Bones To Pick

by Carolyn Haines

  I’d played here as a young child, drawing lines in the dirt to outline my “house,” and building roads and dirt towns to gallop my plastic horses over and through. Sometimes, I’d leave my toys, and when I came back the next day, they would be moved, as if some other child had played with them.

  “This is the fairy spot.” I smiled as I said the words.

  “I thought you might remember,” Jitty said.

  “I loved it when Mama brought me here. In the cool shade.”

  “This was one of her favorite places on the entire plantation. She found a lot of comfort here.”

  “She’d let me play while she sat on that tree limb.” I pointed, and for a moment I almost saw her, dark hair tied back in a scarf, red lips smiling when I told her about the fairies. She never felt the need to refute my stories, had never tried to make me toe the line of acceptable beliefs. She’d always encouraged me to play and dream. My smile matched the ghost of hers.

  “It’s a very special place,” Jitty said. “There’s not a lot of difference between fairies and ghosts.”

  “Your point is well-taken.” I took a seat in the crook of a swooping limb. “Why did you bring me out here?”

  “Your mama was a remarkable woman.”

  “She was, but we didn’t have to come out here to agree on that.” Jitty normally preferred to have our discussions in the comfort of the house.

  “She’s never left you, Sarah Booth.”

  The lump in my throat was instant. “Oh, but she did. She and Daddy both.” I’d been twelve when a car accident had claimed their lives.

  Jitty shook her head, beautiful pearl earrings dancing in the moonlight. “No, she’s here with you now. Both of your parents are here.”

  The tears I’d bottled up for so long began to fall. “I want them to be alive.” And then I realized the genius of Jitty’s walk. “I want Coleman to live. I can’t bear it if anything happens to him.” I was sobbing outright.

  “Whatever happens with Coleman, you’ll be okay.”

  I was instantly furious. “That’s not good enough. I’m tired of losing everyone I love. I’m tired of death. I’m sick of the pain. Coleman would be in his office, tending to business, if he hadn’t tried to save me.”

  Jitty sighed. “Loving someone means allowing him to be who he is, Sarah Booth. Coleman did what he wanted to do. It’s not your place to judge him or yourself.”

  “Coleman can be whoever he wants, as long as he’s alive.” I would give him up. I would let him go, if only he wouldn’t die.

  There was sadness in her voice. “Death is only an extreme form of change.”

  “Call it by any name you wish, but it is an ending, a conclusion to being here with me. My parents are gone. Coleman is seriously wounded. He could die, and then he’ll be gone from me.”

  Jitty walked slowly through the clearing, turned, and came back to me. “He’s going to be okay.”

  There was something in the way she said it that chilled me. “Okay? What does that mean?”

  “He’ll survive the gunshot.”

  “Survive?” Jitty was playing coy at a game I didn’t understand.

  “He’ll recover from the wound.”

  I felt the pressure of additional tears. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded.

  “Thank goodness.” Relief swept over me like a gentle wind. “Thank goodness.”

  “The bullet didn’t strike you, Sarah Booth, but you were wounded nonetheless. Keep that in mind. You have to heal as much as Coleman does.”

  “I’ll be fine as long as he’s okay.”

  Jitty only stared at me a long moment and shook her head. “Coleman will not die.”

  We started back toward the lights of Dahlia House, walking side by side. I could tell by the furrow in her brow that she was worried. “I’m okay,” I assured her.

  We made it to the barn in silence. “You are the hard-headedest woman I’ve ever met,” she said at last.

  “You promise Coleman will be okay?”

  She nodded. “Quit worrying about him. There are other things you should turn your attention to. I’ve learned some things at court.”

  “I’ll bet. What? Excess is best?”

  Her smile was sad. “Hardheaded and sarcastic to the end, aren’t you?” Her stare became a challenge. “Change is inevitable, Sarah Booth. The art of living is not merely to accept change, but to embrace it. The revolution is coming.”

