Revenge Is Sweet

by Kaye George

  * * * *

  Tally nodded and went to the desk to see who could do her hair.

  It would obviously be the colorful young woman who had just finished Yolanda, since hers was the only chair empty. Tally kept her ears open wide to try to catch stray remains of whatever had been being gossiped about before Yolanda left—the “dirt” on Gene’s mom. Should she ask outright if this woman, whose name tag said she was Khristie, also did Mrs. Faust’s hair? No one seemed to be talking about Mrs. Faust at the moment.

  Khristie’s own hair was striped with bright stoplight red, so Tally was relieved when she didn’t suggest the same for her. Tally asked for a shampoo and a trim, though, so she would be there as long as possible, barring red stripes or a perm, neither of which she had ever gotten in her life.

  At the shampoo bowl in the rear of the shop, she couldn’t hear any dirt at all. But when she returned to the chair at Khristie’s station, a woman beside her was talking to her hairdresser about Mrs. Faust. She wasn’t the same one who had been there when Tally arrived. This woman had a very short, almost mannish cut. She probably had to come often to keep it that length.

  “So it’s possible she killed her own son? And she’s the mayor’s wife?” the short-haired woman asked.

  “No, I don’t think so,” the hairdresser said. “They were just talking about it, that she wasn’t here when she was supposed to be. My schedule has her here for her original time. I never changed it.”

  The client continued, “If anyone killed him, anyone in the family, I would think it would be the mayor. I’ve heard his re-election campaign is asking for a lot of donations, and the talk around town about his son isn’t helping anything. The word is that people didn’t like his son and weren’t donating.”

  What word was that? Tally wondered. Did everyone know Gene had been two-timing several women? Did they know about his finances?

  The short-haired customer continued without need for prompting, luckily for Tally. “He’s been seen out at all hours and drinking more and more lately. And a different woman every time.”

  That didn’t sound too scandalous to Tally, compared to Gene’s criminal troubles in his younger years, but it probably wasn’t the best image for a mayor’s son.

  The customer on the other side of Tally, this one with long, coppery waves, leaned forward to talk to the one telling tales about Gene. “You know, the mayor couldn’t have killed him. My husband was with him on the golf course all afternoon. They played eighteen and were behind a slow foursome.”

  The short-haired original gossip sniffed. “They played in the rain? It rained that afternoon.”

  “Not too long, I guess. I know it stopped their game early, but they spent the rest of the afternoon in the bar. I know Josef was there with them part of the time.”

  Short Hair sniffed again, and that conversation was over.

  Tally didn’t learn much else during her appointment, so she was eager to rush back to Yolanda and find out what her scoop was.

  The shop kept both Tally and Andrea busy all morning. It was noon before Tally found time to talk to Yolanda. She texted and Yolanda said she couldn’t leave, but Tally should come over. Business at Tally’s Olde Tyme Sweets was steady at the moment, but nothing Andrea couldn’t handle by herself. Tally thought, not for the first time, how much she missed Mart being there to help out. She also recalled, with appreciation, her steady, thorough working demeanor, her confidence, even if it had bordered on smug arrogance at times. She would have to hire another worker soon.

  Tally went out through the front door of her shop and was pleased to see all the foot traffic. Across the street, a young couple strolled into the jewelry shop. A family browsed the window of the art gallery, then went in. People were going in and coming out of the chocolate shop on the corner. That shop was the one that Tally perceived to be her biggest rival, although their wares were quite different. Still, they both sold good things to eat, and she knew she was competition for them—and vice versa.

  She crossed her fingers for her own business and walked into Yolanda’s shop, fragrant with the smell of lilies at the moment.

  “Oh hi, Kevin,” she said when she saw the vineyard store manager talking to Yolanda as she worked.

  “Just leaving. See you later,” Kevin said and left with a wave to both of them.

  “What are you working on?” Tally asked.

  “Gene’s funeral, believe it or not. His mother wants bunches and bunches of lilies for his casket.”

