by Kym Roberts
“Can’t, or won’t?”
I didn’t have to answer that question since Mateo pulled into the lot and got out of his car.
“Charli Rae. I thought you might be behind this.”
In the last couple days, I hadn’t heard a word from Mateo. His anger was unwarranted, and if I was honest, his attitude and lack of calling had hurt my feelings, but that was something he didn’t really need to know. Unfortunately, I think my irritation came out in my abrupt response. “That’s a mighty fine greeting, Mateo. Behind what?”
A squeal of delight followed by a couple giggles from behind the bar was the perfect distraction to save Mateo and drew our attention away from our conversation. One look at Mateo showed me we were on the same page. Why in the Sam Hill were a couple of girls playing behind the bar at this time of day, in this weather?
Aunt Violet, however, was on a completely different wavelength. Especially when she saw two women scurrying behind the bar. Her eyes widened.
“They don’t have a ladies’ night here with those male strippers, do they?”
“Good grief. This is Hazel Rock, not Dallas,” I said. “Besides, the men in this town couldn’t handle the competition.”
The corner of Mateo’s mouth quirked. “I stand corrected. My apologies, Charli. It appears we’ve found the source of my call.”
“You got a call on two women behind the bar?”
“They said a couple women were snooping around the back of the bar. Joe and Leila took the night off and the manager didn’t know how to handle it.”
“Handle what?”
“I’ll tell you later. Ms. Violet, it was nice to see you again.” Mateo nodded. It was the type of head tilt you’d expect from a cowboy wearing a hat, except Mateo didn’t wear a hat unless it was a ball cap. “Charli.” He headed toward the back of the Shed.
“Want to find out what’s so much fun back there?” Aunt Violet asked.
When I stared at her in disbelief, she grabbed my arm and began to lecture me. “You’ve never been one to voluntarily take the back seat in the bus. I’m not going to let you do it now just because you’re unsure of what man you want to impress.”
“I don’t want to impress anyone, period. I just want to live my life.”
“Your mom wasn’t one to be willy-nilly, and I’m certainly not going to let you be that way.”
“Violet, can’t we just let Mateo do his job and go inside and have a drink?”
“Drink?” She pulled harder on my arm. “I didn’t come here to drink, I came to find out what’s going on in this town of yours.”
I wasn’t sure what was going on. How could I tell her what had gotten into the people when I had no idea why every woman in town seemed to be congregating behind the bar in what looked like some kind of do-it-yourself excavation site…or an amateur CSI party.
Fuzz buckets.
There were at least ten women wearing white onesie paint suits over their clothing. Their shoes were covered with white booties that were no longer white but covered in mud. The first two I recognized were Betty and Daisy, their gray heads bent over examining the blood moon that had been painted on the dumpster the night Eduardo died. Daisy held a magnifying glass up to her eye and a knife in her other hand as she scraped the paint onto a glass slide held by Betty. Several times Betty’s hands shook about the time Daisy would try to put the fruits of her labor on the glass. Then she’d glare at Betty who glared right back.
Mateo hesitated.
“Isn’t that your crime scene?” I asked
“Two days ago, that was my crime scene. Today, it’s private property a bunch of woman have decided to dig up.”
“What are they doing?” Aunt Violet’s expression of disbelief was priceless. She was getting a firsthand look at the charm of Hazel Rock’s community at work.
“If their hats are any indication”—Mateo looked to me for verification—“I believe they are the Mystery Moms hard at work trying to solve a crime.”
Aunt Violent looked on in awe. “Are they a specially trained unit or something?”
Mateo hid his smile at Violet’s innocent question. “I’d say ‘or something’ fits the bill perfectly. What do you think, Charli?”
My aunt turned to me for an explanation. “Hazel Rock just started a local chapter of Mystery Moms. It’s a nationwide book club that has chapters throughout the country. They meet once a month and talk about a recent mystery they read that month.”
