Someone Bad and Something Blue

by Miranda Parker

  I gasped and looked to my right. Maxim was face up on the ground and not moving.

  “Was Sean Graham really my boy or were you just stalling me?” Biloxi asked.

  I nodded. “Yes, he was.”

  He whimpered and then dead silence except for the yowl of a fire truck approaching and the rustle of the Spanish moss dancing above us.

  I left Bill and then ran to Maxim’s side. He was grunting and squirming, but not dead.

  I caught his hand. “Why did you follow me after I left?”

  “Still nursing a crush.” He grinned, then winced.

  I kissed him on his cheek, then somehow my lips found his mouth. His lips were soft. I stopped abruptly and chided myself. I held him in my arms until the medics came to fly him to the nearest hospital. No one was there to help me ease my guilt for a good half hour.

  41

  Monday, 9:30 AM

  Charlton County Sheriff’s Office, Folkston, Georgia

  “So explain to me why we’re not looking for Rosary?” I asked Ty.

  He had taken over the case, since Maxim was now hospitalized for the gunshot wounds. The B&B was now a crime scene, so we were back at the sheriff’s office. Tiger and Justus had returned to the station. They were waiting for me in the lobby. The sheriff had me in the interview room. They wanted to close this case and get the correct messaging to the sheriff’s PR spokesperson.

  “She’s either dead or no longer in danger; if the latter she’ll come out of hiding once she hears the news that The Knocker is dead,” Ty said.

  “Fair enough.” I huffed.

  “Can you believe that Sean was Giselle and The Knocker’s son?”

  “Please don’t report that. The woman can’t take much more scandal.”

  “Man, that’s still crazy to me.” JD shook his head. “You would kill your own son like that over moonshine.”

  “Biloxi didn’t know. He was crying when he died,” I said.

  “Man, that’s wild.” JD shook his head.

  “It’s sad.”

  “Well, you did good, Angel.” JD smiled.

  “I don’t think I’ve done anything.” I folded my arms over my chest. “Sanchez is dead. There was also someone else out there with me and Biloxi. I don’t know who that is.”

  I still didn’t know who the mole was either, but I kept that information to myself. Maxim was gone and I needed to get back home to my child. The truth would come out about that eventually.

  JD frowned. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive and I think we need to have a chat with the volunteer fireman chief before we close this case.”

  “Why? ” JD asked.

  The U.S. Marshal for this region walked into our office. She was a beautiful forty-something, blond, blue-eyed woman. I could see patches of smut on her cheeks. Her team must have been deep in the swamps when they heard of what happened to us.

  “Sorry I’ve missed most of the hoopla, searching for a needle in a fire ball, but I was listening outside and I’m curious to hear your theory, Angel Crawford.”

  I nodded at her then returned my attention to Ty. “When you said that you called the volunteer firefighters to help us through the swamps I told Sanchez that I wondered if the reason we had trouble finding the stills was because the distiller was a fireman. A fireman could easily alert the distiller that we were coming.”

  The room became silent.

  “The case is closed,” the sheriff said.

  “The Knocker’s case is closed, but I’m talking about the first one, the King Pin Moonshiner.”

  Ty rubbed his hands together. “Tell me more.”

  “If I had a million-dollar-a-year-grossing enterprise hidden between the smoke and brush of the Okefenokee Swamp, I would volunteer to save it,” I said.

  Ty nodded. “I know I would.”

  JD smiled. “Let’s go see.”

  I turned to the blonde Marshal. “Marshal?”

  “Call me Meg.” She smiled.

  “Like Mary Margaret Meg?” I asked.

  “Nope. More like Nutmeg.” She stepped toward our digital whiteboard and studied it. “Makes a lot of sense and won’t hurt to look. Trouble is the fire is picking up.”

  “It could be picking up because we’re looking for stills and the shiners need to burn any evidence of them,” I said.

  Meg’s eyebrow rose. “Circle the wagons. We’re going back out.”

  Ty patted my back and we followed the other Marshal team back down the super foggy road. Before the night was out we found it, miles of copper stills lined between tall pine trees and marsh.

