by Teresa Trent
“Dad, has anyone ever caught a fifty-pound fish around here?”
“No,” he answered quickly. “But how do we know they didn’t catch it because they didn’t have a Super Fish 2000 fishing rod? Sometimes you have to think of the cause and effect, darlin’.”
Coco crawled up in my father’s lap. “And how is my little Coco Pop today?”
“You need to buy bread. Mama says you are a patsy. I didn’t know your name was Patsy.”
My father glanced at me over his bifocals. “And this is what you tell my granddaughter. Okay. If you want me to buy your bread, you have to tell me why.” My father was expecting a wonderful infomercial on the glories of frozen bread, but instead, Coco was to the point.
“I want a Christmas teddy bear. I have to sell bread. You get to buy it.”
His eyebrows rose. “I see. Hard sell. Where do I sign up? You can put me down for one.”
I handed the brochure to my father, and he began filling out his information. “Thanks, Dad. We only have to sell eighteen more loaves of bread and we’re finished.”
“At these prices, it might be tough. Maggie can make something like this for a whole lot less money. Is this how much baked goods cost these days?”
“It does when it’s a fundraiser.”
He hugged Coco. “If it’s for my little Coco, I will happily submit myself to highway robbery.”
And Coco thought I was crazy when I called him a patsy.
“Hey, Dad, I have a question for you. Are mailmen allowed to take home those white mail crates they have at the post office?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Why? Are we having some spate of crate crime out there? Something I need to know about?”
“Oh, no reason. I was just curious. You know, I ask questions for a living as the Happy Hinter.”
He eyed me suspiciously. “Uh-huh. So, has my sister gotten over her crushing defeat to Enid Sanford for getting the solo at the Christmas festival?”
“I don’t think so. We just want to know what Enid has on Joe that she can get the solo when she sings like she does. Have you ever heard her sing?”
“Just another reason I stay away from organized religion.”
“Maggie is talking about quitting the group. What will they do then?”
“If they had any sense at all, they would just forget this whole thing and put on a Bing Crosby CD. When I think of Christmas, I think of old Bing singing about that white Christmas.” My father tweaked Coco on the nose.
I hated to tell him, but my sons would think anyone named Bing worked for a search engine.
“What has Rocky got you working on for Christmas? Does he have you entered in a contest or some other fool idea?”
I slapped my knee. “I forgot. Coco and I have to get going. I need to drive around and find the best Christmas lights in town.”
My father shook his head. “That won't be too difficult. Just run out to the Loper Dude Ranch. She always does it up big every year. I think it has a lot to do with her father being in the cowboy pictures. God save us from Hollywood. Go big or go home.”
“Good idea. Although I did hear that Ruby Green was going to do a tribute to Christmas hair on her front lawn. That might make an interesting picture for the paper.”
Dad laughed. “I guess that saying goes for her too. When it comes to hair in Texas, go big or go home.”
Chapter 3
After dropping Coco off at daycare for a few hours, I made the trip out of town to Libby Loper’s dude ranch. Libby was the daughter of the famous cowboy star Charlie Loper, and she opened the dude ranch in his honor after he died. As expected, Libby had done up the entire front of the ranch in a decidedly bling-filled Western theme. The ranch entrance had an oversized twinkling L with holly-laced greenery. The freshly painted bright-red barn had an eight-foot lighted wreath with enough residual glare to signal low-flying aircraft. Each window of the stately white ranch house had a wreath hung in it, and there was a cowboy boot filled with candy canes by the front door. Libby had placed large pots of poinsettias on the porch and a green-and-red quilt over the white wicker swing. My dad was right. The Loper Dude Ranch was something every Pecan Bayou wannabe holiday decorator would want to see.
As I went for my camera, Libby knocked on the window of my car, making me jump. “Are you going to stare at my house all day, or are you going to come out and say hello to me?” Libby carried on the Christmas theme in her outfit too, which consisted of a green quilted vest over denim capris. Pinned to her vest was a cowboy boot that looked like it might light up. She saw me noticing her pin and smiled. “Go ahead, pull the little string on the bottom. I know you want to.”
