by Peggy Webb
Wait a minute. There’s a set of keys with a tiny disc attached. It reads “Beaufort Center.”
Holy cow! Cassandra had easy access to the crime scene.
Suddenly there’s a loud knock on the door, and I almost wet my pants. I’m too big to hide behind the narrow shelves and there’s no way I can put on a mask and hide my condition.
I get quiet, hoping whoever it is will go away. The knock sounds again, louder and more persistent this time.
“Callie, are you in there?”
Good grief. It’s Cassandra.
I rush to the door and arrive out of breath, just as it swings open. She’s standing there with a thunderous look on her face…and an antique dagger in her hand. I nearly loose all bladder control. If I can’t get my fear and my hormone-revved brain under control, I’m going to be snuffed-out in a back room on Royal Street. I can picture the newspaper headlines back home. Vanished: Beloved Owner of Hair.Net, the Best Little Beauty Shop in Mooreville. I hope they don’t forget to add that I turned it into a northeast Mississippi Riviera by adding a massage table and a manicurist who paints your fingernails according to the predictions on your horoscope.
“Well?” Cassandra raises the knife.
Or did she? Maybe I’m so scared I’m imagining things.
“I’m lost as a goose. I thought this was the bathroom. And I’m about to pop, so I just scooted right through the first door I came to.”
Cassandra doesn’t buy it. Still, she’s struggling with the problems of using the dagger on a pregnant woman.
“No, it’s across the hall.”
“Well, thank goodness. It’s so dark back here, I can barely see my hand in front of my face. Of course, I rarely see my feet these days, so what difference does that make? Take my advice. If you don’t want to lose your mind, don’t get pregnant.”
“I have no intention of getting pregnant.” She shoves the bathroom door open. “In here.”
I march inside with the trepidation of a woman heading to the guillotine. She definitely didn’t buy my innocent act. I take care of business as fast as I can and then hustle Mama and Fayrene out of the shop.
I wait until we’re a block from Cassandra’s store before I spill my news about the Lovie look-alike mask and the keys.
“We’ve got to tell Pearl,” Mama says, and we all head off toward the Charmed Cat.
We hole up in a room behind the shop that smells like a combination of jasmine, patchouli, and lily of the valley. The Delaney sisters take turns checking on the customers up front and supplying tea and advice to the three intrepid sleuths lying low in the back.
“Of course Cassandra had a set of keys to the museum,” Pearl says. “She’s on the board.”
“I could have told you that,” Mama says.
“Well, why didn’t you?”
“You didn’t ask, Miss Priss.”
Thank goodness for tea…and a comfortable chair…and a dog who is so glad to see me that he’s bathing my ankles with gratitude. Fayrene and Mama eventually gravitate toward the front with Grace and Pearl and Houdini. I never told any of them about my brush with death from an antique dagger. I’ll never tell anybody…except Lovie.
Pete sticks his head through the curtains. “Come on, Elvis. Let’s play ball.” And off trots my overweight dog whose only interest in a ball is staying so far away from it nobody would dream of asking him to chase it. My future unfurls with an adorable nephew who will make a wonderful companion for both my newly trim and fit dog and my intrepid baby.
I lean back to rest a minute….and the ringing makes me jump sky high. Good grief, it has turned dark outside the window and I’m in a stuffed chair and where in the world is everybody?
My cell phone rings again. It’s Lovie.
“Cal, Rocky and I won’t be home tonight.”
“Where are you?”
“I can’t say.”
“Holy cow.”
“He’s got connections and we need them. That’s all I’m saying about that.”
“I’m glad you’re not here.” I give her a rundown of our discoveries, starting with Otto. “Keep Rocky away as long as you can. I’m afraid Cassandra and Otto won’t quit ‘til they get him.”
“They’ll have to climb over my dead body to get to Rocky.” Amazingly she doesn’t spew forth her usual colorful language.
“Good grief, Lovie. Have you turned over a new leaf? You didn’t even make me cringe.”
“Don’t think I’m planning to turn into Miss Goody Two Shoes, because I’m not.”
