She tensed at the question, her knuckles white against the black cup. “What do you mean?” Her eyes darted to the door as if seeking escape. “She wasn’t blackmailing me.”
“I witnessed an exchange between you two here in this kitchen last November. From the conversation, you were on the hook for a long time.”
She looked at me, her eyes watering. “She was bleeding my family dry.”
Her whispered reply almost derailed me, but I had to press on. “That’s why you were so relieved that day outside the police station. You mentioned going shopping which sounded heartless at the time.”
“Scarlett died before collecting her next payment. So why not take it and buy something for myself for a change?”
“What was she holding over your head?”
She frowned. “I’d rather not say.”
“Would you rather I called the police? I need to know about criminal activity involving my employees.”
“Please don’t do that,” she said, grabbing my arm. “It’s my younger brother who’s in trouble. He’s a teacher, and Scarlett saw him outside school property with a female student. If it became public knowledge, he could lose his job at the high school, so he came to me for help. It was innocent, I swear. Donnie’s not a pervert.”
“That’s for the police to decide.”
“Would you give me some time to discuss this with my family? To hire a lawyer?”
I hesitated, unsure if I should agree to her terms. The thumb-drive locked in my top desk drawer came to mind. Wasn’t I also withholding information? Even possible evidence? I could give them several days to come forward on their own. “Three days. After that, I’m going to the police.”
Mandy’s strained features relaxed. “Thank you.”
A jumble of voices sounded outside the kitchen door. I recognized Mrs. Hawthorne’s booming voice immediately. My face twisted in response to her braying.
“That’s my first appointment now.” Mandy bolted from her seat and sailed out of the kitchen.
Now, I had another burning question on my mind. Why did Scarlett need money? From appearances, that seemed to be the one thing she had plenty of. Big white house in an exclusive neighborhood, luxury car, designer clothes and handbags, and I suspected Mother Nature hadn’t produced those basketball boobs. Nope. Store-bought, had to be.
Holly stuck her head through the half-opened door, halting my racing thoughts. “Your client is prepped and ready,” she said.
The buzz of excited voices filled my ears when I left the kitchen and started down the hall toward the front of the salon. I glimpsed Holly folding towels as I passed the laundry room. Employees came and went like snowbirds in spring. We were lucky to have found such a good, hardworking receptionist, I thought, as I drew near the facial room. Suddenly, Scarlett stuck her head through the closed door, scaring the crap out of me.
“We need to talk,” she said.
I stumbled to a stop, my feet frozen to the floor. “Yes, we do,” I whispered. “But now’s not the time.”
Mandy, whose pedicure chair was in my direct sight, eyed me quizzically. I tried to smile reassuringly at her as Scarlett threatened dire consequences if I didn’t get my overly large butt in the facial room right now, emphasizing right now in a low, rumbling voice. Mandy winced. Her hand trembled as she lifted Mrs. Hawthorne’s fat foot out of the bubbling spa. Her gaze swept around as if expecting someone to jump out at her.
The second Mandy bent down over her client’s chubby toes, I ducked into the facial room. I heard the click of the door lock, and a small light over the sink flipped on of its own accord. I stood face to face with a ghost outfitted in velvet ranging from dark green to chartreuse.
The curtain dress. Modernized, of course, to Scarlett’s specifications.
“Look, I don’t have much time,” I said. “I know about the blackmail money from Mandy. Care to tell me why you were bleeding her dry? You didn’t need the money.”
“Wrong. I was left with a big house and lots of debts. Keeping up appearances costs a fortune these days. I saw an opportunity and I took it.”
“Okay, moving on. I found the jade elephant in your office. Turned out to be a book. And guess what I found inside?”
“A flash drive with my files on it.”
“You remember?”
“That’s what I was going to tell you last night, but your midnight visitor distracted me.”
“I have a problem. My computer won’t read the thumb-drive. And I need a password.”
“The password is moonpaddy.”
“Any ideas about the software to open it?”