  “They want a basket for a funeral?”

  “No, a spray, but they came to me because they knew I had the flowers. Apparently, Mrs. Faust is on the outs with all the florists in town.”

  “I imagine she’s hard to get along with. I know I don’t like her much. Or at all, actually.” Tally leaned over to get a full, sweet whiff of the stargazers Yolanda was trimming and inserting into wire mesh and foam for the spray. “Poor Gene.” Tally surprised herself when she said it. It came out before she knew it. No one should have the life or the family he’d had. And no one should die like he had. “So they came to you. Do they know you’re a suspect in his murder?”

  Yolanda shrugged. “Not sure. But according to the women at Fancy’s Curls, his mother might have been the one who killed him.”

  “Do tell.”

  Yolanda related what they’d said about her coming late and leaving early, changing to a light trim instead of a perm. Then Tally added the information that they had talked about his father possibly killing him too.

  “I agree,” Tally said. “Poor Gene.”

  Chapter 14

  Soon after Tally walked in the front door of Olde Tyme Sweets after seeing Yolanda, setting off the soft chime she loved to hear, Allen called to invite her out to dinner again. She accepted without stopping to think about whether or not she should. But after the call ended, she wondered if she was getting into something she shouldn’t. What did she know about Allen Wendt anyway? But, then again, dinner—what could that hurt?

  The place he had mentioned was public, the Rathskeller, in the thick of the touristy part of Fredericksburg and sure to be packed this time of year, even if it was Tuesday night. She had told him she would walk there, since it was so close to her place. She would close up at seven, leave Andrea to do cleanup, again, and concentrate on enjoying herself. She needed a break from worrying about the murders and who could possibly have committed them.

  A couple of hours before closing, the shop was full, and Tally seemed busier than she ever had been. Glancing around, she figured out why. Andrea was nowhere to be seen. When the latest wave of customers had passed and there were only a handful of browsers left in the store, Tally pushed through the door to the kitchen and found Andrea on a stool, slumped on the counter of the center island. A faint sobbing sound reached Tally, and she noticed Andrea’s heaving shoulders. She must be crying about Gene’s death, Tally thought.

  When she touched Andrea’s shoulder, she flinched and jerked up her head.

  “Oh, I’m sorry I scared you,” Tally said, backing up a step. “What’s wrong? Is there anything I can do?”

  “No, there’s nothing anyone can do,” Andrea wailed. She sniffed and swiped at the tears staining her face.

  Tally fetched a tissue from the cupboard. After Andrea wiped her eyes and her nose, she hung her head for a moment, then spoke.

  “It’s…it’s the anniversary of the day my sister died.”

  So, she was not crying about Gene? Something else? Tally sat on another stool beside her. “I’m so sorry.”

  Andrea’s features hardened. “The tenth anniversary. Of the day she was killed.”

  “Killed?” Tally’s eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open in shock.

  “She was killed in a drunk driving accident.”

  “How awful.” Tally hoped she hadn’t been driving. “How old was she?”<
br />
  “She was fourteen.”

  So, Andrea’s sister likely would not have been the driver. Tally didn’t know what to say. “Would you like the day off?”

  “No. That’s okay. I’ll get back to work.” Andrea hopped off the stool and went to the restroom. She emerged a few minutes later and, true to her word, went back to work.

  Tally decided she would be as gentle as she could with the poor girl. She couldn’t imagine losing a family member so young, and to violence.

  The last hours of the day flew by like a Texas twister, then it was time for her to leave. She grabbed her purse and dashed out to be on time to the Rathskeller.

  * * * *

  “So, you walked over, right?” Allen said as she approached the entrance. He was lounging against the stone exterior of the place, at the top of the stairs that led down to the German restaurant in the basement of the building that had been there since the 1800s. “My truck is parked out in the alley so I can drive you home if you’d like.”

