Revenge Is Sweet

by Kaye George

  Tonight, her father didn’t start in on Yolanda until after the salad, inside at the long table in the vast dining hall.

  “Yolanda, are you doing okay for cash?”

  “The shop is going great, Papa. I don’t need a thing.” She coughed. Her throat felt worse. She needed to quit talking and rest. Fat chance right now.

  “How about rent? Did you make enough last month to pay the current rent?” He concentrated on the roll he was buttering instead of looking at her as he spoke.

  Yolanda pursed her lips and bit her upper teeth into her lower lip before answering. “No, Papa. Not quite.” Her bottom lip hurt. She’d been biting it too much lately and both her lips were sore and badly chapped.

  “I’ll write you a check after dinner. Remind me.” He still didn’t look at her. And he wouldn’t forget to give her the check. To shame her and make sure the point was driven home. She was merely a woman, a “girl” to him, and couldn’t earn herself a living.

  Yolanda had, when she first started the shop, appealed to her mother to try to get him to lay off and let her ask when she needed money.

  “But Yolie, dear, you would probably never ask. You might lose your shop and that would upset you, wouldn’t it?”

  Her mother didn’t have any higher opinion of her ability to be an adult than her father did. She so often envied Tally with her absent parents. Tally thought they sometimes forgot she existed. If only Yolanda’s parents would do that!

  * * * *

  There was an odd tapping at Tally’s door. Not really knocking, but a couple of uneven taps followed by two rapid ones. Was a woodpecker rapping on her door? She listened and the pattern was repeated.

  When she opened the door, Mrs. Gerg was there, empty-handed for once. The woman stuck a stubby forefinger to her lips and glanced around. “Let me in,” she whispered.

  Why was she acting so oddly? Tally wondered. She held the door open wide for Mrs. Gerg to get her considerable girth inside.

  “What’s going on? Why did you knock like that?”

  “Shh! Close the door,” Mrs. Gerg said, still whispering and winking repeatedly, screwing up her face.

  After Tally did that, Mrs. Gerg reverted to her normal voice. “I knocked in code. It’s Morse code.”

  Comprehension started dawning. “Was that Morse code for YSU, the Yard Sale Underground?” Maybe the woman had some information for her.

  “No, not that. It’s Morse for CI.”

  “CI?”

  “I’m your Confidential Informant.”

  “Ah, my CI.”

  “Don’t you watch the police shows on TV?”

  “Not that much,” Tally said, although she had heard the term CI. Had she created a monster, asking Mrs. Gerg to spy for her?

  “I have some intel,” she said. “I heard there’s going to be a big yard sale, a huge one. And guess where?”

  “I can’t.”

  “The mayor’s house. Mrs. Faust has kicked him out, and she’s telling people she’s going to sell all his belongings.”

  That sounded vindictive. How would that affect his re-election campaign? “Do you know that for sure?”

  “It’s a rumor, but it’s a good one. Mind you, that woman doesn’t always do what she says she’ll do. She’s kicked him out before and taken him back in. So…” Mrs. Gerg shrugged. “She might not go through with it. But if she does, it’ll be a great yard sale.”

  Tally was sure it would be. She decided to reserve judgment on Mrs. Gerg’s discovery and believe it when and if it happened.

  “Thanks for telling me,” she said, ushering Mrs. Gerg out the door.

  “No problem. I’ll report in when I have more intel.”

  Yes, Tally had created a monster.

  * * * *

  Yolanda felt awful by the time she got home from the dinner at her parents’ house. Her throat was so scratchy it hurt to swallow. She made some tea and poured a generous amount of honey into it, then added some wine for fortification.

  Her phone buzzed as she began to sip. It was her sister’s number.

  “Violetta? Are you okay?” Her sister never called her.

  “Yo, I need to talk to someone.”

  “Tonight? I’m getting a sore throat. I can barely croak right now.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll talk and you listen.”

