by Becki Willis
“Just like Bob Peterson,” Genny put in.
Stirring something on the stove, Granny Bert added, “Don’t forget Newly McArdle’s fire. Who benefited from it?”
Madison shrugged. “I guess the real winner was Cash Montgomery. He eventually bought the lot and built a taxidermy store on a prime piece of property in downtown Naomi.”
“Prime being a relative term,” Maddy remarked dryly. Even a prime location in a small town did not always translate into foot traffic. There were only two thousand residents in both towns, combined.
“At least it sounds like Newly got a little something for his loss,” Granny Bert said. “He left town soon after the fire, so I never knew for sure.”
“Not really,” Genny denied. “Cutter said the bank repossessed. They were the ones to sell the lot to his brother.”
A shadow crossed Maddy’s face. “That’s a bit odd, don’t you think? That’s almost the same thing that happened to Carson. The bank repossessed his lot, too.”
“Do we know which banks they used?”
While Madison looked through her papers, Granny Bert brought Genny a plate of scrambled eggs and grits. She pushed aside a stack of papers to accommodate the plate. “These ought to slide easy down your throat.”
“Where’s Maddy’s plate?”
“She’s already eaten. And my guess would be Naomi State Bank on most or all of those. I know they were the ones who financed Wanda and gave her such a hard time about getting her money. Same thing with Jerry Don.”
“That sounds like Barry Redmond,” Genny mumbled in her scratchy voice.
“That was the bank Carson used, too,” Madison confirmed, seeing the notes she had jotted down.
“So how would that work?” Granny Bert squinted down at the messy chart. “They may have repossessed two of the properties, but what about the others? It doesn’t add up. All they got from Cheap Willie were the payments he already owed them.”
“I admit I don’t have all the answers. But it definitely raises some questions. And it might explain why Barry keeps harassing me and making cheap threats. I thought he was referring to his divorce and custody of his daughter, but maybe he knew I was getting close to discovering his secret.”
Her grandmother looked less than impressed. “You’ll have to figure it out without me. I ran out of slippery elm. I’m going over to Myrna Lewis’ to pick up a fresh batch so I can make you both more of that tea. It seems to have helped with the soreness, don’t you think?”
“Actually, I think it has,” Madison said, putting her hand onto the slender column of her throat. “That and the honey.”
“Genny, what about you?”
She made a facial expression of semi agreement.
“It hasn’t helped?” Granny asked in surprise.
“It has,” Genny admitted in her raspy voice. Her face colored. “But… now I have Miss Gloria’s problem.”
Madison looked confused at first, then amused. “Oh, I see. What was all that talk about bran and fiber and not needing any help?” she teased.
She shifted uncomfortably in the hard chair.
“Well, it’s no wonder,” Granny Bert said. “Both teas I’ve been feeding you are made of binding herbs. Slippery elm, peppermint, cayenne, marshmallow root, just to name a few. No wonder you’re bound up, girl! You need to be taking something with the opposite effect, like prune juice pumped up with rhubarb or licorice. Here, I’m make you a tonic right now. We’ll have you right as rain in no time.”
With a frantic look in her eyes, Genny grabbed for the older woman’s arm to stop her. In her haste, she sent the same stack of papers off the edge of the table. A book tumbled with them, landing on top.
“I’ve got it,” Maddy insisted, bending to retrieve the mess. She turned the book over in her hands. “What is this?”
“It’s Blake’s. He said it was for a science report,” Granny acknowledged. “Second week of school, and already he has a report due.”
“What sort of report is it? Look at this title. Strangest Deaths in History.”
Her curiosity piqued, Madison abandoned her chart and flipped through the pages of the book. “Some of these are pretty wild. Like this one. While playing golf, a thirty-year-old man had an extreme allergic reaction to something they used to keep the golf course green. He had a habit of carrying his golf tee in his teeth and unknowingly ingested the chemical.” She flipped a page. “And this one. A middle-aged health food nut in England died after drinking ten gallons of carrot juice in ten days. He OD’d on Vitamin A and died from severe liver damage.”
