swelled with pride that he saw them as a threat.
He led them back the way they’d come and across the lobby to an office fronted with glass. Once inside, he told the receptionist, “I assume the principal will want to talk with these two.”
“Yes, take them back to her office.”
He urged them around the chest-high reception desk, and Sera felt about like she had the time she’d been caught rolling and selling clove cigarettes when she was fifteen. Although her parents had been impressed with her enterprising entrepreneurship, the school administration hadn’t been nearly so forgiving.
The Summer Shoals High School principal was a very put-together woman who, if Sera had to guess, was around her same age. But while Sera lived in comfy yoga clothes and breezy skirts, this woman was dressed in a navy tailored pantsuit that brooked no nonsense.
“Please sit.” The principal’s voice floated on a soft, Southern drawl but carried the edge of a razor. Sera and Maggie sat as if someone had dropped their puppet strings.
“Would you ladies care to tell me why you were loitering in our hallways?”
Loitering had such a negative connotation. And somehow, Sera didn’t think this woman would buy into the story she’d told the teacher. Time to improvise. “We were just taking a quick tour. You see, I’m new to the area and very interested in the education system. I’ve heard Summer Shoals is a gold district.”
The principal’s hawk-like gaze softened slightly. “Yes, we have an excellent reputation around the state. We hire only the best staff and teachers.”
Sera clasped her hands against her chest. “I’m so glad to hear that. You see, I have educational experience in California and I was hoping to substitute teach here.”
“What type of experience? What subject area is your certification in?”
Maggie slid Sera a look that asked if she’d kept details to herself or was pulling another minister-of-record schtick. Sera avoided her scrutiny and concentrated on convincing the woman across the desk.
“I’ve…uh…mainly been involved in the dramatic arts, but I’d be interested in subbing in any academic area.”
The principal tapped her pen on the desktop. “We could use more substitute teachers. In fact, I’ve got two teachers going out on maternity leave soon.” The woman’s face softened. “Where did you say you taught?”
“Los Angeles.”
“Well, if you can teach there, I’d say you can teach anywhere.” The woman’s eyes widened. Clearly she was thinking the rougher parts of L.A., not Beverly Hills. “But you have to pass a background check.”
“No problem at all.” Sera’s chest expanded with hope, but she resisted glancing at Maggie. “How long does it normally take? I’m so eager to get back into the classroom. There’s nothing more rewarding than helping unleash the potential of young minds.”
The woman nodded. “We need someone like you around here. Talk to the receptionist on your way out. She has a gift for expediting this kind of thing.”
When she and Maggie filed out of the principal’s office, Sera tingled with excitement.
Outside, Abby Ruth already had her big dually idling as they approached. “I’ve been waiting out here for nearly twenty minutes. Where’d y’all disappear to? You left me high and dry sneaking through the band hall. Lord, give me a field house any day, but not a room that smells of smoldering wool, nerd sweat and burnt marshmallows.”
Sera couldn’t help but laugh, but Abby Ruth just scowled, apparently not seeing the humor in any of it.
Abby Ruth shook a finger at her. “Have you ever heard Sousa’s ‘Stars and Stripes Forever’ from five feet away? It ain’t pleasant. Cymbals pounding me senseless and off-key squawks. Lord, I thought a darned pterodactyl was about to land. My ears were ringing so hard by the time I escaped, I had to come out here to recuperate. On top of that, I thought y’all were in trouble somewhere!”
“Sorry it took so long,” Maggie said. “Not only did we not get in trouble, somehow Sera just landed a job.”
Hearing those words made Sera’s insides swirl with pleasure. Not just for making another stride in their investigation, but also for the opportunity to make a difference. Even if for a little while.
Chapter 14
When she, Sera and Abby Ruth returned to Summer Haven, Maggie was still dumbfounded by Sera’s improv with the principal. Where on earth would Sera conjure up teaching credentials? Maybe it was better if Maggie didn’t ask.
But for now, their investigation was stalled until Sera could get inside the high school again.
The phone rang, and Maggie snatched it from the cradle as she walked by. Okay, fine, she was skipping through the kitchen after Bruce had asked her out and she and Sera made it through the interrogation at the high school. Investigating stuff was just so…so…darned energizing. Clearly, she’d missed her true calling. “Hello,” she sang into the receiver.
“Hi, Mags.”
“Lil? How are things going there? Are you okay?”
“Depends on who you ask.”
Maggie’s mood dipped. Why was she calling? Was there any way she knew about the Tucker? Had Angelina somehow snooped inside the garage and seen something? First the prison badge. Now this. That woman was a menace. Or maybe it wasn’t Angelina this time. Maybe, God forbid, the body shop guy made mention of the car to someone and word had leaked out.
Lil said, “I’m going to need you to pick me up.”
“When? Oh my goodness. This is great. When are you getting out?” Please, please, please, don’t let it be before we get the car back.
