One of those women who seemed to find Scotty charming was Zora Rappaport. She’s sixty and plump with mousy brown hair cut chin-length, an unflattering look on a face so round. She owns the Feathered Peacock Yoga Salon, though she hasn’t actually practiced yoga since injuring her neck in an accident several years ago.
She shook a finger in Edgar’s face. “That’s the trouble with your generation,” she said in a voice surprisingly husky and deep. “You think that keeping a promise is optional. Destiny accepted the position in this group. She ought to be here.” She tossed an apologetic smile at the big man in leather. “I’m sorry, Moose. You know I think the world of you, but everyone knows you let that wife of yours get away with murder.”
Moose’s lips twitched, but he didn’t look amused. “With all due respect, Miss Zora, that’s not something you need to worry about.”
“It’s not just you she takes advantage of,” Zora said. “You know better than anyone how she treats poor Scotty. All he wants is to get to know her. Make up for lost time.”
“Which is neither here nor there,” Aquanettia interjected before Moose could speak. “We’re not here to discuss anyone’s family issues.”
Moose leaned forward, resting his massive and colorful forearms on the table. “Destiny said she’d be here tonight. That’s all I know. Can’t we wait a few minutes? She probably got caught on the phone or something.”
Felix snorted. He was at least ten years older than Moose and half Moose’s size, which made him either remarkably brave or ridiculously foolish. “I know she’s your wife,” he said. “I know you feel like you have to stick up for her. But think about the rest of us, man. She’s been wasting our time from the very beginning.”
“She said she’d be here,” Moose said again. He didn’t speak loudly, but he didn’t have to. His deep voice carried easily. “You’ve gotta understand my wife. She’s—”
“A flake,” said Lorena Babcock, a short, round woman with short blond hair who works at the market with Felix. “The rules say we can kick her out if she misses four meetings in a year. This is number four.”
Sebastian Walker, the pharmacist at Magnolia Street Drug, jumped into the conversation. “I saw her outside right before the meeting,” he said to Felix, “with that cop who was in the market the other day.”
“Good Lord,” Lorena moaned. “Was she being arrested again?”
Sebastian answered but I couldn’t hear what he said over the new wave of shouting that erupted.
Felix slapped the table and shouted over the others. “She is not here. The reasons don’t matter. I say let’s vote. Right now.”
Two dozen voices rose in response. I tried to measure the reaction, but as far as I could tell, the group was evenly split.
It looked like Ben & Jerry would have to wait for me awhile longer.
Two
Chaos reigned for a few minutes, with people aligning on both sides of the argument and Aquanettia whacking the table repeatedly. “Quiet!” she shouted. “Quiet! You’re all out of order, and you’re going about this all wrong. We shouldn’t be talking about one of our members by name unless we’re in executive session. Stop now. I mean it!”
One by one, the others fell silent and most of them resumed their seats. Only Felix and Lorena remained standing. “Then put us in a whatchamacallit if that’s what it takes,” Felix demanded. “This alliance is only as strong as its weakest member, and I think we all know who that is.”
“We’ll move on with official business if and when you sit down,” Aquanettia said sharply. She looked around the room, ready to kick some small business butt. “The first matter on the agenda is the election, followed by the neighborhood cleanup effort, and so on, as presented in the agenda. We’ll stick to the order as presented. New business comes at the end, and that includes your motion, Felix.”
Lorena snatched up a piece of paper from the table in front of her and cried, “Then I call the question. Is that the right term?” Her round cheeks were pink with excitement. “Whatever I’m supposed to say to get this matter settled, I’m saying it. Let’s vote right now.”
Aquanettia wagged the gavel at her. “There’s nothing to vote on, no question to call. And there won’t be unless Felix makes his motion in the right way and at the right time. Now sit down.” Lorena looked as if she might argue further, but Aquanettia kept right on talking. “We all agreed to follow the rules of order, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do. Is that clear?”
Obviously disappointed, Lorena looked around for backup, but when she saw Felix sitting in his seat, eyes straight ahead and a murderous look on his face, she dropped into her own chair with a grudging sigh. “Fine, but you all know what you need to do when the time comes. No offense, Moose.”
He lifted one beefy hand and treated us all to a sad-looking smile. “None taken,” he said in a tone that made me think he’d been down similar roads because of his wife before.
With a prim smile, Aquanettia sat and folded her hands on the table. “All right then. The matter up for discussion is the upcoming elections. As you know, we do not have a full slate for the executive committee—that’s president, vice president, and secretary-treasurer. The deadline for declaring is midnight tonight. We need someone to step up for the secretary-treasurer spot.”
She paused and glanced around, waiting for one of us to leap up and volunteer. I could feel Edie shifting in her seat next to me, itching to be that person. I shot her a warning look. We’d already discussed the idea of her becoming more involved and we’d agreed that she should wait until she’d had the baby and adjusted to life as a single mother.
I caught Gabriel’s eye and nodded toward Aquanettia, silently urging him to step up. I knew he’d be horrified, and I was right. He shot me a look and mumbled, “Not on your life,” under his breath.