  JD hugged me tight. “You really done it, girl! Sanchez would be ecstatic over this.”

  “She definitely would.” Ty shook his head and smiled.

  I stood up. “That’s good to know.”

  “Where are you going?” JD asked.

  I sighed. “To a funeral and a wedding. Don’t know which one is worse.”

  The following Saturday, 3:30 PM

  Saint Philip AME Church, Atlanta, Georgia

  Lately funerals have been my greatest source of epiphany. Devon’s funeral I learned about unyielding faith and how I should never judge a book by its cover. The latter point really struck home at Sean Graham’s funeral.

  Sean’s funeral was held at Saint Philip AME Church on the corner of Candler and Memorial. It was the largest African Methodist Episcopalian Church in the South. The seven-thousand-plus congregation was mainly comprised of politicians, Elaine and the remainder of her staff, college professors, theologian types, and educators. Ava had been here before, so I asked her to tag along.

  Since dealing with Sean and his crazy family, I had been clinging extra to her lately. Justus hadn’t been hanging around my house like he did when we had begun to date and then Maxim . . . He was in Winn Army Hospital in Fort James four hours away near Savannah, refusing to take my calls. Best thing for me to do was to steer clear of the men in my life.

  “So what is Tiger Jones doing here?” Ava elbowed me.

  “Sean was one of his best-paying clients. Maybe he’s here to give his condolences and pass out his business cards,” I said.

  “He better have that contract and a check for you.” She scoffed. “That’s what he better have.”

  Since I’d returned from South Georgia I noticed that Ava used Tiger’s name in just about every conversation we had. I knew she didn’t like him, but what was the deal? And why was she now interested in my business?

  On top of that, Tiger had changed, too. He had stopped wearing his Big Bad Boys gear or any of his overstretched tracksuits. Today he wore dress slacks, a shirt, a tie, and a vest that somehow showcased his brawn and massive chest. I had rarely seen him dressed up. This was probably the first time he looked handsome for the world.

  Ava stepped in front of me like a good ride-or-die chick would do. I felt awkward about her defensive stance. Usually I was the protector or Whitney. This was totally brand new.

  “Mr. Jones, the family is over there, if you’re here to give your condolences; else she doesn’t want to talk to you.” Ava slid her hands onto her hips like a graceful and fearless tarantella dancer.

  I lowered my eyes to hide my chuckle. She was being a bit overdramatic.

  “Pastor Avalyn Marie, could you please move. Leave it to you to get scrappy in church,” Tiger said. “I just need to tell Angel something important.”

  “She can hear you from right here.”

  A few church members turned around.

  I touched her back and whispered, “I think in God’s house we could be safe.”

  “You didn’t think that a few months ago when Elvis was trying to make you into chopped liver, but I’ll acquiesce.” She moved to the right just a smidge.

  “Tiger, I need to get home. This service was long enough.”

  “Just a few minutes, Angel Soft.” He eyed Ava. “Alone, though.”

  She threw her hands over her chest and harrumphed. “Uh-uh.”


  “Ava, where can Tiger and I talk in private?”

  She rolled her neck. “What is it about the word ‘no’ you two don’t understand?”

  “Hunters don’t quit,” I said.

  Tiger smiled. “We don’t quit, Angel. I won’t quit you, so why are you trying to quit me?”

  “I never told you that. The last time we talked you made it clear that Riddick was more important to your business than I was.”

  “Don’t go there, because we were in a good space before you went down to the swamps. I told you I’ll take care of him in my own way.” He glanced at Ava then back to me. “I don’t want to hold you up, but I need to know. Will you come back? I’ll renew our contract just like before.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I’m not going back to that. Tiger, I’m not your employee. I work for myself and if you want me to continue doing what I’ve done for you, then you’re going to have to pay me. I’m a private detective also now.”

  “Thatta girl.” Ava cheered softly.

  I bubbled up with pride. “Tiger, I’ll have Whit draw us up a new contract. Say Tuesday?”

  “Angel Soft.” He said my name with hesitation.

  “I’ve never taken advantage of you before, so trust I won’t with this,” I said.