She tugged down her tight skirt which had bunched over her hips. “Yes. I—”
The doorknob rattled. “The door’s locked, Holly.” Deena’s irritated voice filtered through the panel. “She’s probably in the restroom.”
“I checked there first. Her client is getting impatient.” Holly’s voice was equally agitated.
The knob rattled again. “Well, she’s not in here, so check the restroom again. I’ll look in the kitchen.”
I waited until their footsteps faded before turning back to Scarlett. “The software?” I whispered.
“Try my office computer.”
I sighed with exasperation. “Your former office is now occupied. How am I going to gain access?”
“Another nighttime visit,” she suggested.
“Sneak into the station like I did your house?” My voice rose. “I promised to stay out of trouble.”
“What choice do you have?”
Choices. The word held multiple outcomes. Bad choice—do as she suggested. Good choice—hand the thumb-drive over to Bradford—right now. I juggled the ball back and forth before I let out a long sigh of surrender. Scarlett’s smile wasn’t reassuring, but I gave her a quick nod. Now, all I had to do was come up with a good plan that would keep me out of jail or joining Scarlett in the hereafter.
Chapter Nineteen
Mama’s Having Sex
The next several hours passed by quickly. At noon, I had a break in appointments. Deena brought me a roast beef sandwich from the diner on Main before she left for a lunch date. I’d just finished eating when Billie Jo came into the kitchen and sat down at the table.
“Paul dropped off the analysis report on the contents of the jars in the facial room. They had plaster mixed into them.”
“Plaster? That’s strange. Is he positive?”
“He’s positive. He tested the paste on a small portion of skin on a cadaver, and the results showed it hardened slowly. He said it took thirty minutes for the paste to dry to the consistency of hard rubber.”
“Carla said she was away from the facial room for twenty minutes.”
“According to the test results, she lied to us.”
“And to the police,” I added.
“Maybe she’s confused about the time frame. She’s been acting strange lately.”
“Her marriage is falling apart, thanks to Scarlett.”
“That gives her motive.”
“And Frank too,” I said. “I’m gonna ride out to Carla’s house before the funeral. I’d like to hear his side of the story.”
“Deena and I are coming with you. We’re in this together.”
I rose from the table and dumped my paper plate into the trash can. “We’ll have a chance to talk about this tonight at Mama’s house.”
“What’s that about, anyway? She was terribly mysterious this morning when she called to invite me and Roddy to supper—she sounded nervous. Has she met a man and intends to introduce us to him?”
I thought about Daddy. “You might say that, Billie Jo.”
“Oh, so you know what’s going on?”
“Yes, I know.”
“So tell me.”
“No, I think it would be best for you to wait until tonight,” I said, picturing the aftermath of exposing this secret here in the salon. “This is a family matter to be discussed in private.”
Billie Jo made a
face. “She’s not planning on moving some stranger into the house, is she? I don’t want to think about her having sex in the same bed she shared with Daddy. I’m going to tell her she has to buy a new one. What do you think about Mama having sex?”
Thankfully, Deena came in and spared me from having to answer. “What are y’all talking about?” she asked.
“Mama having sex,” Billie Jo said. “Jolene said the reason Mama wants us to come out to the house for supper tonight is to tell us she’s moving some man into the house. I just think she should buy a new bed. That was Daddy’s bed.”
“I didn’t say that, Billie Jo.”
Deena smiled. “Mama’s seeing a man? Wow, she’s never mentioned anyone to me. I think that’s great news. Love keeps us young at heart.”
“Who said anything about love?” Billie Jo said. “We’re talking about sheet-wrinkling, heart-pounding, sex. Lust, pure and simple. You remember those days, don’t you?”
I slapped Billie Jo’s arm. “Stop bragging. And stop teasing Deena. She doesn’t think like we do.”
“Ha, she’s fooled you.”
The wall clock showed I had run out of time. “Well, back to work,” I said and left them in the kitchen. The rest of the day, I avoided Billie Jo like the plague.