“Folks think just because things are natural means they’re safer, but it’s not always the case,” Granny Bert nodded sagely. “Arsenic is natural, but it will kill you deader than a doorknob.”
“And listen to this one. A man here in Texas died of alcohol intoxication after his wife gave him an enema of two large bottles of Sherry wine.”
“You laugh, but I’ve heard of such,” Granny Bert acknowledged. “I had a friend in Grimes County who was a nurse. There was an alcoholic in the hospital that was going through withdrawal. The cramping was so bad that his wife sneaked into the room and put liquor directly into the enema bag so he could get his fix.” Her grandmother hooted as she remembered the tale. “The doctors came in and he was sitting up there in bed, plastered out of his mind. Turns out you absorb alcohol much faster when administered rectally than orally. Only took a few minutes to get that man higher than a kite!”
While Granny Bert continued to snicker, Madison and Genny exchanged sharp looks.
“Granny,” Madison said slowly. “That tea you’ve been making for us… What would happen if someone drank tea every day, made from those ingredients you mentioned?”
“I would imagine they would be pretty miserable. Much worse than Genny here.”
Madison grabbed her phone and scrolled through her photos, looking for the ones she had taken at Miss Gloria’s. “What if that included things like White Oak and Raspberry Leaf? Agrimony and Comfrey?”
“You’d never take those things, particularly all combined, unless you followed it with a large dose of castor oil.”
“Or perhaps with an enema?”
Genny pushed her plate away. “That’s it! The herbs!” she croaked.
Madison nodded vigorously. “Those are the exact herbs we found at Gloria’s. And I’ll bet they were in that tea she drank, too.”
“Why would a woman with her troubles take these particular herbs? It would be like colon suicide,” her grandmother fretted.
“Maybe someone misinformed her. Maybe they told her these would produce the results she needed.”
“What fool would do a thing like that? And why?”
Madison thought about all those pre-filled enemas, lined up neatly on the bathroom shelf. Darker in color than ones purchased over the counter, they obviously held a special solution.
A solution that burst into a bright blaze when exposed to the flames…
“Wait. Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking? That someone deliberately gave Gloria Jeffers binding herbs over and over, so that she would get dependent on enemas? And that someone filled her enemas with alcohol? Are you thinking that’s how a teetotaler would die of alcohol poisoning?”
“That’s exactly what we’re thinking.”
“But who would do such a thing to that poor woman?”
“There’s only one woman I know of that’s mean enough and hateful enough to do something like this,” Madison said, her face settling into hard lines.
Genny nodded in agreement. “Myrna Lewis.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“You are not coming with me, Genny. You are supposed to be in bed.”
Genesis glared at her friend and stood her ground. Shoving her feet into the first pair of shoes she found—a pair of Blake’s cowboy boots that were too large for her—she grabbed the car keys before Madison did.
“We don’t have time to argue about this,” Madison said emphat
ically. “We need to confront Myrna Lewis before she figures out we’re on to her.”
“You two can argue about it on the way,” Granny Bert said. “Come on.”
“There would be no reason to argue if Genny was already in the car,” Madison pointed out.
“Exactly. So come on. And I’m driving, by the way.”
Resenting her grandmother’s takeover, Madison grumbled a complaint. “Who said you could even come along? Both of you should stay home and let me and Brash handle this.”
“Both of you are still recovering. I called Myrna earlier, so she’s already expecting me. And let me do the talking. I’m not necessarily a fan of hers, but I’m not sure you have it right about Myrna.”
“When I zoomed in on these photos, I see there’s a label on one of the jars. Myrna’s Majesties. So Miss Gloria was definitely getting her herbs from Myrna Lewis.”
“Doesn’t mean she killed her. But I’ll steer the conversation around to what herbs are used for what. We can’t just rush in, accusing her first thing. We’ll ease our way in.”
Madison glared at her grandmother from the passenger seat. “After all, Subtle is your middle name,” she said with sarcasm.
Granny Bert’s smile was smug. “Darn tootin’.”