As I got out of the car, I did as instructed, pulling the string holding onto the little jingle bell at the bottom. A little brown mouse with a cowboy hat popped out of the top. It was delightful. “I love that.”
“They’re only $10 in the gift shop. But for you it’s free.” Libby sounded as if she were throwing caution to the wind just for me. Her heart was as big as Texas. Her long gray hair was in a braid, and a set of turquoise bracelets clanked when she gestured. When I first met Libby years ago, she was in a very bad way and was being taken advantage of by an unscrupulous butler. She had rallied from that experience and was now one of the leading citizens of Pecan Bayou.
“I was just noticing how beautiful the ranch looks. Is it all right if I take a picture of it for the paper? Rocky always wants to feature some of the most beautifully decorated homes for Christmas. I hope that’s okay with you.”
Libby slapped me on the back. “What’s that they say? There’s no such thing as bad publicity? You go right on ahead, sunshine. I don’t mind a bit.”
While I prepared the camera app on my phone, Libby walked over to her mailbox and pulled out the day’s mail. As she began to sift through the various letters, she clucked her tongue. “My, my. Just look at this stack of junk mail. Here’s one of those offers for a reverse mortgage. I saw that movie star on TV talking about this. I loved that guy’s show, but I’m just not sure about this deal he’s pitching. Just another thing to cheat old people. I’m very blessed to have this ranch, and I certainly don’t want to reverse its mortgage.” She read through the details, moving her lips. “This one looks especially fishy. I need to warn Ruby. Diamond Jim’s Deals. Phooey. She’s been worried about money lately, what with so few women in Pecan Bayou getting bouffant hairdos these days. I told her not to overstock that Final Net. Seems like we get so many pieces of junk mail out here on the rural route.” In her hands were dozens of offers from charities, political campaigns, and products I’d never heard of.
“Yes. We don’t get so much junk mail anymore, especially now that they can do it all through spam and email. Why waste money on a stamp when you can cheat someone for free?”
“I suppose you’re right. I received the nicest letter from a Nigerian gent the other day. Of course, I could see it was a scam from a mile away. His spelling was atrocious. Kind of like he wrote that email using Google Translate.”
Libby might be a senior citizen, but she’d learned a little in her troubled life, and not much got past her these days. She leaned closer to me. “Has Maggie gotten over her crushing disappointment yet? I can’t believe that Joe chose Enid Sanford over her. I’ve had cows giving birth make better music than Enid. It’s outrageous, I tell you. Just outrageous. Did Joe give any kind of explanation as to why he chose her?”
I pushed the focus function on my phone and took a picture. “He heard something in Enid’s voice he hadn’t heard before?”
Libby stacked her mail neatly in her hand and bit her lower lip. “Maybe he likes old grumpy women. I mean, seriously, look at the man. He spent his entire life being chased by dogs. He can’t be all that picky.”
After taking a few more shots of the Loper Ranch, I decided my next stop would be Ruby Green’s house so I could see the history of Texas hair done up Christmas style. That would make a good picture for the newspaper and
hopefully be interesting enough that people wouldn’t notice how light on details my column was.
My phone rang, and Aunt Maggie’s voice came over the car speaker. “Hey, Betsy Darlin’. I heard you were out at the Loper Ranch taking pictures. I know the last person who will ever give you respect is your own family, but I have one of the most spectacular Christmas displays in Pecan Bayou. I just finished setting up something very special.”
She was right, but her yard had been featured in the paper almost every year for the last few years. I didn’t think she had anything new up, but it didn’t sound like I was going to get away with not including her. I could at least take the picture and give it to Rocky. Let him decide whether to include her in the yearly spread again.
“Do you have anything new up this year? I mean, we could use a file photo from last year,” I suggested.
