by Cat Clayton
Cuff perched on Daniel’s lap in the back.
Gertie unsnapped her seatbelt in the front seat and reached into her handbag. She pulled out a pair of binoculars.
“What’re you doing?” I asked.
“Surveillance,” she replied. “What does it look like I’m doing?” She peered through the lenses. “I don’t see any activity over there.”
Daniel scooted himself and Cuff up, wedging them both between the front seats. They stared out the windshield, Cuff panting from all the excitement.
“What will we do when she gets there?” Daniel asked.
“Ambush them. What else?” Gertie replied.
I am not so sure an ambush is the right thing to do, Chiquita.
I snatched the binoculars from her grip. “We’re not doing any such thing! This is ridiculous. Let’s go. He’s a free citizen. If he wants to see other people, he can. I won’t put up with it. But we are not accosting them.”
“Look!” Daniel pointed. “There she is!”
A silver sports car pulled up in front of Jackson’s house. The car door opened, and long legs clad in a pair of dark skinny jeans and cute tan booties emerged first. I silently cursed as the rest of her perfect body appeared. The tight-fitting, aqua-green sweater emphasized her bronze skin and Barbie-blonde hair. She glided across the lawn, graceful and willowy. I hate her.
Now, now, Chiquita.
Gertie whistled. “She’s like an Amazon.”
“More like an Amazon goddess,” I said. One of Mama’s favorite adages, don’t judge a book by its cover, sounded off in my head.
Daniel patted my shoulder. “You’re much cuter.”
Cuter? Just what I’ve always wanted.
Jackson met the woman at the door. He opened it and she entered. The door closed behind them. I really couldn’t sit here and watch it unfold.
“I can’t stand this. We’re leaving.”
“Baby sister, let me handle it,” Gertie said, pulling on the door handle. The door whooshed open in the wind and she practically tumbled out of the car.
I tried grabbing her, but my seatbelt held me strapped in. “Gertie, no!”
I fumbled with the seatbelt.
“Watch and learn,” Gertie said, running as fast as her stubby legs would carry her. Her purse bounced on her hip with every stride.
“Gertie! Come back here!” I hollered out the car window.
You better catch her, Chiquita. This could get ugly.
I struggled out of my seatbelt and ripped the keys from the ignition. “Come on! Help me wrangle her back in the car.”
I flipped the driver’s seat up, and Daniel and Cuff poured out of the back seat. We took off at a sprint after Gertie, who’d rounded the corner of the white picket fence in Jackson’s front yard.
“Hurry!” I yelled at Daniel.
Part of me thought Daniel wanted Gertie to get a hold of Jackson, which might’ve been the reason he traveled at a snail’s pace.
We were too late. Gertie rang the doorbell. By the time Daniel, Cuff, and I panted up the front steps of the porch, Gertie stood, hands on her hips, tapping her right foot. She pointed at Jackson.
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Bolivar Jackson. My granddaughter deserves an honest man.” She pulled Big Red out of her purse and took a puff.
Jackson’s eyes darted back and forth between the three of us.
“With all due respect, Mrs. Lamarr, you do not understand what’s going on,” Jackson said in a slow, clear voice.
The front door swung open, revealing the stunning blonde holding Taffy. She appeared mighty comfortable holding Jackson’s pup. Like she’d held her before.
Taffy! Cuff bolted up the steps and began jumping up and down on the woman’s legs. Put her down!
“Sorry to intrude like this. We’ll be going,” I said, tugging on Gertie’s sleeve. I glanced at Jackson, and I couldn’t quite decipher his expression. A combination of anguish and embarrassment.
Ignoring Cuff’s persistent jumping, the woman stepped forward and extended her hand to Gertie. “Hi, I’m Angelica. Jackson’s wife.”
I sucked in a breath and nearly swallowed my tongue. Wife?
Gertie refused to shake her hand. “Well, I don’t know where you’ve been the last three months, but he’s dating my granddaughter now. So, bugger off!” She took another puff and blew out a long stream.
Angelica smiled and let out a nervous chuckle. “Feisty little thing, isn’t she,” she said, tossing her blonde mane.
