A Killing Notion: A Magical Dressmaking Mystery

by Bourbon, Melissa

  Mama’s charm worked year-round, and the greenhouse was like her cauldron. I leaned against the doorframe and filled her in on my theory.

  She brushed a stray lock of hair away from her eyes, folded her arms, one hand still holding a pair of clippers, and listened. When I was done, she arched one brow and said, “A double life, darlin’, are you sure?”

  I couldn’t blame her for asking. Sure, scenarios like this were in Lifetime movies, but did they honestly happen in real life?

  It did sound crazy when I said it out loud, but the bottom line was that I couldn’t change the facts. “It was him, Mama, I’m one hundred percent sure of it.”

  She put down her clippers and peeled off her gardening gloves. Her shiny gold wedding band glistened as it caught the light. I still found myself smiling when I saw the ring and thought about how happy she was. She’d come mighty close to not marrying Hoss McClaine, the cowboy sheriff of her dreams, but my charm had worked its magic, she’d seen the light, and the rest was history.

  “So let me just see if I have this straight,” she said. Around her, the plants lined up on the shelves of the greenhouse seemed to stand a little perkier, as if they were ready to listen to her recount the story. “You’re saying that Eddy Blake, owner of the original Bubba’s in Granbury, and Christopher Montgomery, co-owner of both Bubba’s shops and husband to Miss Reba, were one and the same?”

  “That about sums it up, Mama.”

  She picked up a galvanized watering can and sprinkled the flowers. “And what’s your theory as to why he would do such a low-down dirty thing to both those women, darlin’?”

  I ran my finger along a purple petal of a nearby flower. I’d been pondering this very question, and the answer I’d come up with was simple, and it was also the only thing that made sense. “I think he fell in love with Miss Reba, but he still loved Barbara Ann, so instead of forgoing his new love or saying good-bye to his original love, he decided to have his cake and eat it, too.”

  Mama stared at a lush fern for a good long while. Before my eyes, the tips of the fern’s leaves browned and the fronds began to droop. “I found myself a good man, Harlow, but dang it all, some men just can’t do right by the women who’ve stood by them.”

  I knew she was thinking about my daddy and how he’d turned tail and run when he’d seen the Cassidy magic firsthand. “Mama,” I said, breaking her trance.

  She blinked, registering the browning fern, and dropped her hands to her sides. Three deep breaths and a good shaking of her arms and hands released the burst of anger she’d been feeling, and the fern started to recover.

  I continued with my theory. “From what I’ve gathered, he was Eddy Blake before he became Chris Montgomery,” I said.

  “What makes you think so?”

  “Otis and Sally. They knew Eddy and have been around since Bubba’s in Granbury opened. Chris Montgomery joined the business later, sometime after the Bliss Bubba’s opened.”

  “So it really was because he fell for Miss Reba.” Mama snipped away at the newly dead bits of the fern, shaking her head. “If he weren’t already passed, he should be strung up by his toes. Those poor women.”

  “Do you know how Miss Reba met him?” I asked.

  Mama stopped clipping and perched her backside on a stool. She brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen onto her forehead. “You know, I don’t rightly remember, Harlow. Reba can tell a good tale, but I don’t know that I ever heard that story.”

  I recounted what Miss Reba had told me at her husband’s funeral about meeting him when she went into the Bliss Bubba’s for a service, and how he’d swept her off her feet, taking her to Porterhouse on Vine, then to Dairy Queen. “She told me he was a real spitfire. Sally Levon described Eddy the same way. I know I’m right, Mama.” I pressed my palm to my chest. “I know it.”

  I took my thinking a little bit further. Living a double life was risky under perfect circumstances, but hiding the truth from everyone in two towns so close together? Would that even be possible? He had to have had help. And there was only one person I could think of who was in a position to help both Eddy and Chris.

  Otis Levon.

  I’d been pondering a motive for Otis that had to do with ownership shares of Bubba’s. If he did know the truth, he’d had a lot of leverage and power over his boss.

  The more I thought about it, the more convinced I was that Otis had to have been in on the secret. He’d admitted that he’d known both men. He worked at both stores. How could he not have known the truth?