After the silence dragged on for a while, Aquanettia cleared her throat and continued. “Of course, if you want any of the five general seats on the board, you need to put your name forward. We presently have candidates for all five seats, but it would make a better election if members had choices. And remember that only one person from each member business can be on the board at a time.”
She looked around again, waited a breath or two, and then said, “The same holds true for anyone who wants to run for vice president against Felix or for president against me.” By now, it seemed that even she was ready to admit that was unlikely. “Get your names on the ballot by midnight tonight, or you’ll lose your chance.”
To no one’s surprise, nobody jumped at the chance. Silence reigned until, just as Aquanettia opened her mouth to go on, we all heard rapid footsteps climbing the stairs. Every head turned toward the door as Destiny Hazen blew into the room, wide-eyed and panting from exertion.
She’s roughly my age, which puts her in her late thirties. She’s roughly my height, which makes her around five-six. She’s roughly my coloring, although my curly brown hair is all natural, and hers has chemical origins. That’s where our similarities end.
I gravitate toward jeans and T-shirts; Destiny prefers lace, leather, and lots of skin. Tonight’s selection was a pair of jeans so tight I wondered how she could breathe at all and a skimpy tank top cut so low that her ginormous silicone breasts threatened to spill out of it with every step she took.
She teetered into the room on a pair of four-inch patent-leather stilettos and treated us all to a broad, toothy smile and the overpowering punch of cheap perfume. I think only half of the room’s occupants saw her smile. Every male eye in the room was glued to her breasts and their battle for freedom.
As she passed Edgar’s chair, she ran a couple of glossy red and lethal-looking talons across his shoulders. She treated her husband to a sloppy wet kiss, and sat in the empty seat beside his with an R-rated jiggle. “Am I late?”
Aquanettia’s mouth pursed so tightly it looked like she’d been sucking on a lemon. “Yes, you’re late. The meeting started half an hour ago. Really, Destiny,
if you can’t get here on time—”
“I’m sorry,” Destiny interrupted. “I got caught in a conversation I couldn’t get away from.” She gave another bounce and smiled. “It won’t happen again, I promise. Tonight’s the deadline, right? There’s still time to get my name on the ballot?”
Felix catapulted out of his seat. “You? You want a seat on the board? You’ve never even been to a meeting.”
Destiny waved her red talons at him. “So? I’m here now. And I don’t just want a seat on the board. I’m running for president. Or whatever you call it. Against Aquanettia.”
Aquanettia let out a strangled sound that might have been the lemon lodging in her throat.
“That’s impossible,” Felix said as a deep red stain crept up his face. “You have a criminal record.”
My ears perked up at that. Not that I could see what difference it made for a figurehead position on a community alliance, but still, this was juicy stuff.
“Why am I not surprised?” Edie mumbled.
Destiny tossed a lock of overprocessed hair over her shoulder. “I do not have a record.”
“She was only charged, not convicted,” Moose put in. “We’re still waiting for her court date. Isn’t she supposed to be innocent until proven guilty?”
Well, sure. Technically. But I could see doubt on a few more faces around the table.
“And what about after court?” Felix demanded. “What are we supposed to do if the president of the alliance is sitting in a jail cell?”
“That won’t happen,” Destiny assured us all. “The charges are all bogus anyway.”
“That’s what they all say,” Lorena argued. “You can’t know what’s going to happen in court until you get there.”
“Oh, yes I can,” Destiny said, spreading a pleased look around the room. “In fact, if I play my cards right, the whole thing could just disappear. I might not even have to go to court at all. So put my name down there, Aquanettia. And may the best woman win.”
Lorena shared an appalled look with Felix. “I knew we should have voted on your motion,” she grumbled.
Edgar winked at Destiny and smiled up at Aquanettia. Edie’s mouth fell open in shock, and Gabriel chuckled. “Oh, this is going to be fun,” he said in a voice so low only I could hear him.
Fun? I wasn’t sure I agreed with him, but I did think the election had suddenly become a lot more interesting.
• • •
It was after ten when Aquanettia finally banged her gavel for the last time and the promise of escape danced in front of me. With Ben & Jerry whispering to me, I groped my way toward the door but Sebastian Walker stopped me before I could get away. He’s a tall man with a Will Ferrell look. Curly brown hair, a wide-open face, and a friendly smile that sets customers at ease when they visit the pharmacy. “Don’t go anywhere yet,” he said. “We need to have a quick meeting of the cleanup committee. It won’t take long. Twenty minutes at the most.”
I groaned aloud, stuck out my tongue at Gabriel as he slipped past me to freedom, and grudgingly resumed my seat. I watched Destiny sashay out the door with Edgar and pretended not to notice the look on Moose’s face as his wife tottered off with another man.
Thanks to her, we’d accomplished next to nothing during the past three hours. First, we’d had to discuss her eligibility to challenge Aquanettia since she’d never been to a meeting. She’d won that round because we hadn’t anticipated the problem and so hadn’t addressed it in the temporary rules. Then we’d spent far too long explaining for her benefit why we couldn’t just hire an outside firm to handle the neighborhood cleanup, followed by a lengthy discussion about the brand of whitewash we’d chosen for the storm shutters. Destiny had wanted to vote again on the theme we’d chosen for the spring sidewalk sale at our last meeting, but she’d been on the losing end of that vote.
