Perilous Poetry

by Kym Roberts

  As the last of the Mystery Moms left the shop, with Liza Twaine pulling up the rear, Violet hugged her son. “When I saw those men circling around you, the fear of God rose inside me.”

  “Nothing was going to happen to me, Mama. It wasn’t like that.”

  She pulled back and grabbed him by the shoulders, her arms fully extended. “It sure looked like that, and when those Mystery Moms came in, this bookstore looked darn right spooky.”

  “They’re a bunch of old men, Mama. I think Bobby Ray and I could’ve taken them with our hands tied behind our backs.”

  “Cade Calloway didn’t look like easy pickin’s.”

  “He wasn’t complaining. He agreed with them, but he didn’t like the way they handled it. He came to make sure his dad didn’t get heated. Now I want the truth from you. Where in the world did you and Charli take off to?”

  “What in the name of Sam Hill has got you all riled up and wanting to know my every move? It’s not like you.”

  Jamal hesitated. Then he lied through his teeth. “I’m not used to hearing about violence. We decided to test market this in Hazel Rock because it was a smaller community with less traffic and we could involve the entire community. But now everyone is involved in a couple murder investigations. That’s not exactly what I was looking for.”

  “It’s a hiccup in the road.”

  “Two murders are not hiccups, Mom.”

  “I’m not saying they are, but I am saying that every new business has trials it has to overcome. This is something you must, and will, overcome. You heard Penelope Calloway. This is a good app, baby.”

  “If I know for certain that the Book Seekers app is a danger to the community, I’ll be the first to let you know,” Mateo added. There was a silent communication between him and Jamal. It was obvious to me that Mateo wanted Jamal to know he had not uncovered anything linking his mystery donor to the murders. But it also meant that he was no closer to catching a killer than he had been yesterday.

  Jamal stepped away from his mom. “Thanks, Sheriff. I appreciate it.”

  Once again Mateo said good night and left the Barn. Scarlet and Joellen were the only ones left.

  “Will you be ready around nine thirty tomorrow?” Scarlet asked.

  “For what?”

  “You know, for the thing we talked about.” Scarlet’s eyes rounded as she tried to communicate telepathically.

  My brain, however, was not accepting messages hidden in layers of secrecy. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Scarlet.”

  Joellen interrupted, “The funeral for the Eduardo Rodriguez. It starts at ten o’clock and the two of you were going to go see if you could learn anything about who the possible killer could be.”

  My aunt looked at me. “Heavens to Pete. Now you two think you’re Mystery Moms. Are you going to wear a superhero cape, a Sherlock Holmes hat and carry a pipe, or were you going to dress like an undertaker and pretend you’re there to put the casket in the ground?”

  “We’re going to go to the funeral. That’s it. Pay our respects to a dead man and leave,” I said.

  “That’s not wha—”

  Scarlet elbowed her sister in the gut.

  “Ouch. What was that for?”

  “We’re just going to pay our respects,” Scarlet repeated. “Now if you’ll excuse my little sister and I, we’ve got some work to do before tomorrow.” Scarlet began pushing Joellen toward the front door as her little sister looked over her shoulder to my cousin.

  There were two things I noticed in that instant. One: Joellen was completely distracted by my cousin Jamal. And two: Jamal couldn’t take his eyes off Scarlet’s little sister. How was it that love could bloom everywhere in this town, yet I couldn’t get a date to save my life?

  Chapter Twenty

  Scarlet picked me up the next morning at nine thirty sharp. I had on my little black dress with a pair of flats instead of my usual combat boots. The weather was dreary once again; sheets of rain were coming down in droves. I ran for the car and stepped in a mud puddle that covered my shoe, but didn’t let it slow me down. I was more worried about getting my hair wet than my shoes. Scarlet opened the one door on her BMW Isetta and got wet as I climbed in. “We should’ve taken my daddy’s truck,” I said.

  “That would’ve been hard to do with a broken axle.”

  I’d forgotten the truck was gone. Dean MacAlister had it at his shop, but there wasn’t much hope of it being resurrected. On the radio, the news was talking about two local murders in the small town of Hazel Rock. I cringed.

  “Hazel Rock seems to be getting a bad name,” I said.

  “Not as bad as Cut and Shoot, Texas.”

  It was true. No matter how quiet that town was, it could not live down a name like Cut and Shoot. But I questioned whether they had as high a crime rate as we seemed to have lately. Hopefully we were on a hundred-year spike in the crime rate, kind of like when Prohibition went into effect in the town and rioters knocked down the city water tower, flooding the entire town and killing three people. The Barn had a paint line drawn near the front doors marking the foot-high water that had flooded the old stable. After that, the stable had been closed. Probably a good thing considering most people who frequented downtown Hazel Rock in the early thirties didn’t ride a horse to work anymore. The corral on the side of the bar had been torn down at that time and the lot sold to build a store. The stable was turned into the feed and seed that my parents purchased when I was a kid.

  “I didn’t even look to see where the funeral was. Is it in Oak Grove?”