“And they’re qualified to do crime scene investigation?”
Mateo got a kick out of my aunt’s question. Especially since she used the same logic he used with me when I stuck my nose in police business. “If you’ll excuse me ladies.” He winked and walked away, leaving me to defend my own actions while not condoning the Mystery Moms. Although, I wasn’t sure I disapproved of their idea to take a second look at the crime scene. Their methods just seemed a bit over the top.
“They argue each month about who solved the murder first. Whoever solved it first is the Book Barn Princess of the month, so it comes down to what page, sometimes what paragraph, of the book they solved it at, and how they came to their conclusion. They probably know the story better than the author does when it’s all said and done.”
“How can they determine who’s telling the truth? One could say she figured it out on page one.”
I agreed with her logic, but told her about their process. “They actually write down their page number and the reasons for their deduction before the meeting. Technically, they could go back and say, this clue tipped the scales for them after they read the entire book, so a large part is based on the honor system.”
“Who decides who wins?”
“It’s a group consensus and then Dad crowns the winner.”
“Crowns the winner?”
“I know it sounds silly, but to the Mystery Moms, that tiara means bragging rights.”
“What makes them think they can solve a real murder?”
“They’re just trying to help.” I wasn’t sure if Mateo would agree, but he cared about them just the same. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have walked around the shoe print Isabella Youngblood was removing in a plaster cast. He wouldn’t have waited patiently for Sugar to finish videotaping an interview with Liza Twaine before talking to her. And he certainly wouldn’t have moved back out of the way as one of the women took a Dustbuster and collected dirt from the edge of the patio. Nor would he have tolerated Reba Sue splattering graphite powder from an art kit all over the front of his uniform shirt as she turned a flirtatious smile in his direction. He wouldn’t have put up with any of it, if he didn’t think the world of these women.
But that didn’t mean he was happy. At least I didn’t think so, until he turned around with a smile on his face as he walked back toward us. Mateo rarely smiled, but the grin creeping up to his cheeks apparently got the best of his self-control.
“Sugar’s in charge. It seems she talked to Leila and got her permission. I’m not sure Leila knows exactly what the women we’re going to be doing, but…” He winked and tipped his head. “You ladies have a nice evening,” he said, then sauntered over to his police car and left.
“Maybe we should join the Mystery Moms.” Aunt Violet started to walk toward the women but I stopped her.
“Let’s go get a drink. I have no doubt they’ll end up inside when they’re done.”
Happy hour at the Shed was quiet for a Thursday night. I suspected most of that was due to the women out back making their significant others take up where they left off with the responsibilities to the kids and their activities. Jessie Mahan was seated at the bar, hunched over a beer, looking like a lonesome cowboy. I knew better, the old rodeo star was happily married to Daisy.
“What’s going on, Jessie?”
Jessie looked up from his half-empty mug and smiled. “Princess, I have yet
to be formerly introduced to your lovely aunt. Ma’am.” Jessie took off his hat, exposing his thinning gray hair, and stood to pull out the two stools next to him.
My aunt took the first seat and I sat next to her, warning her before she put her foot in her mouth. “Jessie’s married to one of the Mystery Moms.”
“Really?” She turned toward Jessie. “Were you abandoned for her career in crime fighting?”
Jessie smiled. “You’d be surprised how easily that woman can spot a killer.”
I would argue that point since she hadn’t suspected a long-term resident of anything heinous a few months back, but I knew better than to disparage Daisy’s talents according to Jessie.
“You don’t mind her scraping blood off the dumpster behind the bar?”
Jessie’s smile wavered. I nudged my aunt who could never hold anything back.
“They’re fine, Jessie. Mateo was just there with them.”
Jessie’s smile returned. “It’s nice to know the sheriff isn’t afraid to accept help from the community.”
Mateo welcomed help, just not meddling.