“I’ll show you feisty,” Gertie said, her chest puffing up like a mama hen.
Still standing on the bottom step, Daniel bit his lower lip. He talked big, but when it came down to an actual confrontation, he avoided it at all costs. Like the time he insisted on taking me into the police station to report I’d been followed and harassed. Nick had been such a jerk then, blaming me for sticking my nose in everything. And Daniel just sat there and took everything Nick threw at us.
Jackson signed. “Angelica, meet Mrs. Gertrude Lamarr, her granddaughter Steely, Daniel, and Steely’s dog, Cuff,” he said. “Everyone, this is Angelica.”
I wished a black hole would open up in the universe and suck me in.
Cuff barked up at Taffy, who appeared very comfy in the woman’s arms. I said, put her down!
“Cuff, come here,” I said, my voice strangled.
Cuff listened and retreated to my side. You okay, Chiquita?
Not really. I turned and took the porch steps one at a time, careful not to trip on my way down.
“I need to get out of here.” My heart pounded in my chest.
“Steely, wait,” Jackson said.
I didn’t. I continued striding across the lawn until I hit the sidewalk. “Gertie? Daniel? We have work to do.” I marched back to the car, my eyes filling with tears. Don’t you dare shed a tear, Lamarr.
Cuff hopped into my lap and we waited for Gertie and Daniel. I swiped away the tears with my sleeve. In silence, I congratulated myself for not flipping out back there. I’d passed anger and lash out mode and went straight to defeat and broken-hearted. What is it with the men in my life having a thing for blondes?
I stepped out and yanked the driver’s seat forward for Daniel to crawl in. Gertie slid into the passenger seat and slammed the door. I turned the ignition over.
Daniel knew better than to breathe a word.
“You’re not tossing in the towel, are you?” Gertie asked. “I can’t believe you’d let him get away with this? Maybe you should’ve worn those sexy boots he likes so much.”
I kept my head forward, my eyes on the road, and my mouth clamped shut. Because if I didn’t, I’d scream.
Chiquita, I am worried about you. Look at your hands.
I’m fine, I thought. I’ve got this. I glanced at my hands clenching the steering wheel, knuckles white. Count to ten. He’s freaking married! One, two, three...
“Baby sister, there are plenty of fish in the sea,” Gertie said.
A few blocks from the shop, I pulled over to the side of the road, shifted the car into neutral, and pulled up the handbrake.
“Why’re you stopping?” Gertie asked.
I peered at Daniel in the mirror, his eyes wide. He probably sensed I was about to lose it.
My cell phone rang. The name scrolling across my radio’s screen made me clench my jaw. Jackson. Ignoring the call, I turned to Gertie.
Take a deep breath, Chiquita.
I followed Cuff’s suggestion and breathed.
“For the record, I am not tossing in the towel. I am not letting him get away with this. I do not want any other fish in the sea. I want Jackson. I am devastated. I cannot believe this is happening to me again. I want everyone to be quiet and let me think, so I can figure out what my next move will be. Until then, please keep your advice to yourself,” I said.
Her eyes sparked with anger. “Fine,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Do you want me to get out and walk the rest of the w
ay? I know you’re mad at me.”
“No, I don’t want you to get out and walk. Quit being a drama queen.”
I put the Bug in gear and drove past the road leading to the back of the shop. Nobody said a word. Even Cuff remained silent, perched on my lap.
Two minutes later, I pulled up to the curb in front of Orsack’s. I killed the engine.
“Orsack’s again?” Gertie asked.
“Yes. I need pie. Lots of pie.”
“And ice-cream,” Gertie said.
Can I snooze in the car with the windows cracked? Cuff twisted his head at me.
I smiled. Sure thing, I thought, and rolled the windows down halfway.
WE SAT IN A BOOTH IN the café's corner. Orsack’s served Blue Bell Ice-Cream, by far the best ice cream in the world. Their famous motto stated: We eat all we can and we sell the rest. We all had our favorites. Gertie’s was Buttered Pecan. I preferred a scoop of Homemade Vanilla on top of a slice of apple pie, and Daniel went nuts over Pistachio Almond.