  “Yes, it’s at the Oakwood’s Funeral Home.” Scarlet zipped down Main Street heading for the freeway. I could picture the car spinning out of control and ending up in the ditch, only then to be washed down to the Brazos River. The little car would bob up and down over the waves, bouncing off the banks and finally roll with us inside, unable to get the one door open. I grabbed the handle and held on.

  “I’m not that bad a driver,” Scarlet declared.

  “I didn’t say a word.”

  “You’re hanging on like we’re going to be washed down to the river.”

  I looked at her. “How did you know what I was thinking?”

  “Princess.” She was imitating Cade’s drawl. “I don’t know how many times we’ve told you that you’re an open book. You looked ahead at the road. You looked back. You looked to the side, and then you leaned forward and looked past me toward the river. How could I not know what you were thinking?”

  “Fine. What am I thinking now?”

  “You’re thinking I’m one smart—”

  “Best friend. I think it’s because you know me, not because I’m an open book.”

  “What about Cade?”

  “That man couldn’t read the side of a barn if it hit him in the face.”

  Scarlet laughed. “And Mateo?”

  “He’s a different story. He seems to know what I’m going to do even before I do.”

  “I rest my case.”

  I rolled my eyes and looked out the window. Sheets of rain fell as the side streets turned to streams and yards turned into ponds.

  “Is it supposed to continue raining?” I asked.

  “I heard it’s going to rain through the weekend and that flooding will be an issue.”

  “Great. Our signing is Tuesday. The last thing we need is for flooding to cancel it.”

  “I think the last thing the whole town needs is flooding.”

  “I know that sounded terrible. It’s just I’m worried about my cousin, my aunt, my dad, and the Barn. I’m wondering if I should have never gone along with Jamal’s app to begin with.”

  “It was a good decision. Penelope was right. The woman knows how to deliver a PSA and I think it was smart of him to use her for his commercial.”

  “What commercial?”
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br />   Scarlet looked away from the road and swerved toward a puddle I swore could swallow the car whole.

  “Scarlet, watch the road!”

  The front passenger tires hit the puddle and pulled the car into the deep water. Scarlet yanked hard on the steering wheel and got us back toward the middle of the road.

  “O.M.W. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

  “Me?”

  “You are the most skittish woman I know. Are you sure you’re from Texas?”

  “I’m sure,” I said. “I am also sure that you were a hair’s breadth away from losing control of this car.”

  “Was not.”

  I decided to turn the conversation toward the focus of what we were doing. “Do you know anything about Eduardo?”

  “I know he was an only child and his parents have passed. He lived alone and never married.”

  “That sounds like Delbert Perkins.”

  “It sounds more like you. Delbert had a brother.”

  “But both his parents are gone.”

  “Yet the connection is as similar as the common denominator between me and Delbert.” When I looked at her like she had long horns coming out of the side of her head, Scarlet said, “Delbert and I each have one sibling, and who knows how many other things we had in common. That doesn’t mean I’m next on the killer’s list.”

  I hit her shoulder.

  “Ow.”

  “Don’t even suggest that to the universe. It’s not funny.”

  “O.M.W. I’m am the last one on that man’s list.”

  “How do you know it’s a man?” I asked.

  Scarlet remained quiet as she pondered the question.

  As we pulled up to the funeral home, the heavens opened…with Noah’s flood water.

  “Maybe we should skip it,” I suggested.

  “We’ve come this far, we’re not turning back. Besides, think of Jamal.”

  Fuzz buckets.

  There was no way my hair was going to survive that rain. Scarlet, on the other hand, had a Katherine Hepburn hairdo that looked good, even with her front bangs highlighted. She wore a rain hat and a raincoat straight out of the ‘60s. I had no doubt she would survive anything nature threw at her. My outfit, I wasn’t worried about, not much could happen to my black dress. My hair on the other hand required an umbrella, and with the wind swirling around the car, there was no way my umbrella would survive.

  Scarlet parked the car in the closest spot available, which was in the back forty, and looked toward me with her umbrella in hand. She yanked the front of her rain hat down over the edge of her hair. “Are you ready?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.” I pushed the lever on my umbrella just a smidge; ready cover my head as the door opened. Scarlet did the same.

  “On the count of three. One… Two… Three!”

  I opened the door and the wind caught hold, pulling me out of the car before I was ready to even open my umbrella. I flew like that old TV show my mom used to make me watch, The Flying Nun: arm and legs spread wide, I hung on for dear life as my feet never touched the ground. I only stopped when the door slammed against the hinges and I thankfully landed on my feet. Rain soaked me instantaneously. My hair flopped down in my eyes. My dress stuck to my thighs. Scarlet exited the car gracefully, her umbrella close to her head, half-open, half-closed. She hadn’t seen my attempt at flight, her umbrella had blocked her view as it worked perfectly to protect her head and makeup. Her raincoat covered whatever gorgeous outfit she had on underneath. I got my footing and slammed the car door closed then made a beeline for the front door. I had my umbrella, but it refused to open. I made it to the door before Scarlet, but the difference between our appearances was night and day. I was the ranch hand too stupid to wear a duster when caught out in the middle of the storm. Scarlet was the foreman—organized and prepared for any weather situation.

