Five Spot

by Cindy Blackburn

  “Yadda, yadda, yadda.” I got up to gaze out the window and noticed it was a beautiful day in Fable, Georgia. “Let’s move on, shall we?” I said. “Now about that second date.” I stopped and let the idea linger, but Karen refused to take the bait.

  I stomped my foot and used my most authoritative voice. “Get into the spirit,” I scolded. “You told me you like him, and clearly the guy likes you. Therefore, you absolutely must go on that second date.”

  “But it’s too nuts,” she whined. “Pierpont Rigby, the rich and handsome, and me, the—” she hesitated, “the me.”

  “You’re not rich, per se—”

  “Yeah, let’s per say that.”

  “But you are handsome.”

  “Are you feeling well, girlfriend?”

  I admitted I hadn’t had much sleep but also insisted I was right. “You’re a very attractive woman, Karen. You have great skin, interesting hair—”

  “Interesting hair?”

  “Indeed. What other woman uses her Skilsaw to such amazing effect?”

  She skipped a beat. “I’ve never actually taken a power tool to my hair.”

  “And that’s why it looks so nice! And don’t even get me started on those amazing cheekbones of yours.”

  “Yeah, right. The guy dates movie stars. You think he cares about my cheekbones?”

  “Apparently so,” I said and could almost hear her eyes roll.

  “You’re obviously in fairy-tale mode this morning,” she said. “Which means you should be writing.” She asked how the desert romance was going, and I told her things were picking up.

  “Conrad has just slipped Slipper out of her diaphanous nightie.”

  “Diaphanous?”

  “Right after he saved her from the perils of the venomous scorpion.” I related the saga of the venomous scorpion.

  “The scorpion woke her up?” Karen sounded skeptical. “Do scorpions make noise?”

  I reminded my friend that Adelé Nightingale never frets over such minor details.

  “That explains the parasol then.”

  I scowled. “Trapping the scorpion in the parasol was a great idea. Conrad Montjoy’s a clever guy.”

  “But he opened it in her tent, Jess. Isn’t that bad luck?”

  I thought about it and decided Slipper and Conrad were not superstitious types. “And besides, a parasol isn’t exactly an umbrella, and Slipper’s tent doesn’t qualify as a real inside.” I thought some more. “Speaking of houses and homes.”

  “We weren’t speaking of houses and homes.”

  “Speaking of Pierpont Rigby’s mansion.”

  “We weren’t speaking of Pierpont Rigby’s mansion.”

  “Call him back and say you’ve reconsidered.”

  “No.”

  “If you’re nervous we can double-date. Wilson and I, and you and Pierpont.”

  “No.”

  “We don’t even have to go out,” I continued hallucinating as Wilson and my mother walked in. “Invite Pierpont to our place, and I’ll cook.”

  “What!?” everyone said in unison. “You’re delirious,” Karen added from her end of the line and hung up.

  I frowned at my cell phone. “Karen hung up on me.”

  “Well no wonder, Honeybunch. You threatened to cook.”

  ***

  Wilson placed a cop-approved coffee, size XXL, in front of me, and Mother spread the bagels with cream cheese. I sat back and let them wait on me, and super-sleuth that I am, quickly ascertained that my husband had alerted my mother about the Tori Fister arrest mess.

  “So?” I asked her. “What do you think?”

  “I think I agree with everyone,” she said. “I agree Chief Keegan was too hasty. Tori does have a rather disagreeable personality, but that doesn’t make her a killer, does it?”

  “No.”

  “But Tessie also agrees with me,” Wilson said. “Tell her, Tessie.”

  Mother told me she was relieved that at least one possible threat to my safety was behind bars.

  “But what if Tori’s innocent?” I asked. “Do you have any idea how angry Louise is? You should have seen her last night.”

  “You should have heard her,” Wilson said.

  I watched him help himself to another bagel. “I don’t like having my husband and my agent at odds with each other,” I said. “It’s awkward, to say the least.”

  Mother waved a hand. “Oh, but we’ve taken care of that, haven’t we, Wilson honey?”

  I looked at Wilson honey. “We have?”

  “Tessie made me call her.”

  I braced myself. “Dare I ask what you said?”

