by Tegan Maher
She flapped a hand. "I can only look at pyramids and ancient ruins for so long, and even the beach is losin’ its appeal."
I raised my brows at her. “You didn’t like the pyramids and ruins?”
That surprised me. I'd love to see those things and figured I could spend hours exploring them, especially the Mayan ruins, though I admit openly I'm not a fan of wild monkeys. They're like drunk rednecks in a bar. They may be harmless wild animals one minute, but the wrong move could send them off the deep end. No thanks.
"Well," she said, a little put out, "if you must know, the ghosts there are rude, and some of them are downright scary. I ran into a couple of those pharaohs who were seriously pissed because they'd been labeled unidentified when they said their names were carved right into the walls. I tried to explain how it was an easy mistake to make because it was all chicken-scratchy and looked more like shapes little kids draw, but that just seemed to make 'em madder."
She frowned and tapped the little cleft in her chin with her finger, her gaze a thousand miles away. More, technically. "Also, they got all snippy when I asked for makeup tips. Those cat-eye wings they make with the eyeliner are great." She shuddered. "Still, I'm glad we don't have any of them over here. I got homesick, so here I am!"
"We're glad to have you back too," I said, and meant it. Cheri Lynn added a certain flair to our group, and when she was gone, everything seemed a little flatter.
"So," she said, looking around the table, "back to why we're talking about the three motives for murder."
We took turns bringing her up to speed.
She shook her head. "I doubt it was Knuckles. He's a sweetheart and I can't imagine him hurting a fly."
"That's what I said, too." I just wasn't buying it.
"Well, then that takes us back to square one," Hunter said. “But we’re still checking him out.”
We tossed around a couple other ideas, but none of them really flew. Just as we were finishing our pizza, Rose pulled into the driveway. As she made her way from her car to the porch, it was obvious she was drained. Her shoulders slumped and her hair had come part of the way out of the sleek updo Coralee had given her.
She pecked on the door and called yoohoo through the screen, then came on in when we answered. I tilted my chair back on two legs and pulled a beer out of the fridge for her. "I would have poured you a glass of wine," I said, "but given the circumstances, I'm avoiding it for the time being."
"Beer's fine," she said, twisting off the top and taking a healthy swig. "After the day I just had, I'd drink mouthwash."
Raeann glanced at her, curious. "Noelle said it went as well as could be expected. Did something happen after she left?"
"Lordy," she said, glancing at me. "If you'd stayed just a few minutes longer, you'd have gotten your money's worth." She turned to Hunter. "Speakin' of money's worth, I'm probably going to end up owin' you a hundred bucks."
"Me?" he asked, taken aback. "Why?"
"Well, not you personally, but the county," she clarified. All the girls caught on, but Cheri Lynn was the first. "Who'd you slug?"
The punishment for simple battery in Keyhole County was a flat hundred-dollar fine. It had been that way for as long as I could remember, except the fine had gone up incrementally over the years. It was a running joke that if you were gonna hit somebody, make sure you got your money’s worth.
Rose's mouth tipped up in a tired smile. "Nobody yet, but I can almost promise you that before it's all said and done, I'm gonna lay Millie out."
I was intrigued because I'd never known Rose to have a violent bone in her body. "What on earth did she do?"
Rose sighed and took another swig from her beer, then pulled the pins from her hair. Shaking her head and rubbing her scalp to bring the circulation back, she scowled. "We had about twenty minutes left of the viewing, and the place had pretty much cleared out," she said. "The food table was empty, and Miss Clown Suit came over, all pouty, wanting to know when they could leave. Daddy told her it was almost time, and the crazy bitch had the nerve to ask me for the keys to Mama's house so they could start movin' in!"
"Holy cow," Cheri Lynn said, her expression awestruck. "The fact you didn't knock her out then and there shows you got the patience of a saint and class in spades. I couldn't have done it."
"Well," Rose said, "to be fair, Daddy dragged her outside right then and there, and I mean that literally. He took her by the arm and pulled her out the back door. They must have left because that's the last I saw of either of them. Daddy didn't even come back in to tell me goodbye."