Noise at the back of the bar signaled the arrival of the Mystery Moms. The few patrons in the bar turned to see what the commotion was as the women made their way inside. A couple of strangers took one look at all the white suits and decided they weren’t taking a chance with their heath. They gulped down the last of their drinks and hit the front door.
Daisy spotted my aunt sitting next to her husband and made a beeline for us. Jessie stood, but Daisy put her back to him and faced off with my aunt. “That’s my husband,” she warned.
“Drats. I was hoping he was single.” My aunt held out her hand.
Daisy eyed it for a moment and then shook it. “Daisy Mahan.”
“Violet Harris. It’s nice to meet you. You’re one lucky woman.”
“I am.”
Jessie kissed her cheek. “Have you figured it out yet?”
Daisy coolly accepted his kiss like she was at work and couldn’t display affection on duty. “We’re working on it. But I can’t tell you anything else. This is an investigation.”
Jessie’s face got serious. “Of course, dear. I wouldn’t expect anything but the utmost professionalism from you and your group.”
The women scattered across the bar in little cliques while Reba Sue and Isabella gathered their brown paper bags and stashed them in the back room of the bar. The music kicked up a notch and the women were laughing, having a good time, telling dirty jokes and war stories like this really was a cop bar after hours. Scarlet joined us along with her little sister, Joellen, but they didn’t look very happy, and it was only when Scarlet and I had a moment alone that I found out why.
“J. C. Calloway is stirring up trouble,” she said.
That sick feeling in my stomach returned. It’d been gone maybe an hour, and I knew the reprieve was too good to be true. “What’s he doing?” I asked.
“He’s down at the diner saying none of this would’ve happened without Jamal’s app.”
“You’re kidding me?”
“I wish I was. Because there was a group of people headed toward the Barn, ready to demand that you and Bobby Ray shut down the app.”
Aunt Violet leaned over the bar and stared Scarlet down. “Did I hear you say you were going to shut down my boy’s app?”
Scarlet squirmed. “No, not me…”
“Then who?” Aunt Violet was standing with her hands on her hips, a stance I knew very well. Apparently, I’d learned it from the very best.
I let Scarlet off the hook. “The former mayor thinks the app is a danger to society. He’s only trying to look out for the town and his wife. She found the first murder victim.”
“I’m sorry she did,” my aunt said. “But that has nothing to do with my boy’s app.”
“It probably doesn’t.” At least I hoped it didn’t. “It did, however, lead Penelope Calloway to find the body of Delbert Perkins.”
“I think we’re done here, Charli. I want to go back to the Barn and hear exactly what this J. C. Calloway has to say.”
My aunt threw down a twenty-dollar bill to pay for our tab and turned toward the door. “Will that cover our bill?” she asked.
“That’s more than enough.”
“Then let’s go, Charli Rae. We have a politician who needs to be put in his place.”
I looked to Scarlet to see if she was going to join us.
“What kind of beautician would I be if I didn’t go with you and get the latest scoop?”
I smiled and gave her a quick hug before following my aunt out of the bar. Little did I know, Scarlet signaled the Mystery Moms to follow us out of the bar. It was going to be a showdown bigger than the O.K. Corral.
J. C. would never know what hit him.
Chapter Nineteen
Aunt Violet walked in the front door of the Barn with a swish of the automatic doors and soft ding of the bell. Her jaw was hardened and her eyes sparkled.
J. C. was standing at the front register with five other prominent men in our community. Cade was with him. I wasn’t gonna lie, I was disappointed. Never had I thought Cade would stand with his daddy against my own…but there he was. And Daddy had put himself in between those hostile men and Jamal—who was over a foot taller than him.
The image reminded me of a lynching mob with one man standing between death and honor. I think Aunt Violet saw the same thing. A growl rose from somewhere deep in her gut and the men finally took notice of the wrath of Aunt Violet. They parted like the proverbial Red Sea, except this one was all white.
When Jamal saw his mom stalking the community leaders, he pushed out from behind the counter and said, “Where have you been? Do you realize I’ve been worried sick about you?”
