by Linda Ross
“No, it doesn’t. And then there’s the Hominy overdose.”
“Do you think that ties in with Kara?”
“I don’t know, but I’d bet there’s a good chance.”
“So we’ve got Hominy, Stephanie and Kara all killed about the same time. That’s assuming Hominy’s overdose was a homicide. So how are they related?”
“Hominy and Kara knew each other from jail,” Jimmy said. “Stephanie and Kara knew each other from the hair salon. We don’t think Stephanie and Hominy knew each other. So the connection is Kara.”
“But she’s dead,” I said. “And she sure didn’t kill herself. So, assuming Kara killed Hominy and Stephanie, we’re looking for someone who then killed Kara. But why would Kara have killed Hominy anyway? They were supposed to be friends. Partners in crime.”
“A falling out among thieves? It sounds like they were running a credit card scam together.”
“Could be. But she’s dead now too. So she couldn’t have killed Kara.”
“I think we’re back to an ex-boyfriend,” Jimmy said.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Thanksgiving day was dark and overcast with more rain on the way. The gray clouds hung low, and that matched my mood. I had checked in with Eileen the night before to see if she needed anything for the dinner, and she sounded as harried as I felt.
Jimmy and I had had our usual evening activities—TV and me falling asleep on the couch. This morning I got up before he did and started the coffee. I opened a Diet Coke for myself. I figured this was going to be a three-Coke day at a minimum.
I put a box of Little Debbie muffins on the table, ate two, then headed over to Eileen’s house. Jimmy was still asleep.
Eileen’s house was bedlam. Desi and Tiffany were running back and forth, shrieking about their T-shirts, which apparently were in the dirty laundry and hadn’t been washed.
“You knew I wanted to wear that T-shirt,” Tiffany was complaining to her mother.
“Tiffany wore my T-shirt and spilled catsup on it!” Desi was shouting.
“It’s Kool-Aid,” Tiffany said with disdain, “and you spilled it yourself two days ago, dork.”
“I don’t have time to worry about T-shirts,” Eileen said, wild-eyed. “Go find something else to wear.”
“Let’s put them in the washer,” I said. “It won’t take that long, and you’ll have them in time for dinner.”
They couldn’t come up with an argument for that, so I herded them to the washer off the hall and showed Desi how to put stain remover on her shirt before it went in the wash. I left them arguing about washing their jeans as well, and went to check on Eileen again.
She was trying to placate Momo in the kitchen. I could smell the turkey in the oven.
“In my day,” Momo was saying, “we shot the turkey and plucked it ourselves. None of these frozen turkeys for us. And if we got worms, we had herbs for that.”
“Oh, dear God,” Eileen said.
“I never hunted turkey with worms,” Dad said. “Just used them for fishing.”
I thought Eileen was going to pass out.
“Why don’t you two peel potatoes?” I suggested. I wasn’t sure giving them potato peelers was a good idea, but it would at least keep them busy.
I shepherded Eileen back to the dining room. “Listen, I hate to spring this on you, but I invited a guest today.”
“Who?”
“A woman I met when I interviewed her for a story. Darlene Gregory. She was going to be alone today.”
“No problem. I don’t think we’ll even notice her in this zoo.”
“Is Ralph still coming?” I tried not to sound too hostile.
“Yes, and I don’t want you criticizing him.”
“He charges by the minute. I can’t afford to even talk to him.”
“Very funny. Now help me set the table.”
Eileen debated about using her white linen tablecloth with the eyelet edges. In retrospect it was a mistake, but that’s hindsight.
We put Momo at one end of the table and Dad at the other to try to keep the fighting to a minimum. Jimmy and I were on one side of the table with Eileen and Ralph on the other. We decided to put Darlene next to me and Tiffany and Desi on either side of Eileen and Ralph. It would be a tight fit, but it would work.
“Oh, God, I need a drink,” Eileen said, “and it’s still morning.”
“It’s Thanksgiving. You can drink all day.”
“Not around Momo. You know how she hates alcohol. ‘The Devil’s Brew.’”