“What a relief.”
Lovie giggles. “You never could do sarcasm,” she says, and then she proceeds to give me instructions about shopping for Pete and the wedding clothes.
“We’ve already bought Pete a bunch of new clothes. New shoes, too. He looks adorable.” I’ll go to the bridal shop she mentioned and get the colors she wants, but I have no intention of charging it to anybody except myself. Still, I don’t tell her. She has enough on her mind wondering when the killer will make another attempt on her fiancé.
Now that I’m fully awake, I hear Mama’s voice intermingled with her friends, drifting back from the front of the Charmed Cat. But my edges are still ragged with panic.
After I finish my talk with Lovie, I punch the speed dial on my phone and wait for the soothing voice of Uncle Charlie. My hello is a pathetic bleat.
“What’s wrong, dear heart?”
I tell him everything, including the very real possibility that the killer is still after Rocky, and he says, “Don’t you worry. I’ll handle everything.”
He will, too. When my daddy died, Charlie Valentine stepped in to take his place. Mama depends on him for loving support and advice, which she usually ignores. But I depend on him to rescue us every time we blithely wade into trouble. Uncle Charlie has lethal skills that would rival Jack’s. He was once a Company man, but that’s my secret to keep…from everyone, of course, except my husband, who was recruited by Uncle Charlie.
Mama pokes her head through the curtain. “Ready?” she says, and I turn off my phone and smile at her. I’m more than ready for this day to end.
*
I’m running through fog, being chased by men with daggers and a woman who looks like Cassandra Olsen. But it can’t be her, because she’s pushing a baby carriage and she swore she’d turn all her babies into masks.
Suddenly a sound cuts through my nightmare and I jerk upright in my bed, my gown twisted to one side and my hair stuck to my face with sweat. I hear it again. The revving of a motor, and it’s definitely not coming from my dreams.
Jack! I’d know the sound of his Harley Screaming Eagle anywhere.
I bolt out of bed and race to the window. Moonlight floods the yard and there’s the Harley, all right. But it’s not Jack. It’s Pearl clutching the handlebars with Mama clinging to the back dressed in black leather and looking like a gun moll.
“Holy cow!” I push open the window and call loud enough to wake the dead, “Mama, what on earth are you doing?”
I know good and well she heard me, but she just straps on her helmet and roars off into the night with Pearl. I’m in no shape to do a thing about it. If I weren’t afraid of upsetting little Jackie Nell, I’d sit on the edge of the bed and cry.
To keep from turning into a ridiculous mess, I trot downstairs, put the tea on to steep and start making a list for our trip to the bridal shop. And I plan to sit here until Mama gets back. She’s not the only one who knows how to wait up and dispense a lecture after midnight.
Chapter 16
Pink Pearls, Riding Shotgun and Foiled Plans
I’m trying to stay awake and mostly failing. Footsteps jerk me into semi-alertness, but it’s not Mama. It’s Pete, standing in the doorway with one hand behind his back and his hair sticking up like the feathers of a disgruntled bird.
“Hey, Pete. Is there a problem?”
“Naw. I heard you down here.” He plops into a chair across from me. “You want to play c
ards?”
“Don’t you want to go back to bed? It’s way past your bedtime.”
“I don’t have a bedtime, and I aim to stay.”
This little boy’s past is breaking my heart. “That’s very sweet of you. We’ll play Go Fish if I can find any cards.”
“I got my own.” He throws a well-worn stack of cards onto the table. “Seven card stud. I got money.” He pitches some change on the table, and pennies and nickels roll everywhere.
Holy cow! Mama’s going to love this kid. Still, I’m not about to be responsible for Pete growing up with bad habits.
“I’m terrible at poker. But if you want to stay down here with me a minute, I’ll fix you a cup of hot chocolate and we can talk. Okay?”
“It’s according to what you want to talk about.”
He’s on the defensive now, poor kid, and who can blame him? “Let‘s talk about fishing.” Relief floods his face, and he leans back in his chair with the kind of swagger that makes him irresistible. “Do you fish much?”
