Bones To Pick

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Bones To Pick Page 23

by Carolyn Haines


  “Not if he wants a good case against Virgie.”

  Tinkie leaned back in her chair. “We may be here a while, so you might as well get some sleep. What time is it, anyway?”

  I checked my watch to discover it was after ten. My life was slipping away, minute by minute, and I needed to check on Sweetie. I didn’t believe Virgie had killed her—drugged her, yes. But not killed her. Sweetie loved food, so she would have eaten fruitcake laced with tranquilizer without batting an eye. The dose Virgie gave me had knocked me flat, and I outweighed Sweetie by at least sixty pounds. She could be out for hours.

  “I know you’re worried about Sweetie,” Tinkie said. “I wish there was some way we could get out of here and check on her.”

  “Me, too.” But I’d been all over the room. The windows didn’t open. They were huge slabs of glass fitted into the walls. The outside door had been locked by someone standing on the steps. The room was, for all practical purposes, sealed like a tomb.

  “Maybe that wasn’t Coleman at the door.” Tinkie tucked her feet up under her. “It was probably some school business or something. No one has come to help us, and we’re going to die here. Even if Coleman has to go through another sheriff’s department, it shouldn’t have taken him this long.”

  Her doom and gloom were interrupted by a sound outside the door. Footsteps approached down the hallway.

  “Listen.” I held up a hand. “Let’s pretend to be asleep.”

  We draped ourselves appropriately over our chairs and played possum as the door unlocked and Virgie stepped into the room.

  “Your rescue team has come and gone,” she said. “Coleman Peters and John Adams, the Coahoma County sheriff, just left. They never even mentioned your name, Sarah Booth. Only Tinkie’s. I threw them a false lead, and they’re off to New Orleans, baying like green hounds.”

  “Virgie, they saw my car.”

  “Really? Where did they see it?”

  “Parked near the road, in your driveway.”

  “Funny, they didn’t say anything at all about your car, Sarah Booth.”

  My worry ratio tripled. “They had to see it.”

  “Unless someone moved it.”

  “But I have the key.” I reached into my pocket only to find emptiness.

  “While you were taking your little snooze, I borrowed your key and moved the car. Or should I say hid the car.”

  I hadn’t realized how much I was counting on Coleman seeing my car until she took that hope away from me. For all Coleman knew, I’d fallen off the edge of the world. And if they concentrated their efforts on finding Tinkie in New Orleans, Virgie would have time to kill us and chop us into flushable bits.

  “You look a little defeated, Sarah Booth.”

  “Not at all,” I lied.

  “I never intended to hurt either of you.” She stood in the doorway as she talked, the Taser in her hand. “I want you to know that. Since you weren’t my girls, I had no obligation to make you toe the line. I only meant to stop you.”

  “And it was the notes to us that finally made us see what was happening. Had you not threatened us, we wouldn’t have figured it out,” Tinkie said.

  “Ironic, isn’t it?”

  Virgie could afford to be intellectual about it all since she was on the non-shocking end of the Taser.

  “I’m not going to ask you for understanding—”

  “But I do understand.” Tinkie rose slowly to her feet. “I see it clearly. You’ve devoted your entire life to shaping these young women into remarkable creations. You gave them an education, social graces, strategies, introductions, and a sense of social propriety. You gave them all the best of you.”

  I almost applauded. Tinkie deserved an Oscar—a real one and a gold one. I held my breath to see if Virgie had bought the performance.

  “You do understand.”

  In the moonlight coming in through the many glass windows, I could see that Virgie had relaxed her stance a tiny bit. Tinkie’s understanding was soothing her.

  “We both do, Virgie. Maybe me a little more than Sarah Booth, who has always traveled her own path. But as a wife, the partner of a man whose business depends on propriety, I do understand. There are values that are reflected in conduct and grace. There is also the fact that good manners improve life for everyone.”

  Virgie held out her empty hand, palm up. “Imagine a world without manners. What you’d have is rudeness and chaos. I’ve seen it all falling apart. With the breakdown of our communities has come the total disruption of our families. We’re a society of anonymous commuters.”