Her face fell, causing me to want to punch them both out.
“I’m sorry, Rose,” Hunter said. “That was really crappy of him.” He was one of the few people I knew who was blessed with two good parents who were still married, and he had a hard time understanding why all parents weren’t that way.
She gave a nod of thanks. "Anyway, I spent a couple minutes talkin' to Mama even though I know that was just an empty shell. I apologized for fightin' with her and told her I loved her and I'd miss her." She sniffed and smiled a sad smile. "It's true, too. I loved the old bird, ruffled feathers, sharp beak, and all."
"I love you too, baby." Ida's voice filtered in before her form misted into view, Belle and Addy on either side of her. "And I'm sorry for trying to boss you, and for being so hard on you all the time."
Rose's gaze shot up in the direction of the voice and she dropped her beer. "Mama?"
Ida gave Rose a tentative smile and floated toward her. "It's me. I guess heaven ain't ready for me, and hell's afraid I'll take over, because I'm still here."
I laughed, remembering the harsh way I'd seen her behave toward Rose and anybody else she deemed beneath her station on so many occasions I couldn't even count. "That's as good an explanation as any," I said, and everybody at the table who knew her gave up a series of amens and hear-hears.
For her part, Ida just pressed her lips together and took it. That alone was an improvement, and it gave me hope.
CHAPTER 32
AS SOON AS WE FINISHED up the pizza, Rose and her mom took their leave to spend some time mending fences.
"What did you tell her to get her all marshmallowy like that?" I asked Addy and Belle once they were gone.
Belle picked at a piece of imaginary lint. "I tried to tell her she was probably going to hell if she didn't change her ways, but Addy took a different tack, which probably worked better."
"I just appealed to the good mother I knew was buried deep inside her and told her maybe she deserved to be filled with regret into eternity for being such a hateful cow, but her daughter didn't."
Belle nodded. "It was one of her wiser moments, and as bad as I hate to admit it, that's sayin' something."
The kids had settled in the living room to play video games after feeding the horses. Rae and I had just finished cleaning up dinner and were having a cup of coffee before getting dressed. Hunter had gone back out to mess with the bikes with Matt, and Cheri Lynn was making her rounds to see who was interested in a girls' night.
I was sitting in the only chair that faced the driveway in such a way that I could see clear to the bend, and was shocked when my truck came barreling around it. Gabi was driving hell bent for leather, almost running off the road as she took the curve.
We rushed outside to greet her, and when she lurched to a stop in front of the porch, she leaned her head against the steering wheel. Since it was almost dark, I could barely see her through the tint on the driver's side door, so I cupped my hands against it to peer in. Her back was heaving as she strove to suck in deep breaths, like she'd just run a marathon. When I tried to open the door, I was surprised to find it locked, so I tapped on the glass and she about jumped out of her skin.
She took one final breath and blew it out, her mouth shaped in a big O, as she opened it.
"What's wrong," I asked, scanning her for signs of injury.
Still breathing hard, Gabi said, "Somebody just tried to run
me off the road. I passed 'em at the intersection when I turned off onto 91"—the road that ran in front of the farm—"then a minute later, I saw them plowing toward me in the rearview, doing at least seventy. I'm sorry about the truck."
She was talking so fast, nothing she said really made sense. "What do you mean, you're sorry about the truck? It was then I glanced back and saw a huge dent in the rear quarter panel.
"What the hell happened?" Hunter asked, going back to inspect it then walking around to the other side and whistling. He trotted back around to the driver's side. "Are you sure you're okay?"
She nodded, but her hands were shaking. "Yeah, I just need to sit for a minute."
While she did, I strode around to the other side of the truck. The entire side of it was scraped and covered in mud, both on the dents like she’d sideswiped a mountain, and slung up the sides from the wheels. She'd obviously been in a ditch somewhere.