I wolfed down the entire slice of pie and moved on to my huge scoop of ice cream when I broke the silence.
“I’m sorry, Gertie. I didn’t mean to yell at you. Daniel, thank you for keeping calm. You have no idea how much it helped me back there.”
With a mouthful of Buttered Pecan, Gertie said, “You sorry for calling me a drama queen?” She pouted like a two-year-old and sucked on her spoon, her expression priceless.
Daniel and I burst into laughter. Seconds later, Gertie joined us. It felt good. Right until the moment Vivienne Peacock, her husband, whom I’d never met before, her niece Stacia, and my ex-boyfriend walked through the front door.
I so didn’t need this today. Mrs. Peacock, in the café, with a meat cleaver.
She scowled in my direction as Wendy showed the group to their table. The rest of her party ignored us.
“Phew, the woman is shooting you death glares,” Gertie said. “Want me to give her a piece of my mind? I’d like to give her granddaughter a piece of my mind for shoving me last night. It’s her fault I melted Dolly.”
As much as I’d enjoy watching my grandmother tell either of them where to stick it, I’d rather avoid a scene.
“Ignore them,” I said.
“It’d be entertaining at the very least,” Daniel said, chuckling.
I took a bite of ice-cream and savored the thought of my grandmother letting the woman have it. I knew Gertie could put the witchy woman in her place.
“Entertaining, yes. But Peacock could stir up trouble again for the shop. Don’t you remember the onslaught of cancellations after the ordeal with Nick and her niece? She darned near ruined our reputation.”
“Well, you say the magic word, and it’s on like Donkey Kong,” Gertie said.
I stole a glance over at their table. “Do you think she hates me because I refuse to join her stupid Pleasant Ladies Society?”
“Maybe,” Daniel said. “But I bet it’s for threatening her niece.”
With her mouth full, Gertie said, “My guess is because she used to date your Pop back in high school, before he started seeing your mama.”
“What?” I asked, nearly tumbling out of my chair.
Pop dated the witch?
Chapter 9
Daniel’s eyes popped out of his head. “You’re joking, right?”
“No, I’m not kidding.” She swallowed and squeezed her eyes shut. “Ugh, I hate ice cream headaches.”
“Why doesn’t Pop ever talk about it?”
“Would you?” Gertie said, pushing her bowl toward the edge of the table. “I mean, look at her sour-puss face. I’ve always felt sorry for her husband, because I don’t think she ever stopped pining for your father. It’s the whole reason she never liked your mama either. Guess she associates you with her.”
Hmm... well, it explains a lot. Vivienne’s dislike for me, her happiness about Nick picking her niece over me, and her determination to ruin the reputation of my shop.
“It’s sad people can’t leave the past in the past,” Daniel said.
“Here, here!” I said, and we clanked coffee mugs.
Gertie changed the subject. “When’s he bringing Stoney home?”
“Probably tomorrow. When he called me earlier, they were still at the hospital. So, I guess when the doctors release her, they’ll come home.”
“I imagine it had to be so awful,” Daniel said. “It’s a good thing she’ll have such a great support system here.”
Gertie, sitting next to Daniel, clapped him on the back. “You’re damn straight, Danny Boy! We’re gonna show her lots of love and help get her life back together.”
I really hope so, I thought.
Gertie excused herself and said she’d meet us up front. I paid the tab and as we left, Vivienne reared her ugly head and created the scene I’d earlier avoided.
“There she goes, folks!” she said to the room full of customers. “Ever wonder why it’s her who finds the dead bodies or why the murder happens around her?” She pointed at me. Her red and white pinstriped blouse hurt my eyes, making me dizzy.
Mr. Peacock placed his hand over hers and whispered something in her ear.
She pushed him away, stood up, and rushed over toward me. “Think about it, folks! The old homeless guy, Mrs. Schirmack, now Petunia... I bet she’s had something to do with each of their deaths. Did you know she doesn’t even go to church?”