  She agreed to that, and they descended into a world filled with the wonderful German aromas of kraut and sausage, and of frying chicken and catfish, too, since it was Texas. They were shown to a table against the rustic stone wall, a waiter dodging them while he balanced a large tray loaded with Jaeger Schnitzel and brats.

  Allen didn’t seem inclined to discuss the murder of his boss, so Tally figured she would give herself a much-needed break from that topic. They talked about the rain being gone for now, at least they hoped it was. This part of Texas didn’t need any more drought, but a lack of rain was preferred when it was tourist season.

  Dinner proved to be precisely the relaxing interlude Tally needed. She found herself loosening up and enjoying herself. Allen was intelligent, articulate, and a good dinner companion. She wondered if he would ever be anything more. They seemed to have the same taste in movies, TV shows, and books—unless he was merely agreeing with her to try to get her to like him more.

  After they ate, they strolled to Allen’s truck, parked behind the restaurant. The sun was setting in a brilliant blaze of colors, reminiscent of one of Yolanda’s outfits.

  He held the door and assisted her as she climbed up into the seat. However, when he took his own seat and turned the key, the vehicle made a couple of wretched, grinding noises, then fell silent.

  Allen swore softly and whipped out his phone. “I know a guy. He can probably be here in a few minutes and give me a jump. It needs a new battery.”

  True to Allen’s prediction, a small pickup with a magnetic sign on the door drove up within about ten minutes. The sign said that the truck belonged to Howie’s Garage. A short, compact man jumped out and shook Allen’s hand. “Got some trouble?”

  Everything around them took on a rosy hue as the sun gave one last burst before fading.

  “The battery again, Howie,” Allen said in a dejected tone.

  “Let’s see if she’ll jump one more time. But I’m tellin’ you, one of these days she won’t.”

  Tally was surprised to learn the battery was female. She was pretty sure her own was male.

  Allen said, “It’s not that old, Howie.”

  Howie whipped out some cables and hooked the trucks together. “You know, there was a bad batch of these. This is the same one that’s givin’ Mrs. Faust fits. Or it was until she got a new one last week. She was throwin’ a conniption fit, sayin’ she had to get to the divorce lawyer and get her hair done and I don’t know what all. But she plain and simple had to have a new battery.”

  Her hair done? Tally leaned toward Howie. “What day was that? Tuesday?” The day Gene died.

  “Yep, it was Tuesday. I know cuz I had bowling that night.”

  So maybe Mrs. Faust was late to her hair appointment legitimately and not because she was murdering her adopted son. And she was seeing a divorce attorney the same day? Busy woman. Tally figured there would be no reason for her to kill Gene if she was getting a divorce. It sounded like she was planning on leaving both of the men behind. Tally wondered if she would move out of town to make the break complete, although she’d heard the mayor telling her she wouldn’t get the house. That made it sound like she wanted to stay.

  When Allen started the truck toward Tally’s house, he apologized. “I would have a new battery by now if Gene had paid me what he owed me.”

  Whatever Allen Wendt’s virtues, managing his finances didn’t seem to be one of them. Missing a paycheck had made him unable to buy a battery for his truck. She wondered if truck batteries cost more than car batteries.

  Something on the floorboard rustled when she moved her feet. She peered into the darkness and thought they were lottery tickets.

  Her house lights were on when Allen pulled up in front of her home. That meant Cole was there. In fact, as they walked up the sidewalk toward the porch, Cole’s voice came from the shadows. The porch light was off. Cole rose from the glider and came down the steps.

  “Hey, Sis. Have you eaten?”

  She introduced the two men and said she had.

  “Did you bring me the leftovers?” he teased.

  “Leftovers? No way. I ate everything. Come on inside. I’ll fix you something. Do you want to come in, Allen?”

  Allen concentrated on the pavement at his feet. “I’d better get going. See you later. Nice meeting you, Cole.”

  When they got inside and Tally was scrambling eggs with cheese for Cole, she asked him what happened. “Did your Date of the Day stand you up?”