“All right,” I said. “We’ll have lemonade instead.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Special lemonade,” I said. “Whiskey sours.”
“I could go for a whiskey sour,” Eileen said.
Eileen had a full bottle of sour mix and an almost full Jack Daniels, so I made two big pitchers of whiskey sours and put them in the fridge. The fridge was crammed full, but I squeezed in the pitchers. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Eileen and I each had a small drink, just to fortify ourselves.
Things were relatively calm by the time I went back to my house. Jimmy was up, drinking coffee and watching the parade on TV when I walked in. Nancy was sitting on the couch with him, and he was sharing his Little Debbie muffin with her.
“Just a heads up about the dinner,” I said. “We’re having whiskey sours, but we’re calling them lemonade.”
“Okay. Is the turkey going by an alias too?”
“Just the whiskey sours. Momo doesn’t approve of alcohol.”
“I hope you have enough of them,” Jimmy said.
“This isn’t my first rodeo. Momo’s a two-pitcher situation.”
I made some deviled eggs, and Jimmy and I walked over to Eileen’s at 1:30. Ralph McCready was already there. Greedy McCready. I don’t think he remembered me from the divorce. When Eileen introduced Jimmy and said, “And you remember Aretha,” he just nodded and shook Jimmy’s hand. Darlene drove in fifteen minutes later in a dark blue Ford that looked like it had been in a demolition derby.
I walked out to meet her and shepherded her inside. “Were you in an accident?” I asked, looking back at the car.
“Twice last month and again last Wednesday,” she said. “And then there were some more earlier this year. The insurance company canceled my policy.”
Gee, I wondered why.
Before we went inside I reached up and plucked a stray curler out of her hair.
“Thanks,” she said, slipping it into her coat pocket. “Only one curler got stuck in my hair today.”
She actually looked pretty cute, and when I took her coat and introduced her Ralph sidled right up to her with a bright smile. “Darlene, so nice to meet you. Glad you could join us.” I felt a definite sleaze attack, but Eileen was busy in the kitchen and didn’t notice.
Ralph didn’t leave Darlene’s side until we sat down to eat. He was constantly preening, flashing his fake smile and adjusting his cuff links, which had probably been purchased with the proceeds of my divorce. I had poured “lemonade” for everyone but Tiffany and Desi, who wanted soda anyway.
Momo insisted on offering the prayer, and I prayed she would speed it up more than usual. Momo likes to pontificate.
“Dear Lord,” she began.
“George?” Dad asked. “Is George here?”
“Not George!” Momo said forcefully. “Lord! Dear Lord!”
“Oh, I thought maybe George came by.”
“George is back in Florida at the liquor store,” Momo informed him icily. “And he’d better stay there.” Then she got back to her prayer and tried to soften her tone. “We, your servants, ask your blessing on everyone at our table, even though some of them didn’t dress for the occasion.” Here, she shot me a look from her lowered eyes. I thought I was acceptable in my best jeans and a nice sweater. Apparently the Lord wanted more of an effort for Thanksgiving. “And bless those new to our table,” Momo went on. “Even if they have lust in their hearts.” Her
e she shot Ralph a look, and I silently applauded. “And if they don’t have the sense God gave a goose.” I assumed that referred to all of us. “Amen,” she said, and we all chimed in.
Ralph insisted on giving a Thanksgiving toast before we started, and I gritted my teeth.
“Here’s to old friends and new.” He raised his glass, and we all drank.
I glanced at Momo and saw her take another big sip and then another.
“You might want to slow down on the lemonade, Momo,” I said.
“You look familiar,” Ralph said to me. “Have we met?”
“Maybe it was in another life,” I said dryly.
“I could use some deviled eggs down here,” Dad said, and I passed them toward him. I felt something rubbing my calf and looked down to see a man’s shoe working its way up my leg. I looked across the table and saw Ralph eyeing Darlene with a smarmy smile. Casually I reached under the table with my salad fork and gave a quick jab. Ralph yelped, and the foot withdrew, thumping the table in the process.
“Are you all right?” Eileen asked as she came in with the turkey. She set the huge platter down in front of Ralph.