“But why would Myrna want to kill Miss Gloria?” Genny asked worriedly. “And why would she want to set the fires? The bank seemed a more likely suspect.”
“Maybe it was an insurance scam, after all. Maybe Barry and Myrna were in on it together.”
She recalled a past conversation. I think you are forgetting a certain business arrangement we have, one that your husband knows nothing about…
“Where is her shop?” Madison asked. “I’ll send a text to Brash and tell him to meet us there.”
“She has a hothouse in her backyard.”
Madison composed a brief text to Brash and marked it urgent. With the Lewis house only blocks away, they were pulling up by the time she pushed ‘Send.’
“We’ll go around back. With Genny still in her pajamas, Myrna will never suspect we’re here to accuse her of murder.” Granny Bert leered at Genny’s outfit, a cute little leopard ensemble that declared her ‘Purr-fection in Pink.’
The older woman led the way around the manicured path. Myrna’s backyard was abloom with color, despite the hot and dry summer. Even with its various elements of a redwood deck, gazebo, and now a large greenhouse, the yard was large and spacious.
“Yoo-hoo, Myrna! It’s Bertha Cessna. I came for my herbs.”
“Back here.”
They followed the sound of her voice and found her clipping a flowering plant at the back of the building.
“Oh. You brought someone with you.” She swept Madison and Genny with a less-than-welcoming glance.
“Yes, the girls wanted to learn more about herbs. I told them if there is anyone who can teach them about the useful benefits of herbs and plants, it would be you. Isn’t that right, girls?”
“That’s what she said,” Madison said, smiling through her teeth. Genny bobbed her head up and down with an enthusiastic nod.
Myrna eyed the latter with scorn. “I see you were so eager to learn that you didn’t even bother to dress.”
“Haven’t you heard?” Granny Bert gasped. “My girls here were in an accident. A fire. We almost lost them both when Gloria Jeffers’ house went up in flames.”
They awaited her reaction to mention of the fire. Her total lack of concern surprised them all. “I heard about that. What were you two doing there?”
Madison came up with a quick excuse. “Uhm, In a Pinch was hired to clean it out.”
“Better hope you don’t get sued for burning it down.”
Sore throat or not, Genny could not help but retort, “Gee, your concern is underwhelming.”
“What happened to your voice? You sound awful.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Granny Bert said. “We need something to soothe her throat.”
“You need Slippery Elm.”
Granny Bert nodded smartly. “See, girls, how she said that right off the top of her head? I told you she knows her stuff.”
Pretending to be impressed, Madison asked several questions about other herbs and their uses. She was sure to include the ones she had seen at Gloria’s.
Satisfied that the answers supported her theory, Madison hoped her voice came out conversational as she said, “I know Miss Gloria was one of your biggest supporters, too.”
Myrna looked up in surprise. “She was?”
“Why, yes, of course. She had a ton of your herbs and teas.”
“That’s odd. I don’t recall ever selling her anything.”
So certain they were on the right trail this time, Madison and Genny exchanged a confused look. It was Granny Bert that said, “Maybe your helper sold them to her.”
“Lisa?” Myrna’s voice was filled with surprise. She shrugged her compact shoulders. “Actually, she has developed a few loyal followers of her own, as surprising as that is.”
The woman’s inflated ego was legendary, but Madison pretended not to notice. “Why is that so surprising?”
“I’ve tried to teach her, but Lisa Redmond is a slow learner. And such a timid little mouse.” Her voice ranged from disdain to superiority. “Why would someone prefer her over me, considering my vast experience and knowledge?”
“Lisa Redmond is your helper?” Surprise hiked Madison’s voice.
“That’s right. Business has been so good I needed help.”
Lisa Redmond. Plain, solemn, meek Lisa. Barry’s fourth and most recently discarded wife. The one who hired In a Pinch to get the lowdown on her cheating husband. The one who hadn’t seemed quite so plain and meek when Madison saw her at the lawyer’s office.
“Lisa Redmond works here,” Madison reconfirmed, still trying to fit the pieces all together in her mind.