“Right now.”
“Today now?”
“Yes. They’ve already started processing the paperwork. I should be ready to go by the time you get here.”
The room seemed to spin, and the sinking feeling in Maggie’s gut made her wish she’d prioritized getting the car fixed over all of this sleuthing she and the girls had been doing. Her goose was cooked now. Not just cooked but charred.
“Of course I’ll be there.” It was amazing news, but boy if she didn’t feel like she’d eaten a bad pot of crawfish all of the sudden. “How did this happen so quickly?”
“Honey, we can talk about all that after you pick me up,” Lil said, her voice not nearly as chipper as it should’ve been. “We have a lifetime to catch up. Just ge
t your fanny in gear and come get me.”
Maggie hung up the phone with a swirl of excitement, anticipation and flat-out fear. One glance around the kitchen reminded her that they didn’t keep things quite as pristine as Lil had. Maggie had always planned to put money aside to bring someone in to professionally clean Summer Haven before Lil came home, but there was no time for that now.
“Sera! Abby Ruth!” Maggie called out.
Sera came walking through the kitchen door. Then from upstairs, Abby Ruth bellowed, “What’s the hurry?”
“Quick,” Maggie hollered back. “Come down here.”
A moment later, they were in the kitchen and Maggie didn’t mince words. “Lil’s coming home. Today.”
“No way,” Sera said. “This is much earlier than a normal release. She hasn’t served eighty-seven percent of her sentence yet.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s happening, and this place is a wreck. I need y’all to get the house shipshape while I go to pick her up.”
“What will you drive?” Abby Ruth asked.
Sera’s eyes went wide. “The Tucker is still in the shop.”
“I know. Lil will just have to settle for being picked up in my truck. Sera, I need you to call Dennis Forehand and sweet-talk him. We need that car back in a hurry. He wanted two weeks, agreed to ten days, but I need it now. He has to pull some all-nighters for us. Something.” She swung toward Abby Ruth. “I figure with the ninety-minute drive to the prison and another hour and a half back, we’ll be home at four o’clock at the earliest. Can you get this place looking like Lil left it?”
Abby Ruth shrugged. “I wasn’t here when she left, but yeah, we’ll take care of it.”
“Got it,” Sera said. “We still have to figure out how to get the hood ornament made too. Maybe I can get Tassy to give me some names of local artisans who might be able to whip something up.”
Maggie’s heart expanded with her love for these two women. Wasn’t always easy living together, but they came through for one another when it counted. “Y’all are angels. What would I have done without you since Lil’s been away? Heck, what would I do without you, period?”
Sera put an arm around Maggie. “Don’t be silly. That’s what friends are for. Plus, I have an idea about how we might be able to fix the hood ornament.”
Maggie picked up the phone and dialed the local market. “Hi. I need Lil’s standard order sent over early this week. Can you make that happen today?”
“A cake!” Sera said. “I can make a cake too.”
“Add a cake mix and vanilla ice cream to the list,” Maggie said before hanging up. “I guess we do need to celebrate in some way.” Thank goodness someone in this house was thinking straight.
“Not sure that’s such a great idea,” Abby Ruth said. “I mean, she didn’t want anyone to know where she’s been, right?”
Sera waved away Abby Ruth’s words. “We’ll just make it a small welcome home party between the four of us.”
“We’ll have to steer the conversation away from the Tucker and our cases,” Maggie said.
“Easier said than done,” Abby Ruth said. “If I’ve gotta keep my mouth shut about everything, I might be better off moving out.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re family and Lil will love having a full house.”
“I’m not so sure about that. Lil and I have what you might call different life philosophies.” Abby Ruth kicked one boot over the other and stared up at the ceiling, clearly worried. Quite frankly, Maggie wondered how long Abby Ruth and Lil Summer Fairview could last in the same house.
Her chest tight, Lillian gripped the paper bag containing all her personal belongings. They’d taken them from her the day she’d checked in to Walter Stiles Prison Camp. It seemed so long ago.
She ripped open the staples and checked through everything.
“Everything there?” The guard looked down her glasses at Lil.
Lil stopped rummaging through the bag and straightened. “Yes. I was just looking.”
The guard waved a hand toward the restroom at the end of the hall. “You can change into your civvies down there. Leave your uniforms in the hamper. Unless you want to buy a set.” She pushed a price sheet Lil’s way.
“Fifty dollars for used clothes?” Lil wondered how many inmates actually wanted to wear this stuff home. They weren’t built for comfort, that was for sure. And the style was nothing to brag about. “No, thank you. I’ll be fine.”
“Suit yourself,” the guard said.
Lil hugged the bag to her chest and scurried into the bathroom. She clicked the lock and breathed in the moment of privacy. Home. She was actually going home.