  “You know that what we do don’t come with much guarantee,” he said.

  “I’m a mother, Tiger Jones. I’m created to guarantee.”

  “Fair enough. Tuesday,” Tiger mumbled.

  “Uh, Mr. Jones. She didn’t hear you. Can you repeat that?” Ava asked.

  “I heard him, Ava. It’s all good.”

  She relaxed her shoulders then smiled.

  “Now that’s good news, because I’ve been holding onto this pew, trying to keep myself from cutting a new groove at Mr. Tiger Jones. You look good.”

  He furrowed his brow and grinned at the same time. “How you gon’ flirt with a player in God’s house?”

  “I knew it.” I snickered. “I knew y’all must have sniffed each other while I was away. That’s why you both sound crazy and that’s the real reason you’re here, Tiger.”

  Tiger chuckled. “You know you look good, girl.”

  Ava giggled.

  “I can’t do this.” I hurried outside onto the old sanctuary church steps and prayed Tiger and Ava wouldn’t say or do anything else that might send a lightning bolt through this beautiful church.

  Sean’s family sat in Kelly & Leak Funeral Home Cadillac limos. Five of them lined Candler Road. Rosary and Lucia sat in the first car with them. I frowned. So now she shows up.

  I ran down the steps toward the limo. I noticed the wheels turning. Rosary saw me coming toward them, waved, then turned back around. Are you serious? I ran faster.

  “Wait a minute!” I shouted. “Rosie, I risked my life to save you. That’s all I get?”

  I stopped running and decided not to follow them to the graveyard service. After all, I didn’t need her to confirm what I concluded on my own. Sean and Rosary fell in love with each other after they learned that they both had a family history with moonshine. Lucia was born from that love. Yet Sean didn’t want to share the good news with his family. He had a good reason. Rosie has issues with a red neck mob family to boot and then somehow he had found out about his father. Sean couldn’t spill the beans, not even to his lady love. Rosary took it personal and went back to drinking to quell her broken heart. Sean tried to find a way to straighten her up and get her out of her family obligation without losing the identity he had created so well. It was a big gamble; unfortunately he lost. Lucia would grow up without a father, but at least she didn’t have those generational curses. I hoped.

  I decided right then to reach out to Gabe’s family. They needed to know about Bella and she needed to know who they were.

  “Angel, may I chat with you for a minute?” Riddick Avery asked.

  I jumped. “You startled me, man.”

  He stood to the left of me. He carried a pack of cigarettes in his hand then placed them in his pocket. I wasn’t surprised by his presence here, because he and Sean were good friends. However, I was surprised that he wanted to talk to me. I was also surprised that he smoked.

  “Since we’re standing on holy ground, why don’t you tell me the real truth behind the card?” I asked.

  He chuckled nervously. “I knew that wasn’t going to wash with you.”

  “So why did you lie?”

  “Angel, we were at the Dunwoody Jail for Pete’s sake. We could have gone to jail, including your mom, if you had gotten any wilder.” He scoffed. “Not to mention that what I have to tell you must be in private. So I fibbed. I thought it was best if I kept that information to myself for a more appropriate time.”

  “Like today?”

  “Yes.” He nodded then reached in his pocket for the cigarettes again. I waited for him to take a smoke, but my patience had worn thin.

  “Riddick, please, don’t play with me,” I pleaded.

  “That picture was given to me by someone who wants to make contact with you, but he can’t.”

  “I assume you won’t tell me who this person is?”

  He nodded. “When I sent the flowers I had every intention of telling you who sent them, but with Sean dying and my realizing that Lucy was Sean’s baby, I won’t do it. I’m sorry, Angel. This is all I can say, so don’t ask me anything else about it.”

  “Riddick, you owe me more than this. Am I in danger? Is my daughter in danger?”

  “I’m a lot of things, Angel, but I would not let harm come to you. Like I said before I didn’t know Marlo would come at you like that. You have me all wrong.” He held both my arms with his hands. “You and Isabella are safe.”

  “So why won’t you tell me?” I began to cry.