  Even I had to agree with some of what she was saying, but I wasn’t going to open my mouth. Tinkie was doing a brilliant job and needed no help from me.

  “Well put,” Tinkie said.

  “I worked so hard on these girls. I put everything into helping them. And when they graduated, they went out into the world as representations for my school. Their bright lights reflected back on me. They were the validation of all my hard work.”

  Tinkie stepped a little closer. “And when their conduct was reprehensible, what reflected back on you was unacceptable.”

  Virgie nodded. “I tried with the notes to warn them back into line.”

  “You started with the notes even when they were at the school, didn’t you?” Tinkie asked.

  “Yes. For the most part, it was effective. Every few years I’d have to take it a step further, but usually it required only the destruction of some personal property or a note on a blackboard embarrassing the offender. That’s the job of society, to hold a person to standards.”

  “But who sets those standards?” I asked.

  “When I first opened the school, it was easier because there were community standards. For the past twenty years, I’ve been spitting into the wind. Young women won’t abide by standards when they receive no credit for them, and no censure for breaking them. Unless there’s a consequence.”

  I had a moment of concern for myself. Virgie made sense in some weird kind of way.

  “That’s when I had to up the ante,” she said.

  And I realized again how completely insane she was. It was one thing to rue the loss of manners and grace in society and quite another to kill people who violated your individual rules of conduct.

  “Murder is a pretty high ante.” I took a step away from Tinkie. If Virgie was coming after us with the Taser, the farther apart we were, the better it would be.

  “There was no other punishment. There is no public humiliation, no shame. No shunning or exclusion. People rob, steal, extort, lie, fornicate, produce illegitimate children, fail to pay child support, and no one would ever think to exclude them from a club or group.” She shook her head. “What’s left other than murder?”

  “Maybe it isn’t up to you to stop them.” I said it in the gentlest way possible, but the effect was impressive.

  Virgie seemed to swell with anger. “That’s the problem. No one wants to assume the responsibility. So I did. I said I would hold people accountable, but only those people who I knew had been taught better.”

  “Then Tinkie and I are off the hook.”

  I should have kept my mouth shut. Maybe a few months at Virgie’s school would have done me good. She looked at me with such utter contempt that I felt it.

  “Your mouth, Sarah Booth, is going to be the death of you.”

  With that, she slammed the door shut. Tinkie and I were prisoners once again, with an enraged and insane warden.

  Dawn broke over the grounds of the Carrington School for Well-Bred Ladies, and I shook Tinkie awake.

  “There’s someone under the trees,” I said.

  She sat up, rubbed her eyes, ran her fingers through her completely unmussed hair, and examined the lawn shaded by huge oaks. “There!” She pointed to the place where I’d seen movement.

  “Can you tell who it is?” Perhaps it was time to put vanity aside and get some contacts. Then again, if I were dead, I wouldn’t have to worry about vis
ion choices.

  “I can’t be sure, but it looks like ... Humphrey.”

  “Humphrey Tatum?” That was impossible. Why would Humphrey be here at the school?

  “Yep, that’s who it is.”

  “Can you tell what he’s doing?” I squinted and saw the blurry image of a man moving among the trees. The sun was behind us, so we had pretty good light.

  “Looks like he’s walking around, taking in the air, as some would say.”

  “Great. Are you sure he doesn’t have one of the students out there with him?”

  Tinkie laughed. “Humphrey is too smart to sample jail bait. I think he prefers a more experienced partner.”

  “I think he prefers something breathing.”

  Her laughter was louder. “You’re too hard on him, Sarah Booth.” She leaned closer. “You’d better be careful, or you’ll end up being the Virgie Carrington of sexual mores.”

  That was a cut to the bone, and I grabbed my chest and fell over my chair. “You’ve wounded me mortally.”

  “Better me than Virgie.” She sighed. “What are we going to do?”

  I’d been thinking about it off and on all night. “I’m not certain. If she was going to kill us, wouldn’t she have already done so?”

  “Maybe she thinks she can use us for bartering.”