“Of course I have something new up. I want it to be a surprise, but all I’m going to say I’ve discovered inflatables.”
“Okay, I’ll swing by and take a picture.”
“Just perfect. I’m about to head out to pick up Danny from Wanda’s house, but feel free to click away.”
Click away or else, I thought. Aunt Maggie would be steaming mad to see Libby and Ruby’s houses displayed in the paper and not hers. Maggie had always been a loving person, but lately, she seemed on the jealous side. Holidays were often difficult for people who had lost loved ones, and Maggie was no different. She always included a place setting for Uncle Jeeter, who had been gone for many years. She still missed him and wanted him there at Christmas. For that reason, I would give her a break and include visiting her house for my article—just not right now.
As advertised, Ruby’s front lawn not only had different hairdos on display, but she also had quite an impressive collection of ladies’ hats. It kind of looked like a slightly twisted take on Christmas whose main feature was attractive heads without bodies. I thought about what Libby had said concerning Ruby worrying about finances. I quickly snapped a picture of her front lawn before driving over to Ruby’s beauty salon, The Best Little Hairhouse in Texas. When I went inside, Ruby was industriously poking at Glory McGiver’s hair while “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” blared in the background. She took one look at me and shook her head.
“All right. I can fit you in. I have about fifteen minutes to get that mop of yours back in shape.” She glanced out the window, where a piece of blue paper was picked up by the wind. “Look at that trash on Main Street. You’d think it was a ticker tape parade.”
“That’s Crazy Eddie. He’s having a big sale on Christmas Eve. You must have seen him around town.”
“Crazy Eddie? That’s his handle? What’s the world coming to? Now let’s get you into a chair.” She pointed to an empty pink vinyl chair that had been patched in with pink floral duct tape.
I ran my fingers through my shoulder-length brown hair, trying to make it look more presentable. “Oh no, I’m not here for an appointment, Ruby. I was just driving by your house and took a picture for the paper. We thought your hair theme would be an interesting Christmas picture. I hope that’s okay with you.”
Ruby continued shaping Ida’s hair. “I think that’s a capital idea. Be sure to print that if people are driving they can feel free to throw money at the house if they really appreciate it.”
“I was just talking to Libby, and she said you’re worried about money right now. She said you’d actually checked into one of those reverse mortgages.”
Ruby nodded. “Sure did. It may be what saves my hair empire.”
“I don’t know, Ruby. Are you sure this whole thing is a good idea?”
“Well, sugar, I think it sounds like a great idea. Believe it or not, you don’t get rich doing hair. I wish someone had told me that years ago when I chose beauty college instead of real college. Look at me. I’m in my sixties on my feet doing hair. As a matter of fact, in the sixties I was on my feet doing hair. A girl has to think about her future, and if I can’t depend on a man, I should be able to depend on my house. Besides that, they have a special deal where they’re going to give me a nice big starter cash-out up front. A thousand dollars cash for signing up and giving them the title.”
After I finished up with Ruby, I decided to show Rocky my pictures and began walking over to the Gazette. As I strolled down the street looking at the delightful red-and-green store displays and listening to the Christmas music Mayor Obermeyer piped through City Hall’s outdoor speakers, I noticed that a once-empty store was now occupied. The same bright-yellow coloring and all-caps announcement were over the windows. Crazy Eddie was written in bold, and the words SALE screamed out at me from the window. Maybe I could do some last minute shopping to see if there was anything else I could pick up for the boys. I had been shopping since August and felt like I was finished, but with prices like that, I could shop ahead for birthdays. I tried the door, but it was locked. It seemed strange that a store with this much advertising would be locked on a shopping day so close to Christmas. I tried to see in between the cracks of the bright-yellow paper that covered the window, but someone had blocked my view. The town of Pecan Bayou would not see how crazy Eddie really was until Christmas Eve. I gave up trying to get in and went to my original destination, the paper.