All of that had made Felix fume, and sputter, and shift around in his seat just waiting for the moment when he could make his motion to remove her on the record. Which, of course, had resulted in another hour of shouting and ranting (mostly Felix and Lorena) and crying and jiggling for the benefit of the voters (Destiny and . . . well, just Destiny) and multiple excuses (also Destiny).
In the end, Moose’s short but impassioned plea to give his wife another chance had decided the vote. By a narrow margin, we’d given Destiny a reprieve, along with a firm warning that one more absence would result in automatic removal from the alliance membership. She’d reacted with tearful accusations that half of us were trying to skew the elections by making her appear ineligible to run. Discussing that accusation seemed like a colossal waste of time to me since I didn’t think she stood a chance of actually winning the election but we discussed it to death anyway.
Swallowing a yawn, I settled in for a rundown of the plans the committee had put together for our first neighborhood-wide cleanup effort scheduled for the coming weekend. I’d been put in charge of collecting donations of food, water, garbage bags, and tools in one spot to make distribution easier on Saturday morning. I got that assignment mostly because Zydeco is located in a lovely renovated antebellum home with plenty of storage space. The collection was supposed to take place the following afternoon.
Sebastian took his role as committee chair seriously, so I accepted the checklist he handed out and resigned myself to sticking around. But by the time the cleanup committee had gone over the game plan three times in a row, I was bone tired and my sunny disposition had given way to gray clouds. Once Sebastian finally ended the meeting, I shot to my feet and told Edie I’d meet her outside as I headed out the door.
Halfway down the stairs, I heard someone call my name, but I pretended not to hear it. Whatever it was could wait until tomorrow.
“Rita?” the man called again. “Hold up. I need to talk to you.”
I wasn’t interested in talking about trash collection or tire disposal, but I paused at the foot of the stairs and turned around to see who was calling me. Amid displays of jewelry, outdated electronics, used shoes, vinyl records, a couple of boxy TV sets, some teacups and coffee mugs, and an old cigar box filled with key chains, I found myself looking up into Moose’s earnest gaze. He towered over me by at least a foot and was probably twice my size around so I turned on a friendly smile in the interest of self-preservation. “What can I do for you?”
He jerked his head toward the front door. “Let’s go outside. This is kind of private, and I don’t want Destiny to overhear us.”
I wasn’t sure where he was going with that, but since I wanted to get out of the building almost more than anything at that moment, I went along. He held the door and I stepped out into the night. Streetlamps cast a dim light over the sidewalk near the street, but together with the massive trees in the front yard, they created deep shadows that made it hard to see the uneven walk across the yard.
I was curious about what Moose wanted. Our businesses were close in proximity, but he doesn’t fit Zydeco’s client demographic, and I have never felt the need for a Harley. I could have counted on two fingers the number of conversations we’d actually had, and neither of them had gone much beyond saying hello and discussing the weather.
Maybe he wanted to court my vote for Destiny in the election, but if so, he was going about it all wrong. I didn’t want to align Zydeco publicly with either candidate and risk alienating neighbors from either camp. I planned to cast our vote in secret and do my best to appear neutral during the campaign.
While I followed Moose through the gate and along the sidewalk in the direction of the Chopper Shop, I practiced saying “no” in what I hoped would be a friendly, “please don’t hurt me” manner. I noticed Lorena talking to a couple of people across the street in front of the pet store and heard bits of conversation as people left Second Chances behind us. When we were about halfway between the two stores, Moose stopped walking and looked around to make sure we were alone. I presented my most impartial expression and channeled my inner Switzerland.
He shoved h
is beefy hands into the pockets of his jeans and hunched his shoulders. “I hope this isn’t overstepping, but since you’re coordinating donations for the cleanup, I was hoping you’d let Destiny help out. She wants to get involved. You saw that for yourself upstairs at the meeting, but some people keep trying to block her.”
That wasn’t exactly what I was expecting, but I didn’t let the element of surprise throw me. “Of course, she’s welcome to donate supplies like everyone else,” I said. “In addition to the cleaning stuff, we’re going to need lots of water to keep volunteers hydrated, and snacks to keep their energy up.”
Moose ran a hand along the back of his neck. “No, I meant help. Be part of the team. Or the committee. You know . . . work with you. It would go a long way to making the others take her seriously.”
Personally, I thought a change of wardrobe might gain more ground, but I didn’t say so aloud. In fact, I couldn’t make myself say anything. I think it was the way Moose was looking at me—like a hopeful little boy peeking out of that huge man-sized body. All I could think was, why did he have to ask me? Why couldn’t he have found someone else to ask? I didn’t have the heart to say no to him, but Edie would blow a gasket if I said yes.
“Things have been pretty rough the past few years,” Moose confided. “And the thing is, Destiny and I really need a new start, what with the arrest and all.”
I just nodded and said, “Everyone deserves a second chance.” I didn’t know what else to say.
The Cakes of Wrath (A Piece of Cake Mystery) Page 2