“I’m the world’s expert on fishing,” he says. “I can catch anything with a cane pole and a worm.”
“Then you’re going to love being part of our family.” I tell him about the lake on Mama’s farm. I make growing up with Lovie, climbing trees and fishing, sound like the grandest adventure in the world. Who knows? Maybe it was.
When the Harley roars into the driveway, Pete says, “You’ll be safe now.”
He scampers upstairs and vanishes just as Pearl comes through the door with Mama, the gun moll, prancing along behind her.
She does a double-take and shouts, “Ha!”
“Ha doesn’t change a thing, Mama. I saw you riding shotgun on a Harley. Where on earth have you been all night?”
“Police and reconnaissance, in that order,” Pearl says as she straddles the chair just vacated by Pete.
“Pearl has friends at the police department.” Mama says. “Big shots.”
“I told them about the things you accidentally saw when you took a wrong turn at Cassandra’s antique store.”
“They’d already questioned her,” Mama says. “But they’re going to do it again on Pearl’s say-so. After we left the station we staked out Cassandra’s apartment.”
“Good grief! You’re going to get yourself killed. She’s onto us, and you can bet your boots she and Otto are already making concrete shoes for the entire Valentine family.”
“Otto didn’t show,” Pearl says. “If we’re lucky, he’s gone back home and there will no more attempts on Rocky’s life.”
“Pearl thinks the police investigation scared him off. This is a high-profile case, and they’ve got a big task force on the job.”
How can I be mad when Mama’s so proud of herself, and she brought good news, to boot?
*
Nothing perks up a bunch of sleep-deprived women like a shopping spree, especially when we’re met at the door of Wedding Magic by a gorgeous woman wearing a sleek gray angled bob and a huge smile. Her face is unlined and her makeup is perfect. She could be any age between forty and sixty-five.
“Hello, I’m Janice. And you must be the Valentine party!” While I’m wondering how she knows, she says, “Rocky told me to take good care of you.”
That explains it. Who could miss me waddling through the door? And Fayrene looks like a garden salad. I mean that in the best of ways. I like salad. But sometimes I do wish she’d opt for a more flattering color.
Mama makes a beeline for the designer label dresses, naturally, but her BFF heads straight to the sales rake. I join Fayrene. There’s no sense in paying full price for a wedding dress that will resemble a tent. I select one that looks less tent-like than the others, but the price tag nearly makes me faint.
The phone calls Janice to her desk. “It’s Lovie… for you.” She holds the phone toward me. “If you like, I’ll let you take it in my office.”
Thank goodness for small favors. I don’t relish the idea of the Valentine’s foiled investigations being the topic de jour in Wedding Magic. I give my cousin the rundown on everything we’ve learned since she left for her mysterious location--everything except the fact that Uncle Charlie will be bringing reinforcements from the Company to her wedding. Unless something goes awry, she’ll never know. They’ll be so well hidden, nobody will see them.
“Great. Now, listen, Cal. I’ve contacted Austin to cater the wedding reception.”
“Tell me you didn’t blackmail Marilyn Monroe.”
She giggles. “How else would I get a topnotch caterer on such short notice? You follow through and make sure everything is perfect.” She gives me his number. “Then pick out the best dress for everybody, including yourself. Rocky already gave Wedding Magic his credit card number.”
“I will not let him pay for our dresses.”
“Yes, you will! Why do you think I called to the shop? I knew you’d be stubborn about this.”
“Call me whatever you want. I’m not letting Rocky pick up the tab.”
“He wants us to have an extravaganza that will rival Prince Harry and Megan Markle’s wedding. Come on, Cal. Let him be a hero.”
“Since you put it that way…okay. He’s a really sweet man, Lovie.”
“He’s a hopeless romantic…but he’s my romantic. Listen, I may not be back until the day of the wedding. Expediting an adoption is not as easy as it might sound. Did you get all that?”
“Of course. I’m pregnant, not senile. By the way, where will you have the wedding?”
“I don’t want you to freak out. Rocky’s Catholic and he’s connected.”