  “Aw, Sis, am I that bad?”

  “Yeah, you are. You’ve gone through Mart and Dorella so far. And you’ve been here all of a week.”

  “No, I haven’t! I’m still seeing Dorella.”

  “But not tonight?” She set his plate in front of him, then turned to feeding the cat.

  “I was…busy tonight.” He started shoveling the food into his mouth.

  Nigel came running when he heard the kibble clatter into his bowl.

  “And she’s okay with that?” The small kitchen television was on in the background. An ad touting Faust for mayor came on. The mayor’s round, bald head bobbed as he emphasized the words he was speaking. Tally reached for the remote and turned the volume up to hear.

  “I’m the man you want to keep our streets clean and crime-free. For many years now I’ve been an advocate of working with troubled youth to bring about real, lasting reform. If you reelect me as mayor—”

  Tally clicked off the set and almost slammed the remote onto the table in her anger at the man.

  “Dorella’s okay. We’re not engaged,” Cole said, after he swallowed a big bite. “Oh hell, you’ll probably find out. I was being questioned at the police station.”

  Tally plopped down at the table before she collapsed onto the floor. The ticktock of her grandmother’s clock from the next room lent insistent punctuation for a few moments. “You? Questioned? They think you killed Gene?” She frowned at the thought.

  “No, not Gene. They think I might have killed Mart.”

  Her frown vanished in comprehension. She could see how they might suspect that. The couple had broken up in anger. “You know, until she died, I thought she had probably killed Gene,” Tally said.

  “She should have. She told him she was pregnant, so he offered to marry her, then backed out. Cold right?.”

  “But she wasn’t pregnant, after all, right?”

  “She told me she wasn’t, but Detective Rogers told me that the autopsy showed she was.”

  “Oh no!” Tally clapped her hand to her mouth, horrified. Not only had Mart been murdered, but her baby had lost its life, too. “That makes everything worse. She told you she wasn’t, though. I wonder if she knew she was pregnant.”

  “Whatever, she was through with Gene.”

  “I can’t imagine him marrying anyone.”

  “From the litt
le I know, they would have made a good pair.”

  “A good pair? How so?”

  “Like Bonnie and Clyde. Two amoral, good-looking people, out to swindle everyone they could.”

  Tally nodded. He had a point. Nigel jumped into her lap, letting her pet him a few times before trying to make it onto the table and scarf down Cole’s eggs and toast. She pulled the big guy off the table and set him on the floor.

  “Anyway, do you know a good lawyer?” Cole asked. “Just in case?”

  “That’s a good idea.” Tally promised she would work on that and got up to get some cat treats. She wondered if Yolanda had called a lawyer yet.

  Tally pondered the implications of Mart’s pregnancy as she tried to fall asleep that night. Did that make it more or less likely for her to have murdered Gene? And had she even known she was truly pregnant? Impossible questions to answer, much as Tally would like to have known the answers to them.

  The next morning, Tally remembered that she’d gone to middle school with a woman who was now a secretary for the local celebrity defense lawyer. Not that Fredericksburg had terrific need for a celebrity defense lawyer, but he was the most well-known, having defended a county sheriff against sexual harassment charges—and having gotten him off.

  She woke Cole before she left the house to let him know that she would call her friend later, from the shop. He murmured a sleepy thanks, rolled over on the couch, and resumed snoring. Nigel, snuggled in the crook of his legs, gave Tally a sleepy yawn, then resumed his napping also.

  Now Tally had to remember what the classmate’s name was.

  Chapter 15

  Yolanda glanced up from the basket she was finishing for a twenty-fifth wedding anniversary celebration. She was proud of the shiny silver bows and the glittery sprayed roses adorning the beautiful basket that was filled with silver-wrapped candies, with an engraved picture frame and a small wall mirror poking up in the back. For this one, she had fastened five silver bells onto pipe-cleaner stalks and had them sticking up in front of the mirror.