  She shook out her umbrella and closed it neatly. Mine chose that moment to pop open and smack me in the face.

  “O.M.W. How in Sam Hill did you get that wet?” Scarlet took off her rain jacket and daintily shook it out, underneath she wore a black two-piece suit that had a peplum jacket and a pencil skirt: both perfectly dry and pressed. Even her heels looked like they made it through the rain with no damage whatsoever. Not even a speck of mud splattered the black patent leather stiletto pumps. I looked down at my suede flats. They looked more brown than black.

  “How did you do that?”

  Scarlet untied her rain hat and took it off gently to preserve her hair. “Do what?”

  “Make it through the rain looking like a million dollars, while I look like I’ve been dragged through the mud.”

  “Only your shoes look like they’ve been dragged through the mud. The rest of you looks like you’ve gone for a swim. Hold my jacket. I can at least fix your hair before anyone sees it.”

  Except she was too late. Mateo opened the front door and looked at me from top to bottom. The corner of his mouth quirked. It seemed I was getting pretty good at humoring our sheriff.

  “Just in time, Mateo,” Scarlet said.

  “Are you going to put on a show?” he asked.

  “No, you’re going to wrangle that umbrella Charli’s lost control of and then you’re going to hold my coat and both umbrellas while I do a number on her hair.”

  “Looks to me like somebody already did a number on it.” There was no curve to his lips. Just a statement of facts, but his dry humor didn’t go unnoticed.

  It was ignored.

  Scarlet began running her fingers through my hair, tugging it this way and pulling it that way. But from the crease in her brow, I could tell it still looked like a mess. Then she pulled her antique gray Tanzanite brooch off her lapel. And began pulling my hair back away from my face.

  “You can’t use that. It’ll get ruined.”

  “This brooch has seen more uses than any other item in my wardrobe. It’ll be fine.”

  A few moments later she’d worked her magic and somehow my hair look presentable in a low ponytail with the brooch holding it together. It also added a bit of class to a soggy outfit.

  “Good as new,” said Mateo.

  Scarlet surveyed her work. “It’s going to have to do. We’ve got a case—”

  “That’s what I thought.” Mateo looked at both of us, shaking his head. “Are you with the Mystery Moms?”

  “The Mystery Moms are here?” I asked.

  Mateo nodded. “The Mystery Moms are here in full force. Does that mean you’re not with them?”

  “No, we’re not with them. We came to pay our respects as representatives of the Barn.”

  “Why does the Barn need representatives at Eduardo Rodriguez’s visitation?”

  Scarlet didn’t miss a beat. “The man was an avid reader, and if there’s any connection to the store, Charli wants the public to know they sympathize and are concerned for the welfare of the community. You saw Liza Twaine’s report. She made it sound like the murders were tied to the Book Barn Princess with that report last night with J. C. We’re making sure everyone knows the Barn is doing its best to ensure no one else gets hurt.”

  He gave Scarlet her umbrella and jacket, and as I reached for mine, he said, “This umbrella needs to be put to rest. It will not withstand a Texas storm. Did you buy it up north?”

  “I lived in Denver. Where do you think I bought it?”

  Mateo turned to Scarlet. “Was she this testy the whole way here?”

  “Yes, she’s in a mood. Don’t mess with her.”

  They’d be in the mood to if they were soaked to the bone and look like a drowned poodle.

  On the bright side, Mateo had seen me at every shade of my worst…and he still held out his arm for me to take. Maybe going to a visitation wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  Then again, I was known for speaking to
o soon.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The funeral home was packed. For a man who was reportedly a recluse with no living relatives, I had to wonder where all these people came from. Scarlet was on the same wavelength.

  “Why are all these people here?”

  “The same reason as you two are,” Mateo replied.

  My voice hardened with sarcasm. “And you?”

  “It’s my job, Charli. If it wasn’t my job, I’d be leaving the investigation up to law enforcement while I worked in my cubicle.”

  The childish part of me wanted to mimic him. The adult part of me couldn’t see Mateo ever working in a cubicle. My heart held the real reason why I was at a stranger’s funeral snooping around—I couldn’t sit by and do nothing while my aunt worried about my cousin’s future. Or while my cousin fretted over the potential danger to my aunt’s life. They were the only family I had when I was desperate at seventeen, and now they needed my help. I wasn’t going to let them down.

  Mateo guided me over to a pew, but then I realized he was with me to keep an eye on me. It had nothing to do with something between us, and everything to do with him ensuring I didn’t get in the way of his investigation. In the meantime, the Mystery Moms were scattered across the room. Daisy and Betty were talking to the funeral director, occupying his time. God only knew what they were asking him. The man’s head bounced back and forth from one woman to the next as they riddled him with questions from each side. They were a tag team duo that belonged in an arena.

  Liza was off interviewing Sterling Koch, the owner of the Book Grove, who seemed more upset than anyone else with the passing of Eduardo Rodriguez. Maybe Eduardo did have a friend. That was a possibility I needed to explore. Sugar and Reba Sue looked like they were trying to sneak into the back room. Luckily for me, Mateo saw them at the same time I did and came to the same conclusion.