“Fine. Great. “
“The wait time is usually six months, but his friend pulled strings.”
“Which friend?”
“The former governor of Louisiana.”
“Lovie, you’re killing me. The governor pulled strings for what?”
“Cathedral-Basilica of St. Louis King of France and St. Mary’s Church.”
I have to sit down. My crazy, fun-loving, tough-talking, heart-of-gold cousin is getting married to the man of her dreams in New Orleans’ historic St. Louis Cathedral.
Chapter 17
Wedding Mayhem and an Early Arrival
I’m at the St. Louis cathedral with the entire family plus Fayrene, Pearl, Grace, Pete and my dog, all in our wedding finery, including Elvis. But where are the bride and groom?
“This can’t be good,” Mama says.
Uncle Charlie takes hold of her hand. “Now, dear heart, everything is going to be fine. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.”
If there’s a logical explanation, why doesn’t Lovie answer the phone and tell me? And why hasn’t she answered my last three calls? I know she said she might not be back until the day of the wedding, but this is ridiculous.
“Maybe they’ve been comprehended by the criminals,” Fayrene says, but Mama gives her a dark look and she trails her chiffon skirts into the corner to sit down. Thank goodness, I convinced her that turquoise is partially green, so she didn’t show up at Lovie’s wedding looking like a bunch of broccoli.
Mama is splendid in a lace dress of pink gold, and I’m happy to report that my empire-waist chiffon in cameo pink makes me look more like a flower in full bloom than a tent. And all the matching lace hats I picked out are discreet and perfect for the occasion.
“I don’t even know what she’s going to be wearing,” Mama says. “When has she had time to shop?”
“Knowing Lovie, it could be the Emperor’s new clothes.”
“Carolina, I am in no mood for jokes. Remember where you are.” Mama crosses herself, and gets it all wrong, which doesn’t surprise me in the least. She’s Baptist to the bone. I hope she doesn’t try to convince anybody she’s Catholic.
Lovie will arrive in fine style and in the nick of time…unless she really has been apprehended by Cassandra and Otto. Or whoever the criminals are. At this point, no arrests have been made and our puny efforts at catching a thief who kills hav
e been futile. The killer could be anybody. Somebody we don’t know and aren’t prepared for.
I wish Jack were here. Suddenly, I’m wishing for more reasons that one. Jackie Nell just bowed up and kicked the tar out of me. It was so insistent it might have been more than a kick.
“There they are,” Mama yells, and we all rush toward the windows.
A stretch limo just pulled up in front of the cathedral. So many men in dark suits emerge it looks like an oversized clown car for the Mafia.
“Body guards for the governor,” Mama says as a dapper gray-haired man with a familiar face emerges in his tuxedo.
I add, “Ex,” just as the former first lady of Louisiana exits the limo behind her husband. So many years have gone by since their term in office, I don’t remember their names. Obviously, he is Rocky’s connection.
“Look, Rocky…and Lovie. Oh, that dress!” Mama stops roll call long enough to do a happy dance. I don’t know what strings my cousin pulled or where she got her wedding gown, but she is an absolute beauty queen in candlelight satin that enhances her curves and dares anybody to wonder why she didn’t go on a diet before her wedding.
Diets are for people who are scared to flaunt it.
She’s told me that so many times, I can almost hear her saying it as she ascends the steps to the cathedral. That’s when I notice her veil. Good grief. It trails so far behind her it looks like it will reach all the way to the Mississippi River.
We all race to meet her. Just as Lovie enters the foyer, the cathedral’s bell chimes out the hour.
It’s time to start and nobody knows what to do. Least of all, me. I’m too busy keeping a straight face through another contraction. While Mama hustles her party down the aisle to their pews, I say a little prayer that my labor will last hours. I even throw in the rash promise that I’ll quit going to every sale on designer shoes if I can just get through the wedding.
“Time to go.” Rocky gives Lovie a quick kiss then marches down the aisle with the ex-governor, who apparently is his best man.
“Daddy, take my arm. Callie, you’ll go first. We’ll follow.”
“What about Pete and Elvis?”