At six, I arrived at the farm to find Mama pacing in the kitchen. The smell of burnt food struck me in the face when I opened the back door.
“Get in here and help me, Jolene. I burned the roast and forgot about the peas on the stove. They’re so scorched I had to throw them out.”
I set my purse down on the kitchen table, took a bottle of blackberry wine from the refrigerator, and poured Mama a tall glass. “Sit down and drink this. It’ll calm you down. Now, what’s in the freezer for emergencies?” I opened the window over the sink to air out the room.
“There’s homemade chicken vegetable soup.”
“Where’s Daddy?”
“He’ll be here soon.”
I went to the freezer, searched for a moment, and pulled out the freezer bag of soup. “I’ll put on a pan of cornbread to go with this. We don’t need much. Just enough for six.” I placed the bag on the counter and preheated the oven. “Did you and Daddy have a chance to talk?”
“Yes, we had lunch here where it’s private,” she said from the table.
I looked over at her nursing the glass of wine. “Do you think it’s safe for him to be here at the farm? What if Mr. Blackstone finds out he’s back?”
“We had a long talk over lunch. He’s going back on the road in the morning and will be gone for a week. When he returns, we’ll drive over to Fitzgerald. It’ll be safer over there.”
“Thanks for telling me your plans this time.”
“I regret the past, Jolene, but it couldn’t be helped. Your father’s foolish actions forced us into a dangerous situation, and I would’ve done anything to keep my girls safe and hang onto my home.”
I withheld comment and stepped inside the pantry, thinking about the ticking time bomb stashed in my desk. What secrets had Scarlett uncovered? More blackmailing schemes that shouldn’t get out into the public? Hopefully, tonight I’d know.
“Have you told Becky about her grandfather?” Mama asked.
“No. I’ll drop by her house when I leave here and have a talk with her. Jacob will be home, and I’ll feel better with him there. She’s been so sick with her first pregnancy. I’d love to wait until after she delivers, but I’m afraid someone might call her and drop the bomb.”
Mama was warming the soup on the stove when I came out of the pantry with the ingredients for the cornbread. I mixed them together and slid the pan into the oven. Deena, Billie Jo, and Roddy came through the back door.
Billie Jo flung her purse on the table. “Where’s he at, Mama?”
“And who are you referring to, honey?”
“The man you’re seeing. The one we’re here to meet.”
“What man?”
Detecting a faint tremor in Mama’s voice, I rushed to defuse the situation before it could take shape. “Would anyone like a glass of wine before supper?”
“Got any Scotch?” Roddy asked.
Mama pointed to the cabinet over the refrigerator. “Harland kept an old bottle up there over the ice box.”
“Daddy’s just the person I want to talk about,” Billie Jo said. “Mama, how could you?”
“Give her a chance to explain,” Deena suggested. “That’s why we’re here.”
I handed a glass of wine to Billie Jo. “Drink up. You need to de-stress.”
“Boy, you spoke the truth,” Roddy said, tossing down his drink. He poured another. “She talked me to death on the way out here. I love her, but there’s only so much a man can take.”
“Shut up, Roddy, or I’ll take my straight razor to your balls while you’re asleep,” Billie Jo snapped.
“Ohhh, I love it when you talk dirty to me,” he said.
Deena rolled her eyes at me and took the soup bowls I pulled from the cabinet. “I’ll set the table.” She disappeared through the doorway leading to the dining room.
Sliding up next to Mama, I whispered in her ear, “Don’t you think you need to tell them before Daddy returns from the fields? Now’s a good time.”
Mama nodded. “Deena, can you come in here for a minute? I have something I need to discuss with you girls.”
“Here it comes,” Billie Jo said from the table. She took a long swig from her glass.
Deena poked her head through the doorway. “What’s up?”
“Come on in and have a seat at the table,” Mama ordered.
“But I’m not finished—”
“It can wait. Have a seat with your sisters.”
Taking a seat beside me, Deena squeezed my hand. “I hope I like him.”
“You will,” I said.