  This didn’t sound like her sister at all. She wasn’t the talker, Yolanda was. But she agreed. “Is something the matter?” She had thought her sister acted happier than usual at the Saturday dinner. Had she been wrong?

  “Not yet, but it might be.” There was a moment of silence. Yolanda perched on the edge of her living room couch and pictured her sister gathering her courage to speak out. Was she going to tell her that she had found a guy? “I’ve been seeing someone.” Bingo.

  “Vi, that’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you.” In spite of her sore throat, she had to congratulate her little sister on this.

  “I’m very happy. I’ve never felt like this before. The whole world seems like a different place. A wonderful place.”

  “When do we get to meet him?”

  “Not a him, Yo. Her name is Eden. Eden Casey. Isn’t that a beautiful name?”

  Not a him. Yolanda was taken aback. She hadn’t expected this. “If you’re happy, I’m happy for you, Vi.” And she was. There had been such life in Violetta’s eyes. Yolanda had known it was from love, from finding a soul mate. “Where does she live?”

  “In Dallas.”

  Of course. That’s where Violetta lived. “When do we get to…” Oh. That was the problem. Yolanda pictured Violetta introducing a girlfriend to their parents.

  “Yes, oh. Eden wants to meet my family. I’ve met hers, and they’re wonderful people. But what would Papa say? And Mother?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but it might not be a good idea. Can we somehow introduce this gradually?” Yolanda was still feeling shocked at the sudden knowledge. She could only imagine how their parents would overreact. Because they were good at that, experts. Especially their papa.

  “I’m so glad I told you, Yo. I had to tell someone in the family.”

  “I’m glad you told me, too. We’ll figure this out. Let me think about it.”

  Yolanda sipped her tea after they hung up and after she added a bit more wine to it. There were going to be a lot of consequences to this, but she couldn’t help but feel good for her sister. She had always loved her, but she felt that she liked her a lot more tonight. After all, Vi had trusted her with her heart.

  Chapter 20

  Mid-morning on Sunday, Tally felt her phone going off in her apron pocket right after she had finished a transaction and sent a happy customer away with a box of her own version of Clark Bars. She didn’t recognize the number, but answered it anyway.

  “Ms. Holt, could you meet me for coffee some time this afternoon? Someplace close to where you work?”

  It was the detective. He must be calling on his cell phone, she thought. What did he want now? At least he didn’t want her to come to the station. Was he being considerate? If so, why? “I’m sure I could arrange that. What time?”

  “I’m off today. What’s good for you?”

  That seemed strange. “Maybe after I close up, around seven fifteen or so?”

  “Sounds good. How about the coffee shop a couple of blocks from you?”

  So, yet another time, she left Andrea in charge of closing the store while she trudged through the early evening heat to a meeting with the detective, although this time it was at the Java Joe Corral, the place she had met Allen a while ago. She didn’t know how many more times she could stand being questioned.

  Kevin ran out as she passed Bear Mountain Vineyards. “Is Yolanda okay? She didn’t open up today.”

  “I have to go meet with the police right now. I’ll
get hold of her later.”

  “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.” He seemed to be genuinely worried about Yolanda.

  But then, Tally was worried, too. She couldn’t call her now. She was too distracted. She would call her right after she got done seeing the detective.

  Her heart pounded as she pulled the door of Java Joe Corral open and was met with a burst of dark, coffee aroma.

  His gray eyes twinkled when he saw her enter. A little of her fear lifted. He was in the back of the shop, gesturing to the table next to him.

  “Good to see you outside the police station,” he said after she wended her way there through the passage of tables and chairs. His smile came off as a bit tentative. “Here, do you want to sit here?” He sounded nervous.

  “Maybe over there? I like sitting by the window.” She led the way to an empty table at the front of the store. He followed behind, more slowly.

  “Is this okay?” she asked.

  “Sure,” he said. He held her chair, then sat in his, moving it a few inches so that he wasn’t completely framed by the window. Did he not want people to see him here?

  Then it dawned on Tally. Bingo! This wasn’t an interrogation. This was a date.