  I thought about the little I knew of the French Revolution. It had been a bloody coup fueled by the hunger of the people and the excess of the court. The common man had been aroused to overthrow the monarchy. A lot of people had died. “Don’t linger at the ball too long, Cinderella. You’ll come home with your head in a basket.”

  She flickered dimly. “Remember, change is inevitable. It’s part of living. Even royalty must bend to change.” And then she was gone.

  I awoke to the pounding of tiny fists against the front door—and kicking. Tinkie was impatient. Or I’d been deeply asleep. I’d taken one of Dr. Martin’s little magic sleeping pills, and I’d turned into a log.

  “I’m coming!” I grabbed a quilt off the bed and wrapped it around me as I ran to open the door. Tinkie, dressed in a faux fur–trimmed sweater and leather pants, rolled her eyes as she walked past me.

  “It’s about time, Sarah Booth. I was freezing my butt off waiting for you to get up and open the door. What’s for breakfast?”

  I was so glad to see Tinkie, safe and sound and hungry, that I didn’t bother to point out that I’d been in a drug-induced coma because I was worried about Coleman. “How about egg sandwiches?” The pickings in my refrigerator were pretty slim since I hadn’t been to the store in two weeks.

  “Sounds great. There’s probably some cheese tucked away in the fridge somewhere, too.” She preceded me into the kitchen and started to put on a pot of coffee. I sat at the table.

  “I haven’t heard a word from Coleman.” With Jitty’s assurances and Dr. Martin’s magic pills, I’d fallen into such a deep sleep that I’d forgotten to worry.

  Tinkie turned and frowned. “That’s strange. They called me about an hour ago and said they’d called you first.”

  “How is Coleman?” To heck with the technicalities.

  “Up and hungry. He’s going to be just fine. In fact, if you’ll put some clothes on while I fix breakfast, we’ll drive over to visit him.”

  “Yes!” I danced around the kitchen, my quilt cape flapping behind me. Tinkie tried to look disturbed, but then she smiled.

  “This is going to be a wonderful Christmas, Sarah Booth. Just you wait and see.”

  I didn’t have a single doubt. Coleman was going to be fine. Tinkie and Oscar were back on track. Sweetie Pie was circling the table, hoping for a scrap of something to fall her way. Not that her bowl was empty, but human food was always preferable.

  “Shall we call Cece?” Tinkie asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Then why don’t we just go to Millie’s for breakfast, and we can drive to Clarksdale from there.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Have some coffee, and I’ll be changed in a jiffy.” Well, not exactly a jiffy. I planned to apply a little make-up, at least. If Coleman was recovering, I didn’t want to frighten him back into unconsciousness.

  I sprinted up the stairs, turned on the shower, and dragged my favorite black jeans and a jade sweater out of the closet. In a moment I was soaping and scrubbing. I finished in record time, tied my hair back with a scarf that matched my sweater, and bounded down the stairs to meet Tinkie at the door.

  “Should I call Coleman?” I couldn’t wait to talk to him.

  “I think a visit would be better. He can just open his eyes and see you staring down at him, all aquiver for his recovery. That’ll be his dream come true.”

  I slapped her shoulder lightly as I walked around the Caddy and got in the passenger seat. “Where’s Chablis?”

  “She’s with Oscar.” When she said her hus
band’s name, her smile softened.

  “Things okay in that department?” Her expression told me enough, but I wanted to hear her say it.

  “Things are good. We had a long talk last night, and we resolved some issues that had been between us a long time.”

  “Oscar is somebody.” Never in my wildest dreams had I thought that one day I’d be defending Oscar Richmond, wealthy banker. But there was more to Oscar than met the eye. The depth of his love for Tinkie had touched me.

  Tinkie spun down the driveway and turned toward Millie’s. She glanced at me. “I have something to tell you.”

  The way she said it made my heart flutter. “What?”

  “While you were in recovery with Coleman, I scheduled an appointment for a breast biopsy with Dr. Martin. He’s going to do it Wednesday.”

  “Thank you, Tinkie.” I reached across the seat and squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”

  “I’m perfectly healthy, but I owe it to Oscar and you and my friends to put your minds at ease.”