After a few moments, she calmed down enough to turn sideways in the driver’s seat and give us the full story. She ran shaking hands through her hair. "Like I said, I saw the truck—it was either dark blue or black, I couldn't really tell since it was getting dark—barreling toward me. They rear-ended me, then came around the side and bumped me. I hit the ditch, but had enough wits about me to hit the ESOF so I didn't get stuck."
ESOF, or electronic shift on the fly, meant she could just turn a knob and shift into four-wheel drive. I'd thought it was one of the cooler features of the truck when I'd bought it, and was glad now she'd been driving my new truck rather than old Bessie, my 1984 beater truck that had been my only means of transportation until I'd been able to upgrade when I came into some money. Thank you, Ford.
"Anyway,” she said, “running into the ditch still slowed me down. Another car was coming, so whoever it was gave up, pulled around me, and hightailed it out of there. I was wrestling with the truck, so I didn't think to get their plate number. I hauled ass back here because I didn’t want to wait around for seconds, so I haven’t even seen how bad it is."
She stepped out on wobbly legs and leaned against the side of the truck, but I was happy to see her breathing returning to normal. The poor thing walked around to the passenger side and cringed. When she glanced up at me, her eyes were filled with regret. "I'm really sorry I messed your truck up. I'll see if my insurance will cover it."
I waved her off. "Don't even worry about that. Mine will. The important thing is that you're okay." Normally, I would have tried to magic the damage away since it was just cosmetic, but that could present a problem: Hunter might need it as evidence at some point, which meant he’d at least need the repairs paper trail.
As Gabi calmed down, I heated up. Hot rage washed through me when I realized they could have killed her. Plenty of spots through there dropped straight over the side of the hill at almost ninety degrees in some places.
Hunter examined the bed of the truck and took a few strides over to his. I crinkled my forehead, wondering what he was doing when he pulled his crime-scene kit from the back. Pulling out an evidence bag, he scraped some of the paint from the other vehicle off different spots of my truck into the baggie, then took pictures of the damage.
Somebody'd run her off the road and probably thought she'd been me. It was an understandable mistake given it was my truck and the windows were so tinted.
My temper bubbled over and I wanted to blast something. They better hope there wasn't a next time, because they'd tried to hurt one of mine. If I found out who they were, there wouldn't be a hole deep enough for them to hide in where I wouldn't find them.
I set my jaw and turned to Gabi. "Don't you worry about my truck, and let me worry about who did it. I promise you—I'll find them."
And when I did, there was gonna be hell to pay.
CHAPTER 33
HUNTER TOOK A COUPLE more pictures of the damage and put the paint samples in his truck in case he needed them for comparison. I called Skeet and told him what had happened. He said he’d get my truck right in and would let Hunter know if any dark-colored trucks came in with damage.
Meanwhile, Gabi decided a beer or three were in her future, and that she'd rather go to girls' night than stay home and think about how close she’d come to meeting her maker ad nauseam.
When we pulled into the parking lot of Fancy's, our dive bar of choice, I was glad to see there weren't many cars. I didn't feel like fighting for pool tables or dealing with a bunch of yahoos with a buzz and loose lips or roaming hands. Actually, that was kind of the opposite of true—I did feel like fighting, so it was a good thing there wouldn't be temptation.
Coralee and Cheri Lynn were already there, and I was surprised to see Bobbie Sue'd brought her twin sister along. They were dressed similarly in jeans and T-shirts. I tilted my head and looked at them as I approached. If she and Sandra were to dress the same and do their hair and makeup in tandem, would I be able to tell them apart?
Absolutely. I'd known Bobbie Sue my whole life; it didn't matter how many clones she had, I’d always be able to pick her out of any lineup, any time. Sandra had a softer look about her; she'd been raised in foster care too, but had been semi-fortunate enough to be taken in by folks with money and privilege. That's not to say she'd had it easy or that they’d been the kindest people, but she'd been brought up in a different socio-economic environment.
They already had a bucket of Bud Light sitting between them, and when Marybeth, the owner and head bartender, saw us, she sent a girl who looked like a younger version of herself over with another one.
“Hey, Lacey,” I said to her when she set the bucket in the middle of the table and cleared off the empties. “Your mama workin’ you hard?”