The entire room grew silent, every pair of eyes on us.
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re the one who was out for her job. Maybe you had something to do with Petunia’s death! And you had that stupid petition going around to get her kicked out of the pet costume contest.” I leaned in closer. “Be careful, your crazy pants are showing.” I maintained a voice level only for her ears on the last part.
She came at me, claws extended.
Gertie barged her way between us, staring up at Vivienne. “Touch one red hair on my granddaughter’s head, and I’ll take you down!” She stabbed her fists on her hips, elbows out.
A few snickers erupted from the crowd, and Vivienne’s face turned a deep crimson.
“Well, don’t just sit there with your mouths hung open, someone around here has to agree with me!” Vivienne said through clenched teeth.
When nobody stood up or said a word, she threw her hands up in the air. “Seriously?”
“Seriously! And just so we’re completely clear, my granddaughter’s church attendance is none of your business,” Gertie said, poking a finger at Vivienne’s chest. “Turn around, go back to your seat, and get a life!”
Grumbling, Vivienne stomped back over to her table. If she had a tail, I’m certain it would’ve been tucked between her legs.
“Thanks, Gertie.”
“Don’t mention it, but for the record, you should start going to church with me.”
On our way out, I glanced over at Vivienne’s party. Nick looked positively mortified. Glad to know I wasn’t the only one in the world who could make him so uncomfortable he’d want to crawl into a hole and hide. Touché.
I dropped Gertie and Daniel back at the shop. I told them I needed to take a drive and clear my head. Although a cool afternoon, the warm Texas sun kept the temperature mild enough. My pullover hoodie made the perfect attire for a nice walk.
I parked the Bug near the curb at the park. Cuff and I hopped out and walked toward the pond, careful of mama goose.
You know she scares my tail off, Chiquita.
“I know, little buddy. But I don’t see her anywhere. Maybe she flew south for the upcoming winter.”
We strolled around the pond for a bit, enjoying the quietness. I peered over at the library. After all the excitement of Petunia’s death, Jackson and the blonde, the news about Stoney, and the wrath of Vivienne Peacock, I’d nearly forgotten about the pet costume contest and how we were out a judge. How many participants were we up to now? Six? Seven?
Scrubadub would have to find another judge or we’d be in a real pinch. I’d st
art on it first thing Monday morning. Last year, Gertie had wrangled one of the DJ’s from a radio station over in College Station to judge. I guessed if push came to shove, I could call him again.
A light inside the library caught my attention.
But it is Sunday, Chiquita. The library is closed.
“You’re right. Let’s make sure everything is okay.”
We crossed the street and approached the front of the library with curiosity. I peeked through the glass front doors. There was a light on near the back of the room near Petunia’s office. The rest of the library lights were off, not a soul in sight.
Do you think someone left a light on by accident? Cuff nosed my leg.
“Hmm... maybe. Or maybe someone is in there.”
I tried the doors. Locked. I knocked, but nobody appeared. Recalling the last time we were here, a sneaking suspicion crept up my spine. I shivered.
“Let’s go around back and have a look,” I said and took off for the side of the building.
Cuff stood on the front steps and twisted his head in my direction. You sure about this, Chiquita?
“Come on. The gardens are open to the public anytime. We’ll be fine.”
With his ears back and his head low to the ground, Cuff followed me.
The gardens in the back were quiet, empty, and it saddened me to know they’d never have Petunia’s green thumbs working in them again.
I made my way over to the area where we’d found her body. They had removed the crime scene tape. A shovel leaned up against the wooden handle of the wheelbarrow, the mulch still piled high.
I bent down, observing the multitude of footprints in the drying mud and ran my hand over the ground, still damp from the flooding two days before.
What is it, Chiquita? Cuff sniffed the ground and made his way over to the wheelbarrow. He peed on the metal leg and trotted off behind the potting shed.
I will be right back.
“What had Petunia been doing when she collapsed? Had she been alone? Or was someone with her?” I said to an empty yard, recalling the pleasant expression on her face when I’d found her. “She seemed at peace. Like she’d merely lain down and fallen asleep.”