Mama pulled out a chair and sat down. She cleared her throat, the room went silent. “Your father is alive.”
Her shocking words had the effect of a gunshot blast on a quiet Sunday morning. Once spoken, they stung the air like the caustic smell of gunpowder. A dull flush spread over Billie Jo’s face as if she too would explode. Roddy winced as her hand tightened on his. Deena’s face took on a slight greenish tinge—Mama’s, too.
“Good grief, Mama. I didn’t mean for you to blurt it out like that. Now everybody, stay calm,” I advised as my sisters turned their stunned gazes on me. “Give her a chance to explain.”
“You knew this morning in the kitchen that Daddy was alive and didn’t tell us?” Billie Jo accused.
“How long have you known?” Deena’s voice broke.
“Since last night,” I said. “I’m just as shocked as you are.”
“Don’t go blaming Jolene for staying quiet,” Mama said. “She’s done the right thing. I should’ve told you girls long ago. I just got scared, and well, I take full responsibility for my actions.” After a few expletives from Billie Jo, she quieted down, and Mama repeated her conversation with me from the night before. They deluged Mama with questions, and she did her best to answer, but tension mounted as we waited for Daddy to make his appearance.
The oven timer buzzed. I pulled the cornbread out of the oven and checked the soup, then uncorked another bottle of wine from the refrigerator and refilled my glass. Deena ambled off to finish setting the table, and Mama returned to her vigil over the soup.
She was standing at the stove, stirring the bubbling broth with a long wooden spoon when Daddy came through the back door. I gulped down my glass of wine, needing the fortification now that the moment of confrontation had arrived. I glanced at Mama. She stood frozen, her eyes taking in the drama. Billie Jo twisted in her chair at the click of the closed door, her wine glass paused in midair.
A flash of blue in the corner of my eye told me Deena had returned from the dining room. “Daddy!” She flung herself into his arms. Roddy set down his glass, pushing himself to his feet to meet his father-in-law, his hand possessively resting on Billie Jo�
�s shoulder. She rubbed her cheek against his hand, her pained gaze transferring from me to Mama.
“I’m sorry for what I’ve done.” Mama laid the spoon down on the stove top. “I was wrong in my judgment.”
“We were wrong,” Daddy said coming to stand beside her. Deena, still wrapped in his embrace, shuffled along beside him. “I won’t stand by and allow your mother to blame herself for my mistakes.”
Billie Jo stood. With slow, hesitating steps she approached him. When she reached him, she again hesitated. Releasing Deena, he gathered Billie Jo into his arms. “I know this is going to take time, honey, but give us a chance. We should’ve told you the truth long ago. Your mother and I made some mistakes for which we’re awfully sorry.”
“Yes, you did,” Billie Jo said with a catch in her voice. “Those life-altering mistakes will take a lot of time and love to erase, but I’m willing to try.”
From then on, things went well. After supper, I left my sisters to get reacquainted with Daddy and drove to my daughter’s house. Becky took the news in her usual calm manner, expressing the desire to meet her grandfather as soon as possible. Emotionally tired, I excused myself and drove home to retrieve the thumb-drive. I couldn’t put off going to the TV station any longer.
Thankfully, the lobby was deserted when I entered. In the distance, I could hear the soft murmur of voices, so I knew I’d have to proceed quietly to escape detection. Cautiously, I retraced my steps to Tammy’s office, not seeing a soul in the empty hall, and slipped inside the unlocked door.
With the light from a small flashlight, I sat down at the desk and booted up the computer. When ready, I inserted the finger stick and typed in the password.
An incorrect password message flashed across the screen.
I retyped “moonpaddy” and hit the enter button.
The same message flashed across the screen.
Crap. What now? Sure that I’d heard Scarlett correctly, I tried again for the third time without success. The same message blinked from the screen. I even tried various spellings, but still nothing.
Discouraged with another dead end, I withdrew the flash drive and stashed it, and the flashlight, alongside Mini Pearl in my purse, then turned off the computer.
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