  The what-ifs started rolling into my brain.

  What if Eddy/Chris had offered to buy Otis’s silence with part ownership in the business? Of course five percent ownership was hardly enough to keep anyone silent for long.

  What if Otis had tried to blackmail Eddy/Chris, something had gone wrong, and Otis had killed his boss?

  Or, what if Eddy/Chris had agreed to add Otis to his will, and that had been enough of a motive to kill?

  What if I was just whistling Dixie?

  “But I’m not,” I said under my breath.

  “You’re not what, Harlow?” Mama said. She’d picked up her gardening shears again and had started trimming back a miniature rose bush.

  “Woolgathering?”

  My head shot up at the sound of Hoss McClaine’s slow Southern voice and the crunch of gravel under his boots.

  “More like snake hunting,” I answered, glad it was Hoss I would be telling my story to, and not Gavin. They were both stubborn as all get-out, but the elder McClaine, while curmudgeonly, was more levelheaded than his son. Gavin had some big law enforcement shoes to fill, and sometimes he tried just a trifle too hard.

  I proceeded to retell my theory about Chris Montgomery and Eddy Blake, their double life, two wives and families, and my suspicion that Otis Levon knew the truth and had helped his friend keep up the ruse.

  Hoss was silent for a good long moment, and then simply nodded. “Interesting,” he said. After another beat, he added, “Good work, Harlow.”

  A compliment from Hoss McClaine wasn’t given easily, and didn’t happen often. I dipped my head and almost felt an aw shucks coming. Instead, I smiled and said, “Thanks, Sheriff.”

  But no matter how proud I felt of what I’d discovered, it didn’t change the fact that two women’s lives were not what they seemed, that two kids would soon learn that their father had also belonged to another child, and that someone had likely killed him because of the duplicity.

  Chapter 14

  As I arrived back at Buttons & Bows, my mind was still reeling from my discovery. It was not a normal scenario by any stretch. What I knew for certain was that the suspect pool had now quadrupled. If any of the people in either of the families knew the truth, one of them could have reacted badly and sought their revenge. Suddenly Barbara Ann Blake, Reba Montgomery, and both Shane and Teagen’s motives had strengthened.

  I’d phoned Will after I left Mama and Hoss and told him I had some news. He said he’d meet me at Buttons & Bows. True to his word, he’d hightailed it over to my house and was there to greet me when I pulled into the long driveway, which ran along the left side of the little yellow farmhouse. I parked under the row of possum-wood trees, jumped out of the truck, and practically fell into his arms. “You’re never going to believe this,” I said to him.

  “Try me.”

  We headed through the gate, walking over the flagstone path. I started at the beginning, telling him about my visit with Mrs. Blake, but as the porch came into view, so did Thelma Louise. The feisty goat stood at the base of the porch steps and raised her nose, her fathomless yellow eyes staring at us nonchalantly. Something hung from her mouth. My heart lurched as I realized what it was.

  A mum!

  “Oh no!” I took off in a run, clapping and calling her name. “Stop that, Thelma Louise! Shoo! Shoo! NO!”

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nbsp; She looked at me like she didn’t have a care in the world. Her jaw worked as she continued gnawing at the mum. The nearly completed base with loops of red ribbon to form the flower, and strands of red, black, and white ribbons creating the drape were mashed. I looked more closely, recognizing some of the trinkets: a rhinestone B for Bliss, a miniature vintage car, an enormous cowbell that clinked every time Thelma Louise moved her mouth, a flower clipped onto a wide piece of ribbon, and curly silver trim that added shimmery volume to the strands of the mum. It was Danica’s. Another minute or two in the goat’s mouth and all her hard work would be ruined. “How did you get that?” I demanded, glaring at Thelma Louise.

  She didn’t answer, of course, just continued staring at me with her bulbous eyes.

  “Don’t think you’re gonna get out of this,” I said, wagging my finger at her. I advanced, holding out my hand to take back the mum.