“Just a little leg cramp,” he said, trying to smile at her.
Jimmy looked at me with raised brows, and I said, “My leg itched.” He glared across the table at Ralph, which did wonders for my ego.
“Why don’t you carve?” Eileen suggested to Ralph, and he beamed at her. He adjusted his sleeves again with a flourish, then went to work cutting off a turkey leg. He moved the leg to the plate Eileen had set down. And that’s when things went wrong. His left arm was resting on the table, and when he lifted it, a cuff link apparently caught in one of the eyelets at the edge of the tablecloth. At least that’s what I figured later. As his arm came up the tablecloth was jerked toward him, along with all of the serving dishes. The turkey was the first to go. The platter slid to the edge of the table, and the turkey dove off, hitting Ralph just below his belt and then sliding onto the floor with a satisfying plop. The gravy boat toppled, the cranberry sauce tilted over, and the sweet potatoes bounced out of their dish and danced down the table. The turkey leg landed on Darlene’s plate.
Ralph’s mouth hung open in surprise, and then he said, “Oh, shit.”
“Oh, my,” Darlene said. “Luckily, I was just going to ask for a leg.”
Eileen jumped to her feet and tried to right all of the toppled dishes, but Ralph’s cuff link was still caught, and he was dragging the tablecloth toward the edge. It was like watching lemmings commit suicide. First the gravy boat went over, then the cranberry sauce, then the deviled eggs and then the Jello salad. All of it smashed into Ralph’s waistline and then dripped down his pants.
“Will you stop moving!” Eileen finally shouted at Ralph. She disengaged the cuff link, then surveyed the damage.
“There’s no dinner,” she wailed, stating the obvious. Tiffany and Desi were busy taking photos with their phones.
Ralph’s pants looked like they’d been used to mop up a particularly big mess, and some of the food had splattered onto Eileen, giving her outfit a tie-dyed look.
Dad had grabbed a roll and the bowl of peas when things started sliding, and now he clutched them to his chest. Momo was draining her glass. “This is really good lemonade,” she said.
I looked at Jimmy, and he said, “I have to admit that this is more entertaining than football.”
“All right,” I said. “Eileen, you go change, and I’ll start cleaning up.”
“What are we going to eat?” Eileen cried, staring at the devastation before her.
“I’ve got some hot dogs in the freezer,” I said. “The dressing is still on the table, and we’ve got plenty of pie. We’ll make do.”
So Eileen went to change her clothes, and Ralph sat back down, dabbing ineffectually at his pants with a napkin. I got him a roll of paper towels, although I would have preferred to take him out in the yard and hose him down. And for more reasons than just the food all over his clothes. He was still making eyes at Darlene, and I had to restrain myself to keep from smacking him.
Jimmy went with me to get the hot dogs, and I said, “I can’t believe that jerk is still flirting with Darlene.”
“I could give Darlene my gun, and with any luck she’d shoot him.”
“Not Darlene. With her luck, she’d shoot Momo and the pitcher of whiskey sours. And we really need those whiskey sours.”
When Jimmy and I got back with the hot dogs, Eileen was changed, Ralph was sitting in his chair trying to flirt with Darlene, and Dad and Momo were picking at the food still lying on the tablecloth. Tiffany and Desi had gone upstairs to share the video with their friends. Someone, probably Dad, had turned the TV on, and a football game was blaring.
Jimmy and I cleaned up while Eileen defrosted the hot dogs in the microwave, then cut them up and heated them with some canned baked beans.
Once the table was clear, we put out new plates and silverware, and Eileen put the bowl of beanie wienies on the table. “Sit and don’t move,” she ordered Ralph, who obediently did as he was told.
“Somehow I think this is all my fault,” Darlene said as she spooned food onto her plate.
“Nonsense,” I said.
“Something always goes wrong wherever I go.”
“I can’t imagine anything going wrong with you around,” Ralph said, and Eileen stared at him.
“Well, it does,” Darlene said. “It’s like I’m cursed or something.”
“Maybe you just need to look at things differently,” I said. “Put a positive spin on it.” I couldn’t believe that I, the queen of the cynics, was saying this.