She smiled. “Sort of. She’s trainin’ me up because she’s talkin’ about expandin’. Says it’s never good to have all your eggs in one basket.”
Lacey’d been a part of Fancy’s since the day she’d been born. She was a couple years older than Shelby, and had turned into a fine young woman. Still, I was surprised to hear Marybeth was thinking of opening another bar. I made a mental note to ask her about it when I got a chance.
"So where's everybody else?" Bobbie Sue asked after all the greetings were over and Lacey had left.
"Camille's out of town on a case, and Anna Mae’s out to dinner with Matt," I said.
"Alyse is spending time with her mama," Coralee added.
"Speaking of,” Raeann asked Coralee, “how come her mama never joins us? I know you two play dirty bingo together. She's more than welcome."
"I thought about it," Coralee replied, “but she's a lot to take in. I already see her a couple days a week, and though I love her to death, that's enough."
"And Louise"—another friend of ours—"is dealing with a teething baby. She took pity on her hubby and decided to stay home," Cheri Lynn finished. "That's everybody accounted for."
"Everybody except one," I said as Kensey popped in the door and looked around. I waved to her and she grinned and headed in our direction. I'd felt sorry for her, being stuck out there by herself trying to adjust to the news that her mama had been murdered, so I’d called and asked her to come with us.
That was before I knew Cheri Lynn would be back in town, and now we were going to have to do our best to include her without talking directly to her. I sighed. Sometimes having to keep secrets sucked.
After I made the introductions, I motioned toward the bucket. "Have one. Have two or three. The only rules are that we split the check evenly at the end of the night and anybody who the group deems impaired has to sacrifice their keys."
"Sounds good to me," Kensey said, pulling a beer out of the ice.
"So," I said, frowning, "Gabi had some unwanted excitement in her life this evening."
"Do tell." Coralee leaned closer as she sniffed a good story in the making.
Gabi took a swig of her beer, then went through the story. When she was finished, I mentioned the letters both Ida and I had gotten. Cheri Lynn furrowed her brow. "I didn't know s
omebody was trying to buy you out again."
"I just got the letter a few days ago. Well, the second letter. I got one from ’em a while back, I think, but I ignored it. Some company called Georgia Investment Corp."
Kensey frowned. "I saw a few letters from them in Mama's mail over the last couple months, then one came for me after she died. We share a box, but I assumed it was junk mail. I got a ton of it right after she passed. It sounds like a company trying to get seniors to invest their money."
"That’s what I thought too. Or a bill collector." I chewed on that, because now Ida and Merriam had something else in common, and my name and Kensey's were in the mix, too.
"Oh," Raeann said, making the connection at the same time I did. "That is so not good."
"I can tell you right now, Mama would have never sold." Kensey shook her head, taking a pull off her beer and hooking the heels of her boots on the rung of her stool. "Not for love nor money, in a million years."
"Same here," I said. “But it doesn't make any sense. I can see the connection with Ida and me: we're close together and lakeside. But you're several miles from us and landlocked."
She shrugged. "I don't know, either."
Bobbie Sue huffed and pulled a cocktail napkin toward her. "I can tell you the connection right now."
She pulled a pen out of her pocketbook and drew a big rectangle, then sectioned it off into segments. Mine and Ida's properties were lakeside, with only a single large piece of property between us. That much, I already knew.
What I hadn’t realized was that Merriam's was on the other half and backed up to a long, narrow strip of land behind Ida’s. Our properties were all situated in close proximity to each other on one big plot of land and I hadn’t even realized it. As a matter of fact, it had probably been one farm at some point.
Now that Coralee had it drawn out, it made more sense. I just hadn't caught onto the fact that Merriam was so close, because her land mirrored ours—the front of it was cleared and the rear was wooded, so the driveway was way on the other side. Considering there was almost a thousand acres involved and there was that large strip between us, it would be virtually impossible to tell where it was in connection to me without seeing in on paper. It still seemed weird, somehow, that I hadn’t ever realized it.