  She backed up, never looking away.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw the open window to the dining room. “Ah, so that’s how you did it,” I said. The mums the girls had been working on had been left on the table. “You stuck your head in there and grabbed one, didn’t you?” Under my breath, I said, “Meemaw, why didn’t you stop her?”

  Of course there was no answer. Loretta Mae, wherever she was, was probably having one good belly laugh right about now. She never had been one for the whole Texas mum tradition, so to see one of Nana’s goats chowing down on the ribbon extravaganza probably filled her with all kinds of joy.

  But it didn’t fill me with any because now I’d have to remake the mum. As it was, half the flower portion was in the goat’s mouth. It was a crushed, mushy mess, and I’d never send Danica out with a mum in that state. If I was lucky, I’d be able to salvage the lower half, which was the most unique part. A new base wouldn’t take me too long to put together.

  But Thelma Louise wasn’t going to give up the mum easily. She stared me down, almost taunting me. Behind me, I’d heard Will’s truck door slam and the sound of his boots crunching across the path as he came back. “Rope,” he said from behind me.

  I nodded, keeping my attention squarely on Thelma Louise. If the goat sensed any weakness on my part, she’d take off and I’d never get the mum back. That would never do. At this point, it was personal. I was in charge, not the Nubian, and she was not going to abscond with Danica’s homecoming mum.

  I inched forward, my body cocked forward at the waist. Thelma Louise stood her ground. It felt like it took forever, but we were finally just a foot apart. The trailing ribbons blew in the breeze. I almost grabbed for them, but stopped myself. The staples holding the mum together would give, the ribbons would just yank right off and Thelma Louise would escape with her plunder.

  No, I needed to get ahold of the flower base.

  Thelma Louise was not going to win this battle.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Will skirt around the perimeter of the yard, ready to intercept Thelma Louise if she bolted and leapt down the side steps of the porch. I felt like we were Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday in a dusty Old West town, arms bent at the ready before a shoot-out. I cocked my arms, slid my feet forward just a tad more, sucked in a deep breath, and . . .

  . . . lunged.

  My arm shot out and I grabbed hold of the part of the mum base Thelma Louise didn’t have in her mouth. I pulled, but she put her weight into it and yanked back, dragging me with her. She shook her head, trying to knock my hand away. She was a wiry thing, and a lot stronger than she looked.

  But I was wiry, too, in spirit, if not in physique. I got my other hand around the streaming ribbons, winding the bunch around my hand, gingerly working my way closer, careful not to yank the ribbons right off the base. A minute later, Thelma Louise and I were nose to nose. She flipped her head back, knocking my glasses askew on my face. I couldn’t fix them, though. I wouldn’t release the mum. No way was the goat winning this battle.

  “Darlin’,” Will said from behind Thelma Louise. “You can let go. I’m right here.”

  I peered up at him. Without my glasses on, and being tugged by Thelma Louise’s ratcheting head, he was a dark blur more than anything else. “She’s not going to win,” I said through clenched teeth.

  “Neither are you.” I couldn’t see the smirk, but I could hear it, and it made me dig my heels in and pull harder. “Be careful,” he said, and suddenly he was moving toward me. “If Thelma Louise lets go, you’re gonna go fl—”

  Before he could finish the sentence, the diabolical goat did let go. The release of tension was sudden and immediate and I was hurled backward, literally flying through the air just like Will had been in the middle of warning me. But he’d already been on the move, anticipating Thelma Louise’s next play. He managed to break my fall before I crashed, back flat, against the porch.

  My glasses were knocked clean off my face, I was half sprawled on top of Will, but I clutched the slobbery mum to my chest, clearly the victor in the battle against the grand dam of Nana’s herd.

  “Take that,” I said to her as Will dislodged himself from under me. In seconds flat, he had Thelma Louise contained.

  I retrieved my glasses and peered at her, now tethered with the rope Will had brought from his truck. “Do you think she planned all along to let go, or do you think she heard you say it?”

  Will arched an eyebrow at me, looking for all the world like he thought I’d gone crazy, but Thelma Louise bared her teeth, either side of her mouth tilting up. That was a guileful goat smile if I’d ever seen one. “Never mind,” I said. I had my answer. I V’d my index and middle fingers, directing them at my eyes, then flipped my hand to angle my pointer finger at her. “I’m watching you,” I said to her.