  “I told her you were worried about your ‘Hysterical or Historical’ seminar and said she’d be doing me a favor if she helped you out.” He shrugged. “It was Tessie’s idea.”

  “Because Tessie is downright brilliant!” I put down my bagel to give her a hug.

  Mother shrugged me off and pooh-poohed my compliments. “Although it did do Louise a world of good to have Wilson ask for her help.”

  “Of course it did.” I smiled at both of them. “Louise will do an excellent job, too. She knows Penelope’s work almost as well as Penelope herself did.”

  “And Geez Louise Urko covering Hysterical has got to be a good fit,” Wilson agreed.

  ***

  As the caffeine and calories kicked in, I wondered out loud what else my husband and my mother had been up to without me.

  “Oh, we’ve been talking about this, that, and the other,” Mother said.

  “This, that, and the other what?”

  “Other suspects,” Wilson said.

  “Such as?”

  “Such as Adam Sheppard,” Mother said, and I choked on the last piece of bagel.

  Wilson pushed my coffee toward me. “Densmore’s checked into him.”

  “For Lord’s sake. Why?”

  “Because the guy bothers me. He pops up a little too often, and he’s a little too helpful.”

  “Earth to Wilson Rye,” I said. “Adam works here.”

  “Earth to Jessie Hewitt. He has a crush on you.”

  I folded my arms and glared. “So of course that makes him a common criminal.”

  “No,” Mother said, and I lost the glare. “But Wilson and I agree it’s a tad disconcerting.”

  Demonstrating untold levels of maturity and self-control, I refrained from rolling my eyes and asked my husband the cop what deep dark secrets Lieutenant Densmore had discovered about Adam.

  Wilson shrugged.

  “Just as I suspected,” I said. “No dirt whatsoever.”

  “Adam had a hard time quitting smoking a few years back.” Wilson shrugged again. “Not exactly the crime of the century.”

  I finished the last of my coffee and recollected Adam kicking the habit. “That was another rough year at Happily Ever After,” I said. “Poor Adam was testy anyway, and for some reason, all Hatsy’s pink decorations made him even moodier.” I tilted my head. “Russell found out about Adam’s smoking habits? How in the world does he learn all this stuff?”

  Wilson admitted he had no idea.

  “Wilson honey, tell Jessie what Lieutenant Densmore learned about Roger Hollingsworth.” Mother offered a meaningful nod. “Putting the fuddy into duddy is the least of that man’s offenses.”

  I turned to Wilson. “Oh?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he said. “Roger Hollingsworth, aka Roger Mattowski, and his brother Ralph were the CEO and CFO of Skidmore Imports.” He raised an eyebrow. “Before they got caught.”

  “Before they got caught importing something illegal?” I asked. “Drugs, perhaps?”

  “Drugs, definitely. Ralph Mattowski’s still doing time.”

  “But somehow Roger avoided that fate?”

  “He must have had a hel—” Wilson glanced at my mother, “—a heck of a good lawyer. Roger dodged a prison sentence, but the Mattowskis, or Hollingsworths, or whatever they want to call themselves, lost everything.”


  “Isn’t it fortunate Faith’s writing career took off at that exact same time?” Mother said. “The Hollingsworths are a real-life example of fizzling and sizzling, aren’t they?”

  “You got it,” Wilson agreed. He told us Russell had checked the timing. “While Roger’s career fizzled, his wife’s sizzled.”

  “Yet all we hear is his holier-than-thou nonsense about romance and romance writers,” I said indignantly. “The man should be grateful for Faith’s success.” I huffed and puffed until I noticed Mother staring at me. “Yes?” I asked.

  “Adelé Nightingale’s career is sizzling right now, isn’t it?”

  “Jessie’s doing great,” Wilson said.

  Mother pointed to my Cupid. “I don’t like to be rude, but I’m wondering about money.”

  Wilson leaned forward. “You mean as a motive, Tessie?”

  “It’s none of my business,” she said. “But is a monetary reward tied to your new Hall of Fame status?”

  I shook my head. “Just my Cupid.”

  “He’s a—” Mother searched for the right word “—charming little guy, isn’t he?”

  “He’s genuine marble, but he’s not worth much to anyone but me.”