The peach suit she’d worn when she arrived at the prison camp was summer weight and the wrong color for this early in the year, but it was all she had. This outfit had always been one of her favorites. Her fingers lingered over the fabric. As fine and clean as she remembered. She lifted it to her face and inhaled the familiar powdery scent of her perfume. The perfume Harlan bought for her every Valentine’s Day. No lingering smell of too much chlorinated cleaner from the prison laundry.
She couldn’t strip out of the ugly prison-issued khaki fast enough, dropping the whole kit and caboodle in the plastic hamper. Good riddance.
The light silk pintuck blouse felt so good against her skin. She unbuttoned and unzipped the suit skirt and stepped gingerly into it. But it quickly became obvious that no amount of wiggling her hind parts would make her skirt fit today. She tugged the zipper up as far as it would go, but there was still a good three-inch gap between the pull and her waistband.
And the warden thought Lil had been depressed before? That was nothing compared to realizing she’d become a frumpy fat chick after seventy years of watching her waistline. It was enough to plummet anyone into the depths of darkness.
There was no way she was dragging those ugly khakis back out of the hamper though. No, ma’am.
She slipped her arms into the blazer. Thank God it still fit. She unrolled the slim peach-colored leather belt. But rather than wrapping it around the outside of the jacket like normal, she pulled the belt tight around the top of the skirt to keep it up. She tippy-toed and twisted but was too short to see her handiwork in the mirror, but the blazer should cover the gap. It would have to do. Even too tight, it was so much better than the three shades of khaki that had clashed with her skin every dad-burned day for the past few months.
She slipped her feet into her shoes and found it challenging to walk in the modest-height heels after tromping around in those manly steel-toed shoes for nearly a year. She stepped gingerly across the tile floor.
When she came out of the restroom, a different guard was there waiting for her with a clipboard and a box. “Okay. This is it. I need your John Hancock in three places, then you’ll be on your way.”
Lil initialed and signed the forms.
“Here you go.” The guard shoved the box of the few things—a comb, a couple of paperbacks and an inferior hand lotion—she’d accumulated while she’d been an inmate. “You’re free to go.”
A zing of excitement coursed through Lil. It was really happening.
She walked to the door and waited for the guard to hit the buzzer. Then she pushed through the heavy metal and stepped outside. The buzzer still tingling her senses like a wave of electricity, she stood there for a moment, almost afraid if she moved too quickly she’d wake up and it would all be a dream. But the door clicked behind her, and everything was still the same. She walked down the sidewalk toward the parking lot.
Freedom.
She inhaled a deep breath of slightly humid Georgia air. It did smell so much sweeter out here. A bright clump of forsythia waved like a cheerful greeting committee as she made her way to a wooden bench at the end of the walk. Trees were blooming, starting a new year of growth.
Tears danced in her eyes, and her chin trembled. The swirl of emotion inside was strong enough to pick her up and toss her as if she were a paper cup on a wave.
One quick glance up to where she’d sat and watched her former cellmate leave on her last day here reminded her that everything on the other side of that wall was now forever forbidden to her. Why did that feel so strange? She should be kicking up her heels, but suddenly the absence of a process felt risky. Martha had made herself scarce, claiming she had something to do, but Lil had seen the softer side of Martha and she had a feeling that woman just didn’t like goodbyes.
Lil placed her box of belongings on the bench and settled in next to it. She crossed and then uncrossed her legs, then simply folded her hands into her lap.
She’d prayed for this day, and now that it was here, why was she feeling so apprehensive? Must be the whole Angelina thing. Lord, if the folks back home knew where Lil had spent the past few months they’d be disappointed in her. She raised her chin to the sky.
Daddy, I sure have made a mess of things. I can’t wait to get back home.
One thing she knew for sure, there would be no more Miss High & Mighty when she returned to Summer Shoals. What was wrong with her? Why had she felt the need to carry on the charade and bury Harlan in a way that exceeded her means? In the grander scheme of things, keeping up appearances didn’t even matter. Heck, no one had even noticed. She probably could’ve cremated him and stuck him in the garden for a quarter of the price and never broken the law. Tarnished her family name. Never landed her fanny here in prison. Wouldn’t have her fanny fanning out twice its size right now either.
There’d been a time when her first desire upon getting the heck out of this place would’ve been to get to the salon. Get her hair done and have a proper mani-pedi. Now, she’d just be happy to sleep in her own bed, in her own sheets, on her own body clock.
Prison changed a gal. Inside and out.
She thought of the goodbyes she’d shared the day her first roomie here in prison camp got out. Lil now understood her case of nerves so much better.
Maggie’s little truck passed right by the bench Lil was sitting on, and her heart lurched. She leapt up, trying to get Maggie’s attention. The truck slammed to an exaggerated stop, then whined as Maggie threw it into reverse and stopped right in front of Lil.
In High Cotton Page 12