  “You about done, Mr. Byrnes?” Will said, stifling a laugh at my impersonation of Robert DeNiro in Meet the Parents.

  “For now.” I headed toward the front door, throwing one more warning glance over my shoulder at the goat. Will took her back to my grandmother’s property, which butted up against mine. Instead of going inside, I sat in one of the rockers on the front porch. The chair started its back-and-forth rocking motion without the help of my feet pushing off. The other chair rocked, too.

  Meemaw.

  I bit back the chastisement hovering on the tip of my tongue. Now she decided to make an appearance? She couldn’t have, say, put a stop to Thelma Louise taking the mum in the first place, or maybe lent a little muscle against the goat when I’d been trying to get it back?

  In the distance, I could hear a low chuckle. “Go ahead and have your laugh, Meemaw,” I said, the words snatched away by the breeze.

  Will got back and sat, not noticing that his chair had been moving. “She behind bars?” I asked, knowing that there were no pens or gates that could contain Thelma Louise.

  “She’s back at Sundance Kids,” he said.

  We rocked in silence for a minute. After I let go of my aggravation with Thelma Louise, I went back to the murder and to what I’d been about to tell him before the mum debacle.

  I told him about recognizing Eddy Blake as Chris Montgomery in the picture Sally had shown me, and the phone numbers programmed into Eddy Blake’s cell phone. “He had two families and they practically lived right under each other’s noses,” I said, wrapping up my theory. “It’s just . . . just . . . worse than . . . than I don’t even know what. Worse than a pickled watermelon.”

  “That’s pretty bad,” he said, grimacing. He planted his boots on the porch and stopping the rocking motion of his chair. “Maybe they just resemble each other.”

  “I’ve tried to convince myself of that, but no. They don’t resemble each other. They are each other,” I said. “And there’s more. Both wives said their husband stayed overnight at the other shop. Plus neither one liked to be photographed. He was pretty young, right? He told both Reba and Barbara Ann that he didn’t want his photo on display at his own fun
eral. Why would he say that unless he was protecting his secret? So,” I finished, “that’s why I think Chris Montgomery and Eddy Blake were never in the photos with their families. Bliss and Granbury are both small towns. He couldn’t take a chance that someone would recognize him from the wrong photo.”

  “He was taking a hell of a chance,” Will said.

  I couldn’t agree more. Another thought struck me. I stopped the chair from rocking and my back straightened. “That’s why they always sat at the picnic table!”

  Will raised a curious eyebrow. “Who’re they, and what picnic table?”

  “Barbara Ann Blake said that whenever she went to Bubba’s, she and Eddy wouldn’t ever go inside, they’d go sit at the picnic table. Strange, right?”

  “Is it?”

  I nodded. “It is.” I pointed at him for emphasis. “Unless you don’t want the people in the shop to know anything about your personal life.”

  I shared with him the final bit of discovery. “Otis Levon, aka Bubba, has known Eddy from the beginning. He moved to the Bliss shop to help run things there, so he worked with Chris Montgomery every day. Which means—”

  “He knew.” Will stared past the front yard at Mockingbird Lane. “So what are you thinking? Otis tampered with Chris’s car hoping he’d crash? But why? It’s hardly a foolproof murder plan, especially for someone who really knows cars.”

  That was the one major flaw in the theory. I was sure there were others, I just didn’t know what they were yet. “Maybe he got tired of keeping his boss’s secret and tried to extort him. Them. Him.”

  “But if he was supporting two families, there wouldn’t have been a lot of extra money to go around.”

  There was another flaw. “Right,” I said, feeling my brows pull together.

  “I can’t think of another reason, though, so let’s just go with that theory,” he said. “If Otis Levon killed his boss, is he actively trying to frame Shane?”

  Good question. Had he planted the flask of vodka, the printout of the steering system, and the shirt in Shane’s locker? If he had, there ought to be video of him in the building. I made a mental note to ask Hoss about this, in case he didn’t think of it himself.