  “She may think that, but we know it won’t work.” I had a thought. “Maybe we can make her think it’ll work.”

  Tinkie’s eyebrows lifted. “We’d better do something, or I’m going to starve to death. My stomach sounds like a roller rink.”

  She was right. I was hungry, too. Virgie had made no effort to feed us anything since the fruitcake. “We have to be careful, or she’ll lace the food with something.”

  Tinkie sighed. “Then our only recourse is to escape.”

  I nodded for her to look out the window. Humphrey was sauntering toward us like a man without a care. He came up to the window and waved, ignoring our pantomimed gestures of captivity.

  Though we pounded on the glass and screamed his name, he didn’t pause. He kept walking right beside us, hands in his pockets and chin in the air as he apparently whistled a merry tune.

  “You’re right, Sarah Booth. The man is a complete idiot.” Tinkie sat down in a huff, examining her fingers. “I broke two of my nails, and he didn’t even try to comprehend what we were trying to tell him.”

  “What’s he doing here?” The answer to that question could be either good news or very bad. It might also explain why we were still alive. Virgie might be waiting for the arrival of her partner in crime, if that was what Humphrey was.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Tinkie put her finger in her mouth and attempted to chew her nail smooth.

  “Nothing.” There was no point in making her feel dread, too. “I wish we could hear what was happening.”

  She stood up and paced to the window. “What kind of glass is this, anyway?”

  “Expensive.”

  She picked up one of the wicker tables and smashed it into the glass. The table fell apart in her hands, but the glass was untouched. “I want out!” She attacked it with her fists. “Let me out of here before I go insane.”

  I grasped her fists and tried to hold on to them. Tinkie was surprisingly strong. “Hey, let it go. This won’t help anything, and you’ll break another nail.”

  She struggled, but with half the will. At last, she stopped, and I held her tight against me as she cried. “I want to go home,” she said.

  I had wondered what her feelings were about Oscar, but I hadn’t asked. “Home to Oscar?”

  She nodded. “I thought I hated him. Maybe I did, but it was only a passing emotion. The love is deeper and stronger.”

  “I know.” I patted her shoulder as I held her. Tinkie was far stronger than I and also more fragile because she dared to risk everything. “Click your heels together three times, and say the magic words.”

  Tinkie closed her eyes and clicked her heels three times. “I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home.”

  I was so busy watching Tinkie, at first I didn’t see the door of our prison slowly creak open.

  24

  “Ladies!” Humphrey Tatum stepped through the doorway with a million-watt smile. “What a predicament you find yourselves in.”

  I’d never known what to make of Humphrey, but now I did. He didn’t have whiskers and a tail, but he was a rat, nonetheless. He was in cahoots with Virgie. He’d hired us only so that he could keep tabs on what we were doing. Tinkie and I exchanged angry glares.

  “Humphrey Tatum, you are a low-life scoundrel.” Tinkie put her hands on her trim hips and walked right up to his face. “You are lower than the underbelly of a snake. You are viler than castor oil. You are ...” Polite words failed her, and she simply slapped the stew out of him.

  Humphrey stepped back and rubbed his cheek. “I hope Sarah Booth isn’t as passionate in her anger.”

  My thought was to kick him in the tender place, but I restrained myself. We had to think, not react. “How deep are you in this?” I asked.

  He did something strange with his eyebrows, like a rabbit eating. “Up to my ears. Virgie and I are partners.”

  He kept his back to the doorway and his face to me. His face twitched again. Something was wrong with him. Maybe he’d run out of his medication.

  “What are you going to do with us?” Tinkie demanded.

  “I don’t know.”

  Great, the man with all the sexual plans had no idea what to do with his hostages. “Why did you do it, Humphrey?”

  A sad look touched his face. “We were losing everything at Tatum Corner. Quentin, and her legitimate marriage to me, was our last hope. Al threw a monkey wrench into those plans.”

  “Your sister is going to prison. The woman she loved is dead.” I wanted to slap him cockeyed.