“Did the smoke damage your hearing? Yes, Lisa Redmond works here.”
“Oh. Uhm, well, I, uh, I was hoping to get the recipe for an herbal tea Miss Gloria made.” Madison was surprised how easily the lie slipped from her mouth. Her mind was working overtime. “I understood she got the recipe from here.”
“Lisa might have given it to her. She’s all the time mixing up herbal recipes.” Not bothering to turn her head, she bellowed, “Lisa!” Her loud voice startled the women standing only a few feet in front of her.
There was rustling from the front of the hothouse. “Yes ma’am, Mrs. Lewis?”
“There’s someone here to see you.”
Lisa came around the corner, shoulders slumped and hair stringy once again. She looked more like the down-trodden woman Madison had first met.
“These women want a recipe you mixed up for that woman who drank herself to death.”
Madison winced at the crass way Myrna referred to Gloria’s death. Poor Lisa. It was bad enough to lose one of her first few customers while still establishing her meager following. Worse, having her client die in such a sudden and unexpected way. And worse, yet, to have the death referred to so carelessly.
Madison caught Lisa’s eye, trying to convey her apologies. Instead of sadness, Lisa’s eyes flashed with the strangest expression of panic. Then they glazed over with a cold, hard glare and her entire countenance changed. She squared her shoulders and stiffened her slight body.
And suddenly Madison knew.
Gloria’s death had not been unexpected. Not to Lisa.
Granny Bert noticed the change in Lisa’s demeanor and took an involuntary step backward. Genny edged closer and whispered, “We were wrong. It was her.”
“I know.” Madison took comfort in knowing she had already sent her text. Under her breath, she assured her friend, “Brash is on his way.”
“No he’s not,” Genny hissed from the side of her mouth. “You sent the message to me by mistake.”
Lisa sauntered down the narrow rows brimming with potted plants. “My, my, who do we have here?”
Obliv
ious to the pending danger, Myrna reprimanded her employee. “Lisa, that is no way to speak to customers. Even these two.”
Granny Bert took offense, momentarily forgetting the woman looming ever closer. She whirled toward Myrna and said, “Hey, watch it, sister. These are my girls you’re talking about.”
“Not now, Granny,” Madison hissed.
“Barry always did talk about how spoiled you were,” Lisa jeered. “Looks like your old granny still fights your battles for you.”
Granny Bert bristled. “Who are you calling old?”
Madison stepped forward, deliberately putting herself between Lisa and her grandmother. She tried easing away from Genny, but her friend stuck by her side, step for step. Leave it to Genny to have her back.
“So what was in it for Barry?” Madison asked.
“What else is there? Money.”
“Was it some sort of insurance fraud?” With a sinking feeling of disappointment, Madison had to know. “Was Dean involved?” She wouldn’t put it past his wife, but she thought Dean Lewis was above such depths of deceit.
“Dean?” Myrna chirped. “My Dean? What are you talking about? And Lisa, what is wrong with you? I’ve never seen you look so… agitated.”
“What is wrong is that I have had it up to here…” she slashed her hand across her forehead “…with your snide, sniveling, caustic attitude. Get your fat butt up here with the rest of them so I can see you.”
Myrna was outraged that anyone, particularly an employee, would speak to her in such a manner. Fire flared in her eyes and spittle flew from her mouth as the squat woman roared, “How dare you speak to me like that!”
When Madison first met Lisa, she thought her weak, both physically and emotionally. A timid wife seeking the truth about her husband’s affair. The day Madison handed over the findings of her covert investigation, she wondered if she had misjudged the woman. She detected a glint in her eyes. A calculated expression of manipulation. Madison remembered worrying that day, afraid she may have unwittingly helped to further Lisa Redmond’s greedy and selfish agenda.
She had definitely misjudged the woman, Madison realized now. Lisa was stronger and more toned than Madison suspected. Up close, with her tanned arms exposed by a sleeveless tank top, Madison could see how fit she was. Lisa Redmond worked out.