As Rocky scrolled through the pictures on my phone and I typed up a quick article to go with them, I asked, “Have you met Crazy Eddie?”
Rocky shrugged. “Nope. He emailed the ad in and paid through Payment Friend.”
“It just seems weird—a big sale on Christmas Eve,” I said.
“I think it’s ingenious. One night to sell out the store. It’s a moneymaker.”
“I guess. But how many people will be lined up at the store and not at the community service?” It wouldn’t be good for Pastor Green and the other spiritual leaders in the town. That brought his sister Ruby to my mind and her decision to do a reverse mortgage.
“What do you know about reverse mortgages?”
“You are all full of questions today. Some are legitimate, and some are just scams to take over the mortgage of old people’s houses,” Rocky answered.
Ruby couldn’t do hair forever, and it would break the entire town’s heart if someone tried to cheat her out of her home. Ruby did not need that piece of coal in her stocking.
Chapter 4
“You are not going to believe what happened last night. Judd got a call that there is somebody prowling around at night,” Aunt Maggie said on the other end of the phone.
As I stirred up scrambled eggs for the kids, I tilted the phone on my shoulder. Tyler came running in.
“Betsy, I can’t find any socks.” Even after all this time as Tyler’s stepmother, he still called me Betsy. I’d given up on the effort to get him to call me Mom a year ago.
“Look in your drawer.”
His eyes fairly boggled, not considering that might actually be where they belong. He ran out of the room, a man on a mission.
“What happened last night?”
“It’s a creeper. We’ve got a creeper walking around the neighborhood at night now. You’d better make sure your window shades are drawn.”
“Are you serious? Maybe it was just somebody who thought they saw something.”
“Live in ignorance if you like, but I’m loading Jeeter’s old 9 mm and putting it next to the door. It’s just me and Danny here, and I’ve got to keep the two of us safe.”
I wondered if it occurred to her that with one phone call she could get the entire Pecan Bayou police squad circling her house and calling for backup from the next town.
“So, who called in the complaint?”
“Ruby said she was up watching one of her movies and she heard something outside. Her dog Luckless, the world’s most exhausted basset hound, started howling, and when she turned on her porch light, a man ran away. You and I both know that if it woke up Luckless, she was in mortal danger.”
I noted how much information my aunt already knew, whic
h was a sure sign the story was on the gossip train.
“What was he doing? Standing at her window?”
“That hasn’t been established yet. Libby called Glory McGiver after Ruby called her. Then, of course, Glory called me. All we know is she turned on her porch light, ol’ Luckless stuck his nose up to the bottom of her screen door, and the man ran off into the inky blackness. We have a creeper, I tell you.”
As I hung up the phone, it startled me by ringing again before I could set it on the counter. Rocky Whitson was on the other line.
“Have you heard about the crime outbreak in Pecan Bayou? We got ourselves a masher.”
“Yes.” I poured the scrambled eggs into the pan. “Aunt Maggie just called me. I guess the gossip network is on fire with this guy.”
“Precisely. You know these ladies. You are of the people. I need you to go undercover. Talk to these women. Find out what would provoke a peeping Tom to go staring into Ruby Green’s window. I would think any man in town would know that once her makeup comes off, even the structure of her face changes.”
I stirred the eggs around the pan as Coco came in, silently handing me her hair elastic. Right behind her was our Weimaraner, Butch. He was three times her weight, but to her he was just a puppy. “You want me to go undercover.”
“It has to be you. These women trust you. We have to crack the case of the Christmas Creeper.”
I couldn’t help but notice he used the same term as my aunt.
“Christmas Creeper? Really?”
Coco looked up at me. “You mean Santa Claus?” She started jumping in place, and Butch let out a yowl.
“No, honey. I’ll be with you in just a minute.” I patted her on the head. “Rocky, I need to get the kids off to school. I’ll stop by once I get a handle on the chaos around here.”
“You betcha. We may have just solved the problem of your Christmas column.”