  He released his hold of me, slid his hankie out of his pocket, and dabbed my eyes with it. “You may never understand my position on this matter, but it is the best thing for you, kid. Move on with your life.”

  “I’ll move on if you do me a favor, one kindness,” I said.

  His eyes narrowed. “What kind of favor?”

  “Cesar Cruz. I know his girlfriend works at Grits Draft House, the same place where your girl Marlo works. And I know that you know that Tiger’s butt is on the line. I just don’t understand why you haven’t picked him up yet.”

  “Dagnabbit, Angel.” He grimaced. “I’ll pick him up. Will that make you happy?”

  “No.” I smiled. “I’ll pick him up and you’ll be my heavy. That’ll make me happy.”

  Two weeks later . . .

  Back to the Georgia Coast

  I wish I could say that my life wrapped up into a pretty bow after I killed Biloxi “The Knocker” James and got to the semi-bottom of this mysterious note, but it didn’t. Ava and I weren’t entirely back to being patty-cake-playing twins as I had hoped, because of Tiger. Something was going on between them and I promised myself I didn’t want to know anything about it. Mama spent too much time at my house, which meant her new marriage was about to hit its expiration date. Drama . . . I overheard Whitney (actually, I tapped her line, thanks to Ty) telling Lark that she hadn’t taken the bar yet, because she wanted to be a bail enforcement recovery agent like me. As if . . .

  Then, to make matters worse, Bella spent so much time now with Ava and Mama I only saw her on school days, except when she needed me to chauffeur her to one of her many BFFs’ birthday parties. That was definitely not what I planned for the rest of my vacation.

  And then there was Lana’s wedding....

  Today I wore a violet bridesmaid’s dress. I hate violet. Everything else was beautiful. Lana’s Amsale dress made her groom cry when he saw her glide down that aisle. Stacy Albright even got off her high horse and accepted her debunked bridesmaid role. Lana had to have an extra groom to escort me. We didn’t have to look far. And to top it off, I had the audacity to catch the bridal bouquet and then tried to hide it from my escort when he came over waving Lana’s garter belt in the
air.

  “I think you and I are supposed to be dancing,” he said, as I slid into his arms.

  “As long as that’s all we’re going to do.” I smiled. “I know you. You may try to sneak a kiss.”

  He swung me around, then dipped me. “So I shouldn’t propose, then?”

  I giggled. “That would be crazy.”

  “But if you’re crazy in love”—Justus pulled me up, then knelt down in front of me and presented a diamond and sapphire engagement ring—“then you can’t help yourself.”

  My mouth dropped. I looked at him and then at the crowd gasping around us. I saw Maxim standing in the background. I blinked, but it wasn’t a figment of my imagination. He was in the room and smiling back at me. I wondered if he remembered our kiss.

  “Will you marry me, Evangeline Grace Crawford?” Justus formally asked. “Make me the second happiest man in this room, save the groom . . .”

  I saw people laughing, cameras snapping, Mom crying and ruining her mascara, but I didn’t hear anything. I looked down at Justus, back up at Maxim, and I couldn’t speak.

  Will Angel say “yes” or “no” to Justus?

  Who is Riddick keeping Angel from?

  Want to know who is the mole?

  Then join Angel on her next manhunt in Can’t Keep a Bad Bride Down, coming in December 2014 from Dafina Books.

  Don’t miss Miranda Parker’s debut novel—

  in stores now!

  A Good Excuse to Be Bad

  Smart, gorgeous, and too tough for her own

  good, bail recovery agent and single mom

  Evangeline Crawford moved to the burbs for

  a quiet life. Fortunately, it’s not turning out

  that way . . .

  1

  Wednesday, 11:00 PM

  Club Night Candy, Underground Atlanta, Georgia

  If I weren’t so screwed up, I would’ve sold my soul a long time ago for a handsome man who made me feel pretty or who could at least treat me to a millionaire’s martini. Instead, I lingered over a watered-down sparkling apple and felt sorry about what I was about to do to the blue-eyed bartender standing in front of me. Although I shouldn’t; after all, I am a bail recovery agent. It’s my job to get my skip, no matter the cost. Yet, I had been wondering lately, what was this job costing me?