  “You don’t owe it to us, but I’m glad you’re doing it.” I felt as if I’d been released by some heavy weight.

  “I know I’m perfectly fine, so there’s no reason not to do this.”

  I didn’t care how she’d rationalized it as long as she took care of it. “I’ll drive you over.”

  “Oscar’s going to do it.”

  I nodded. “Perfect. Once that’s taken care of and we get Coleman home, life will settle back into a normal pattern.”

  She laughed. “You are an optimist, aren’t you? The only normal pattern around you is chaos and lots of danger.”

  Although I didn’t react, her words cut me to the quick. What she said was true. In the past year, I’d found myself in several life-threatening situations, and wherever I went, my friends tended to follow.

  “Did I say something wrong?” She pulled into the parking lot at Millie’s and stopped the car.

  I shook my head. “I have a lot to think about.”

  “About Coleman getting shot?”

  I nodded. “I rushed out to Virgie’s to save you because I wanted to show you I could come to the rescue. It was my fault Coleman got shot.”

  Her laughter was full and merry. “You are such an egotist, Sarah Booth.”

  In the space of twelve hours, I’d been called hardheaded by Jitty and now an egotist by Tinkie. What was this, Kick Sarah Booth Day? “Why would you say that?” I asked.

  “Because it’s true. You think everything that happened is because of you. Coleman was there to save me, too. I’m not chopped liver, you know.”

  It was true. Had I not even been involved, Coleman would have risked himself to save Tinkie. Even though she’d insulted me, I felt marginally better. “But you wouldn’t have been held hostage were you not working with me.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. I might have started a PI agency on my own. Or I might have insulted Virgie in some other way. But that’s not even the point, Sarah Booth. Sometimes you are so dense!”

  Add dense to the list of insults. “What is the point?”

  “You are a vital part of my life. And Coleman’s. But you aren’t the sun that we revolve around.” She circled her finger around her head. “It isn’t all about you. How can it be that you made me see that about my breast lump, and Oscar see it about his concern for me, but you can’t see it yourself!”

  “But if I’m responsible—”

  “Good lord!” She sucked in her lip and let it pop out in a gesture that made men so weak-kneed they had to sit down. “If I was nominated for a medal for solving this crime, you’d never consider thinking that you were somehow responsible. You don’t try to assume credit for my actions, so for goodness’ sakes, don’t try to assume the blame.”

  Tinkie had a way of making things clear to me. “You’re right.”

  “The same is true for Coleman. He chose to be there. He chose to provoke Virgie to give Humphrey a chance to escape. He made a choice and acted on it. You’re simply not involved.”

  “Okay.” I felt a good bit better. In fact, my ego had shriveled, and my appetite had returned. I was starving. “Let’s eat and then go see Coleman.”

  “At last, you say something with merit.” She got out of the car and led the way to a back table at Millie’s, where Cece was already waiting for us.

  “Dahlings,” Cece said, waving her coffee cup. “Congratulations! I’ve been fielding calls all morning long from newspapers across the nation. Everyone wants an interview with the two daring private eyes who nabbed a serial killer.”

  Millie brought two steaming mugs of coffee and gave both me and Tinkie a hug. “Good work, ladies. The Delta is a safer place now that that homicidal maniac is behind bars.”

  “Thanks,” Tinkie and I said in unison as we sat down.

  “I got a statement from Coleman’s doctor this morning,” Cece continued. “He’s going to make a full recovery. No permanent damage at all.”

  My grin went from ear to ear. “That’s wonderful. When can he come home?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “That’s even better.” I had a sudden vision of him installed in my bed at Dahlia House while I made chicken soup and kept him warm.

  “We’re going to visit him when we finish here,” Tinkie said.

  “So, tell me everything.” Cece brought a pad out of her purse. “True crime is not generally the province of the society pages, but I’m going to angle the story at two female private investigators.” She frowned at me. “Sarah Booth, if you’d just upgrade your wardrobe a bit, I could make this a fashion article.”

  “Not a chance. I’m happy being an unfashionable investigator.”