  “I thought of asking you to bring me some of your candy, but I didn’t know exactly what I wanted. Maybe we can stop there after coffee and I’ll pick up some things.”

  Tally’s smile was automatic. A date and a sale. This day was looking up.

  After Detective Rogers (“please call me Jackson”) brought lattes to their table, they chatted a bit about Fredericksburg.

  “What are those old, tiny houses?” he asked. “They’re odd. There are quite a few of them, and I’ve never seen any others like that.”

  Tally thought for a moment. “Oh, you mean the Sunday Houses? Are you not from here?”

  “I grew up in Dallas. My grandparents on my dad’s side came from this town, and I visited a few times as a small child before they passed away. But my grandparents weren’t much for touring their own town. I guess I never noticed them as a child. It’s been years since I’ve been here.”

  “How long have you been in Fredericksburg? Did you just move here?”

  “A few months ago. This is only my second felony case in this town.”

  Tally wondered what the first one had been.

  “So, tell me about these Sunday Houses,” he said.

  “I don’t know if they exist anywhere else, but here in Fredericksburg, they were built by the local farmers in the 1800s so they would have a place to stay in town for the weekend when they came in to go to church. There weren’t any churches out in the country. They’re all in town. So the farmers had to come to town for Sunday. Some of them had to drive far and stayed the whole weekend. That’s why they’re small, they’re second houses.”

  “They seem like they’re in good shape.”

  “Yes, they’re well preserved. A lot of them are rented out to tourists now.”

  “I’d love to see inside one,” he said.

  She felt a text ping her phone and slipped it out of her jeans pocket to sneak a peek. It was from Yolanda.

  “Do you have to take that?” he asked.

  She hadn’t been as surreptitious as she thought she’d been. “Do you mind? It’s from Yolanda.” Tally clamped her lips together, too late. Maybe she shouldn’t mention the main suspect right here and right now. But something was wrong if Yolanda hadn’t worked today.

  Yolanda had texted that she was home with a sore throat and asked if Tally could please bring her some cough syrup from the drugstore, and maybe some lip balm, too. Tally told her she could, in about an hour. Yolanda was agreeable. Being sick was better than being in jail, she texted.

  Tally had an idea. “Say,” she said, sticking the phone into her pocket, “I need to bring some medicine to Yolanda. She’s home sick. And…she lives in a Sunday House. Would you like to stop by to see the inside?” Maybe if Jackson visited Yo at her home, it would humanize her to him and he could think of her as something other than a murderer.

  “Sure. That would be interesting.”

  Or, he might catch something from Yolanda. Which would serve him right for suspecting her and Cole. Tally wouldn’t mention how expensive the Sunday House was to rent, or how wealthy Yo’s family was. He probably already knew.

  After a stop to grab a bottle of cough medicine and a tube of lip balm, Jackson drove to the Sunday House.

  Jackson looked the place over as they came up the sidewalk to the porch of the tiny place. The yellow-painted wood siding glowed in the streetlamp. A staircase ran up the wall at their right to a door that led to the second half-story.

  “Why does she want to live in such a small space?” he asked.

  “It’s got an addition on the rear that you can’t see. And it’s plenty of room for one person.” Although Tally’s house, which was not large, was much larger than this one. “It’s got a living area, kitchen, bedroom, and bath.”

  “What’s on the second floor?”

  “That used to be where the wives and children slept, while the men slept downstairs. But it’s an extra room for Yolanda. She uses it for storage.”

  Yolanda met them at the door wrapped in a fluffy white robe, her nose red and her eyes runny. “Do you want to come in?” she croaked.

  “You look terrible,” Tally said. “Are you sure you want us to come in?”

  “Us?” Yolanda looked startled, and Tally realized she hadn’t seen the detective. “Um, no, you’d better not.” Yolanda coughed hoarsely and took the drugstore bag from her. She motioned Tally to come closer, though.

  Tally didn’t want to be too near Yolanda’s germs, but she leaned her head toward Yo’s puffy, red face. Jackson stepped away to give them privacy. She thought that was considerate of him.