He walked through the men untouched, but Aunt Violet didn’t trust the calm in the room. She pushed her son behind her and squared off with J. C.
“What exactly is going on here, J. C.?”
J. C. cleared his throat, the only hint of his discomfort with Violet questioning his authority, or maybe it was guilt. Being caught acting like the town bully could do that to a man.
“The town council and I came here to talk some sense into the boy.”
“My boy has a name. It’s Jamal.”
Cade took control before J. C. swallowed the foot in his mouth. “Violet, the council wanted to ask Jamal and Bobby Ray if they would stop the app, temporarily until the sheriff got control of his investigation.”
“Got control of my investigation? I think the question here would be whether the town council has control of its members.”
I hadn’t heard Mateo walk in behind me, nor had I noticed the band of women in white who seemed to be on the wrong side of this mob. But their folded arms, stern looks, and glares could cut those men off at the knees. It was enough to make every man in the room take a step back, including Jamal. They stood behind Mateo like his army of white knights riding to the rescue.
“That came out wrong,” Cade said. “I meant to say, after the homicides were solved. That’s all we’re asking.”
“No one knows whether the homicides are connected to the app or to the book signing.” Violet’s outrage stirred. “It could be a coincidence and a sick individual trying to scare this community….and you ninnies are falling right into his hands.”
Mateo took a stance I hadn’t expected. “Let’s not draw conclusions about two homicides being connected until the actual investigators determine there is a connection.”
Violet agreed. “You’re right, Sheriff. No one should be jumping to conclusions about anything. It’s best to wait and go on with our lives the way we have been, including allowing my son to run his business in peace.”
“You’re right, Violet,” Cade added. “The town council should’ve approached the situation in a more profe
ssional manner. Why don’t we table this idea until the council meeting next Monday?”
“By next Monday, the sheriff could have two more dead bodies on his hands,” grumbled J. C.
“And my father won’t harass your son anymore,” Cade promised with a stern look for his father as he grabbed J. C. by the arm and began pulling him out of the Barn. This time a sea of white opened with smug looks of satisfaction covering the faces of the women who had stood behind us. Their exit, however, had a dam blocking it. At the door stood one very disappointed Penelope Calloway.
“In thirty-five years of marriage, I don’t think you’ve ever humiliated me more,” Penelope said. “If I hadn’t sent your son to talk some sense into you, the good Lawd only knows what you would’ve done tonight.”
“Now, Penelope. You should be at home resting where it’s safe.”
“Coddling me will not keep me safe. It will put me in the funny farm. Tomorrow I’ll be working with the Mystery Moms, and we’re going to help the sheriff solve these murders so that Bobby Ray and Princess can help her cousin launch the best promotion for reading I’ve seen in years. The possibilities this young man has come up with to grab the interests of the young kids captivated by the electronic age is astounding. I, for one, want to be known as someone who supported and encouraged such an entrepreneurial endeavor. Because whether you realize it or not, J. C. Calloway, this app is good for our community. For our children, for our children’s children, and for us. It’s exciting to try to collect the clues. It got me off our couch and out in the community more than I’ve been in months. I hardly think that’s bad for my health.”
Penelope walked over and shook Jamal’s hand. “You’re brilliant, young man. I can’t wait to see what you do next. But in the meantime, I plan on playing Book Seekers as much as possible. Because I’ve surely enjoyed the time I’ve spent competing and working with other people playing the app. Thank you.”
Jamal looked stunned. And Violet teared up with unabashed pride for her son. I was surprised to see that Cade’s eyes also reflected a glimmer of pride for his mom. And I was relieved that he hadn’t been among the men of the town council who tried to bully my cousin into a decision he wasn’t prepared to make. The women in white looked as pleased as punch while Liza Twaine had somehow snuck her way into the corner and was recording every minute on her phone. It looked like Hazel Rock was going to make the ten o’clock news.