  “What about the pink seal of approval?” Wilson asked, and I perked up a bit. The pink Hall of Fame emblem would indeed translate into more books sales for Adelé Nightingale.

  “Which will mean more income for yours truly,” I said.

  Mother asked who else would benefit, and I mentioned Roberto Santiago.

  “Don’t forget Louise,” Wilson said. “As your agent, she gets a cut.”

  “Bless her heart, she earns every penny of it,” I said. “Which reminds me. ‘Hysterical or Historical’ awaits.” I stood up. “Prepare to be fascinated.”

  Chapter 25

  “Have we missed anything?” Faith Hollingsworth asked as she and her husband joined us in the elevator.

  Roger pursed his lips in disapproval of who knows what, but Mother ignored him and focused on Faith.

  “We’ve missed you, dear,” she told her. “I couldn’t help but notice you weren’t at dinner last night. How are you holding up?”

  Mother offered her most gentle, nonthreatening old-lady demeanor, but Faith didn’t take the bait. She deftly avoided her husband’s gaze and focused on the closed elevator doors.

  Tessie soldiered on. “The last twenty-four hours certainly have been trying, haven’t they?” she asked. She tapped my arm and reported that Wilson and I had also missed several meals with the Happily Ever After crowd.

  “Oh really?” Roger seemed overly interested in that piece of news, and I am sure my bodyguard noticed. But Wilson, like Faith, appeared utterly fascinated by the elevator doors.

  Meanwhile, Roger kept snarling at me.

  “I needed a break.” I snarled back. “I needed some alone time.”

  “Alone time.” Faith let out a forlorn sigh. “Wouldn’t that be nice.”

  ***

  “Have we missed anything?” I asked Wilson as we stepped into the lobby.

  A stupid question if ever there was one. The place was abuzz with pink people, and our group from the elevator only added to the mayhem.

  “Jessica!” Geez Louise toppled out of the throng. “I mean Adelé!” she said as Wilson reached out to steady her. “You just missed her!”

  “Her, who?” I asked, although I had a sneaking suspicion.

  “Jo Keegan!”

  “She came in during breakfast.” Gavin and Mykal also emerged from the crowd.

  Wilson cleared his throat. “Why was Chief Keegan here?” he asked, and I somehow caught on I was supposed to play dumb.

  “Yes!” I said brightly. “I thought she wasn’t coming back. To the Goodnight Inn, that is. Because, you know?” I looked around to see if we’d gotten anyone’s attention. “Because she decided Penelope wasn’t poisoned after all.”

  “But it was poison!” Mykal said.

  “It was Tori!” Gavin clarified. The guys were also doing a good job acting surprised, but I had no idea how much of it was an act. I assumed Louise had filled them in ahead of time.

  “Was Tori poisoned, too?” Wilson continued his dumb act.

  “No, no, no!” Louise flapped her arms and hit poor Roslynn Mayweather smack in the nose as she came up from behind.

  “Tori Fister wasn’t poisoned.” Roslynn rubbed her nose. “She’s under arrest.”

  “For murder!” Mykal added.

  “Shit!” Believe it or not, that was Faith Hollingsworth. In fact, she repeated herself several times until Roger told her there was no need to be vulgar, indecent, and crude.

  Wilson scanned the lobby. “Where is she?”

  “Tori’s in jail, and Chief Keegan left five minutes ago.” Zelda Bell had also joined us. She rapped Roger’s shins with her cane, told him to get out of her way, and held out her free hand to Faith. “Let’s find you a chair,” she said kindly, and the two women hobbled off.

  Wilson grabbed Roslynn’s hand and placed it in Roger’s. “Go help Zelda,” he ordered, and Roslynn and Roger were so taken aback, they actually did so. He glanced at me. “Team meeting,” he said under his breath. “Where?”

  “Follow me,” I said. I took his elbow, waved to the rest of the team, and led the way.

  ***

  “Move the flowers,” I ordered Gavin, and he picked up the stupid vase.

  “You’re in a bad mood,” Mykal told me.

  “An understatement.” I grabbed a cue stick from the rack. “Roger Hollingsworth thinks his wife’s indecent? I’ll tell you who’s indecent.”