  Millie took our orders, and we laughed our way through breakfast. It was wonderful to be with my girlfriends, to be safe, to know that Tinkie was taking steps to keep herself healthy. To know that Coleman was recuperating.

  The front door of the café opened, and Humphrey walked in. Tinkie waved him over. “We never got a chance to thank you,” she said as he took a chair between us. “You saved our lives.”

  “It was nothing.” His face flushed only a little. “I knew I had to get you out of the house somehow. Virgie had completely flipped. She was irrational.”

  “She almost killed you.” I handed him the cup of coffee Millie brought. “You’re quick on your feet.”

  “I’m even better in a horizontal position.” He looked right at me. “You’ve underestimated me since you’ve known me. I wish you’d give me a chance.”

  His words caught me off guard. I hadn’t expected him to be serious, especially not about a relationship with me. “Humphrey, my heart is taken.”

  Sadness touched the corners of his mouth. “I know. You’re in love with the sheriff.”

  There wasn’t any point in denying it. “It’s complicated.”

  “Indeed, it is. Coleman Peters is married.”

  “I know.”

  “His wife is a nut case,” Millie said. “Certifiable. He’s been tied to her by obligation, but that can’t go on forever. Once she has the baby, Coleman can file for custody of the child and then divorce Connie.”

  Humphrey sipped his coffee. “It sounds as if you’ve got it all neatly planned.”

  Though he was trying to hide it, I sensed disappointment in Humphrey’s tone. I reached across the table and took his hand. “Nothing is planned. But I do love Coleman. I love him enough to let him decide what he should do.”

  Humphrey finished his coffee and stood. “Ladies, I want to thank you all for your help. My sister—”

  “Where is Allison?” I interrupted. In all of the hullabaloo, I hadn’t even questioned where she’d gone once she was released from jail.

  “She’s at The Gardens.” He held up a hand. “Sarah Booth, your impetuous nature might be fun in bed, but it’s annoying when I’m trying to tell you something.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Speak.”

  “Allison wants to invite all of you to a small gathering tonigh
t at seven at The Gardens. Please say you’ll come.”

  “We wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Cece spoke for all of us. “Would an interview with Allison be out of the question?”

  “I could arrange it,” Humphrey said, crooking his arm for Cece. “Let me escort you.” He shot a look at me. “I’ll see you tonight, Sarah Booth. Remember, there’s still time to change your mind.”

  27

  Whether she needed to see the doctor or not, Tinkie stopped off by Dr. Martin’s office for a “chat” while I walked down the long corridor to Coleman’s room alone. Tinkie was the kind of friend who would make up an excuse to give me a few private moments with the man I loved—even though I was a coward and preferred her to be with me.

  On the drive over, I’d thought about some of the last words I’d had with Coleman. He’d wanted to talk to me about something. Something important. Something that most likely involved our future, either separately or together.

  With each step, I drew closer to my fate. It wasn’t a comforting feeling. I was almost at Coleman’s room, and I slowed. My courage was failing me.

  I heard the sound of padded shoes behind me, and I turned to find a nurse wearing a surgical mask, hurrying toward me, a strange look in her eyes. I felt a sick sensation. “Is Coleman okay?” I asked.

  “You bitch!”

  I never saw the hand until it smacked into my face. My vision blurred.

  “I’m going to show you what happens to a husband stealer!”

  I was too busy ducking to get a good look at her face, but I had no doubt who it was. Connie Peters had finally put in an appearance, and she was pissed.

  “I’m going to make you sorry you ever thought about stealing my husband. I’m going—” Her diatribe was interrupted by a grunt as she took another swing at my head.

  “Hold on, Connie!” I managed as I dropped to the floor, rolled, and narrowly avoided a kick she launched at my midsection.

  “You destroyed my marriage. You tantalized my husband. You bitch!”

  Several nurses had gathered to watch, but no one lifted a finger to try and stop the mayhem. “This woman is psychotic. Do you think you might grab her?” I asked a stout-looking orderly. He only shook his head.