“You mean like that positive thinking stuff?” she asked.
“What’s positive drinking?” Dad asked. “Is that some new program?”
“I really like this lemonade,” Momo said as she drained her glass. She was beginning to wobble on her chair, and I shot a worried glance at Eileen. We didn’t need to have Momo topple over.
“I think positive thinking is an excellent idea,” Ralph said, giving her a broad smile. “I could help with that.”
Eileen was shooting him dark looks, but he wasn’t paying any attention.
Ralph was still trying to chat up Darlene when we’d finished the beanie wienies and were gorging ourselves on pie. That’s when my phone buzzed.
I pulled it out of my pocket and looked at the text. I bit down my first reaction, which was to shriek and curse, and I handed the phone to Jimmy. He read it and stood up quickly. “Wait here,” he said.
I wanted to go with him, but I knew he was in cop mode. I looked at the text again.
How’s your car looking now, bitch? Happy Thanksgiving.
I looked out the window and saw Jimmy circling my car. He took out his phone and took a photo on the driver’s side. From where I was standing, I couldn’t see what was wrong.
I got myself another whiskey sour for fortification and waited. Jimmy had slipped out quietly, and no one had noticed. Darlene was blushing as Ralph poured on the charm, and Eileen was glaring at both of them.
Jimmy came back in, and everyone looked up when the door closed.
“I think you need to spend the night at my place,” he said to me.
“What??” Eileen demanded. Her world must be upside down. First, Ralph was hitting on Darlene, and now Jimmy was taking me home to his place.
“There’s been some damage to her car,” Jimmy said. “And I don’t think she’s safe here.”
“But we were going to go shopping tomorrow,” Eileen said.
“We still can,” I told her. “You can pick me up at Jimmy’s.”
“Well, okay.”
“Come on,” Jimmy said. “Let’s get you and Nancy packed up. I want to get you settled in before it gets dark.”
“You know Nancy is a serial pee-er,” I said.
“My house isn’t a hotel. We’ll survive.”
As we walked past my car to the house, I saw a cracked winds
hield and a broken driver’s side window.
“There’s an iron brick on the seat,” Jimmy said. “Looks like a door stop. I’ll have the guys take it to the lab, but I doubt they’ll find anything.”
“How did we not hear that?” I asked.
“Your dad had the TV on as loud as it would go. What worries me is the guy must have been watching and knew we were over here. He must have parked somewhere and come on foot.”
I shuddered thinking about some weirdo creeping up on my house and car. Not to mention my dog.
I put together some clothes, my toothbrush, Tums and deodorant in a bag and filled a sack with Nancy’s dog food, treats and her bowls. At the last minute I grabbed a six-pack of Diet Coke as well.
Jimmy’s house was a vinyl ranch in a subdivision off Highway 61. His wife had died in a car accident some years ago, and he lived alone. All of which made me feel distinctly uncomfortable entering the place.
You could tell a woman didn’t live there. Everything was for comfort and nothing for decoration. The pillows on the couch were big and soft and didn’t match the couch at all. Red plaid on blue. There was a coffee table, but there was nothing artfully arranged on it, just the newspaper and some kind of police magazine.
Jimmy showed me to the guest bedroom, which must not have been used in eons. “Let’s throw the sheets in the wash,” he said. “They haven’t been cleaned in a while.”
We stripped the bed, and I followed him to a closet area off the kitchen. We worked without speaking, putting the sheets and detergent in the washer and starting it up. Meanwhile, Nancy was sniffing around her new surroundings. I took her out back, and she sniffed there a while before squatting to pee. I rewarded her with a treat when we came back in.
“Come on,” Jimmy said. “Let’s watch some TV until the sheets are done.” We sat on the couch, Nancy curled up on the end on one of the plaid pillows, and watched more football. All I could think about was that some psychopath was taunting me, and there was a chance I was going to be the next dead body. I took a shaky breath.
Jimmy put his arm around my shoulders. “You can cry if you want,” he said. “It might make you feel better.”
“I don’t cry,” I said. “I eat when I’m stressed.”