  “Not out here, you won’t.” Wilson took the cue from me and motioned for Gavin to return Hatsy’s flowers to the pool table.

  “Wilson!” I said. “You know I think more clearly when I’m shooting some balls.”

  “Jessie,” he said. “You know we need more privacy than this.” He pointed to the Happily Ever After conference headquarters. “Anyone in there?”

  “No one.” Louise told us the Glee Club was busy elsewhere—Patsy and Batsy were working crowd control in the lobby, and Hatsy was busy setting up for the morning seminars.

  Mykal stepped forward to verify the coast was clear, and Wilson herded the team inside.

  “I’m furious with Jo Keegan,” I told the gang as we gathered around the heavily decorated pink conference table. “First she arrests Tori with no warning whatsoever, and then she outright lies about when she’s going to break the news to everyone. She keeps acting behind our backs, Wilson. Breakfast?” I threw my hands up. “She told us she’d be here at lunch!”

  “And you’re angry because?” Gavin asked calmly.

  “Because we weren’t there to see how people reacted.” I glared at my husband. “We were too busy hibernating in our room, hiding from the boogey man.”

  “We saw Faith Hollingsworth’s reaction.” Wilson was also annoyingly calm.

  “And I’m sure our teammates observed other reactions for us.” Mother nodded to Louise and the guys.

  “We were your eyes and ears,” Mykal agreed.

  Louise looked pointedly at Wilson. “We kept our big mouths shut and observed. Discreet, discreet, discre—”

  “And?” Wilson asked. “What did you observe?”

  “About what you’d expect,” Gavin answered. “Everyone was atwitter and aghast.”

  “More than atwitter and aghast,” Mykal added.

  Wilson raised an eyebrow. “Who was most atwitter and aghast?”

  “Mia Madison,” Louise, Mykal, and Gavin said in unison and reported that Mia had made quite a scene. She’d been getting coffee at the buffet when Jo announced the news and had dropped her cup.

  “She cried out ‘Woe is me,’ tiptoed around the broken glass, and left the dining room,” Mykal said.

  “With Charm Willowby in close pursuit,” Gavin added, but Louise informed us that everyone else had stayed put.

  “Everyone had many, many, many questions!�
��

  “Did Jo have any answers?” Wilson asked.

  “Not a one.” That was Gavin. “But she promised things will all be crystal clear in due time.”

  “Until then we’re supposed to go about our business as usual,” Mykal said.

  I turned to my husband. “What do you suggest now, Captain Rye?”

  He grinned. “I suggest we ignore Chief Keegan’s advice.”

  ***

  Needless to say, Wilson had my full attention. Indeed, he had the entire team’s attention as he explained how Jo’s news could work in our favor. “The killer thinks this is over and done with.”

  Louise pounded the table. “It is not. Not, not, not!”

  “I hope it is, is, is,” he said. “But until we’re sure, we’re still investigating, right?”

  She agreed we were.

  “So be extra observant today. All eyes and ears, and little mouth.”

  Poor Louise. She bit her lip to keep silent as Wilson grabbed a few seminar schedules from a stack on the table and passed them around.

  “Let’s spread out,” he said. He addressed Gavin. “You and Zelda are teaching together?”

  “That’s right, big guy. ‘Fascinating Fetishes from A to Z.’ Everything you ever wanted to know but were afraid to ask.”

  “Doesn’t that sound fascinating?” Mother patted Mykal’s hand. “My sleuthing partner and I will be all eyes and ears.”

  Gavin looked at me. “How on earth will you manage ‘Hysterical or Historical’ on your own, Adelé?”

  “I’ll be there,” Wilson said.

  “Me, too,” Louise said. “I’m handling the Hysterical portion of the program.”

  Mykal said something about the shoe fitting, but bless her heart, Louise didn’t notice since she was too busy rummaging around on the conference table.

  “Here they are. I knew I could count on Hatsy.” She held up a stack of paper. “My Hysterical handouts.”

  “Louise!” I reached for a handout. “When did you find time to put this together?”

  “That little thing?” She told me she’d whipped it together before breakfast. “I e-mailed it to Hatsy with a plea for a few dozen copies, and poof!” She tapped her handouts. “Hatsy Glee is fantastically efficient.”