  “What is wrong with you?” she whispered. Tally inched a bit closer to hear her. “Why are you going around with the policeman? Why did you bring him here? To search my place?”

  “Don’t be silly,” she said, also whispering. “We were having some coffee and he said he’d like to see a Sunday House.”

  “So you wanted to show him mine? I’m about to give up on your whole family. You, your rotten brother, your crazy parents.”

  Tally straightened up and talked aloud. “What about my brother? And my parents? Okay, my parents are odd, but what do you have against my brother?”

  “You don’t even know, do you? You’ve never known. I should date him and drop him cold so he can find out how it feels. I really should.”

  Yolanda slammed the door in Tally’s gaping face.

  Detective Rogers, who had been standing a few feet away for their private conversation, stepped up to Tally and touched her back. “What was that all about?”

  “Well…” Tally shook her head. “She’s right about one thing. I have no idea what it was about. Maybe feeling sick is making her extra cranky. Maybe you can see her place another time.”

  “That would be best. Neither one of us wants to catch whatever it is she has. It’s looks like nasty stuff.”

  “Poor Yolanda.” Poor Tally. What on earth was wrong with her friend? This was no way to make a good impression on Jackson Rogers.

  The ride home was uneventful. He thanked her for the glimpse he’d gotten of Yolanda’s Sunday House. He stopped his car in front of her home, and she let herself out. She spotted Andrea, out jogging in the dark, turning the corner at the far end of the block.

  Cole wasn’t there, but had left the living room television on, playing softly to an audience of one. Nigel. Another campaign ad for Mayor Josef Faust’s reelection was running. She was getting tired of them, of the thoughts that they unleashed in her. What if he had murdered his son for sympathy, to win the election? Or what if he had murdered him so Gene wouldn’t continue embarrassing him and ruining h
is chances at winning? She snatched up the remote and switched off the set. The house settled into the relative silence of the soft ticktock from the clock on the mantel.

  Nigel, who was perched on the table in front of the television, flicked his ears and swished his tail, annoyed that the interesting lights and movements had been switched off, she thought.

  She pondered Yolanda’s odd behavior for a long time as she slowly ate a light supper. Somehow she would have to find out exactly what had gone on between her brother and her friend. Yolanda had been her best friend in the time before Tally moved away, but she’d been gone for a few years. People changed. Maybe she didn’t know who Yolanda was now.

  A clap of thunder announced a brief, heavy downpour. It was unusual to get this much rain in July in Texas. At least they weren’t in drought right now. That was devastating on the wine crop, and everything else. The deluge was short-lived. That part was usual.

  As the rain let up and retreated to dripping from the eaves, Tally shrugged off her questions about Yolanda’s behavior and changed the direction of her thoughts. Curious about Detective Rogers’s other big case, she picked up her tablet from the end table and searched for it. A list of local crimes came up, but none of them murders. Had he said it was a murder case? She thought back. No, he said this was his second “felony” case. So maybe this was his first murder here? She wondered if it was the first murder case in his career. She hoped not. That might mean he didn’t know how to solve one.

  Chapter 21

  Tally woke up partway when she heard Cole come in. He’d probably been out with Dorella, she thought. A glance at her bedside clock told her it was two a.m. The lateness of the hour wasn’t a problem for Cole, but she wondered if Dorella had to work in the morning. Tally had to, for sure. She lay awake for at least an hour listening to a light rain dripping through the rainspout outside her window.

  The alarm clock roused her early, after a too short night. She had a thought of waking Cole up, since he was part of the reason she’d missed her sleep. But, she had to admit to herself, only part of the reason. Truly, her mind had been whirring and her stomach churning at all the uncertainty and accusations. She wasn’t used to Yolanda being angry with her. She was suspicious of Allen after beginning to form an attachment to him. She wasn’t even sure she could trust Andrea, or Dorella. Maybe she should keep good relations with Cole before she alienated everyone she knew.