  He shrugged nonchalantly. “I have to admit, I wasn’t in on the plan to kill Quentin, but once the deed was done, I saw a golden opportunity with Virgie’s help. We’d say Quentin died before midnight, and then I’d bump off old Rutherford. Umbria would be free to marry me, and we could divide the spoils.”

  “Umbria’s in this, too?” I wasn’t shocked; I was disappointed with myself. I’d dismissed Umbria far too quickly. I’d underestimated her intelligence and deviousness; I’d cast too small a net.

  “With Allison facing a prison term, what will happen?” I kept my voice level, like a curious stranger.

  “If the will stands—there is some thought that if Allison is convicted of Quentin’s murder, then Quentin’s will can be invalidated—but if the will stands, Allison will have to appoint someone to manage her money while she’s in prison. That will be me, the noble brother who tried to save her.”

  Tinkie moved to stand beside me, her face pale. “What about the other murders? Were you involved in those, too?”

  “I’m a Johnny-come-lately on those. I had nothing to do with them.” His eyebrows shifted up and down dramatically. “Virgie is a genius, isn’t she?”

  “What is wrong with you?” I snapped. “Take your antipsychotic meds, and stop twitching!”

  He chuckled, but there was a brittle sound to it. “Such a card, Sarah Booth. If only you’d married me, then you’d be free right now.”

  “Right, one prison for another.”

  Tinkie poked me in the ribs. “He’s not talking about marriage because he desires you. A wife doesn’t have to testify against her husband.”

  Unbelievable, but my ego took a painful pinch. “So that’s what all the gifts were about? You didn’t want me. You wanted to muzzle me!”

  “I thought something leather would be the quickest way to your heart.”

  “Tell us what you want, and then get out.” I found it bitter that I’d ever been flattered by the attentions of such a shallow man, but the facts were staring me in the face. Humphrey was the worst kind of cad.

  “Give up on Coleman and say you’ll marry me, Sarah Booth. I’ll talk
to Virgie about Tinkie. I’ll try to work it out so that both of you live.”

  “Coleman is coming.” My jaw jutted out of its own accord.

  “I personally gave Coleman the number of a room booked in Tinkie’s name at Audubon Place. Number 945. I told him you’d discovered it and left for New Orleans about ten last night. Of course, I made the reservation, but he doesn’t know that.”

  I sat down, my legs suddenly rubbery. Humphrey had too many specific details. It wasn’t just a bluff. My hopes had been staked on Coleman and a rescue. Now we were lost. There was nothing we could offer to entice Virgie to let us go. Eventually, Coleman would arrest her for the murders she’d committed, but she was right. She could only be executed once, no matter how many people she killed. Humphrey was in the same boat: he could kill the two of us at no extra penalty.

  “We’re stuck here.” Tinkie plopped down on the sofa. She’d obviously come to the same dark corner as I had.

  Humphrey cocked his head. “Since you’ve admitted defeat, Sarah Booth, care for a little fun?” He reached into the pocket of his sports jacket and drew out black lace panties and a bra. “We could play Victoria’s Secret model interview.”

  I jumped to my feet. “You are despicable.”

  “No, Sarah Booth, I’m merely a pragmatist and a man doing his best to protect his interests.”

  “Go away.” I sank back into my chair. From beneath the weight of my defeat, I tossed one parting shot. “I can’t believe Virgie, Miss High-and-Mighty-Let’s-Murder-Folks-Who-Break-My-Rules, would actually hook up with a pervert.”

  “I guess Virgie takes the broader view of bedroom activities,” Humphrey said, not the least disturbed by my ire. “Who the heck knows what she may be into.” He held up a hand to stop our comments. “Virgie has said that I can have your hound, Sarah Booth. I just want you to know that she’ll be well taken care of. Should you hear a commotion, don’t fret. The dog is mighty loyal to you, and I had to tie her up, but I’ll make sure she’s safe when the time arrives.” He tossed the underwear onto the sofa.

  His laughter remained behind in the room as he closed and locked the door.

  “We’re in big trouble.” Tinkie sat across from me. “I hope you have a plan, Sarah Booth, because I’m all out of ideas.”

 

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