by Tegan Maher
"Yeah, well the problem with that," he replied, floating along beside me while I fired up the coffeepot, "is how many people would have followed her around behind this particular building and stabbed her with a pair of scissors?"
"That's a valid point," I said, realizing there was only one person besides us that knew about the altercation or was at least there for it." That put a significant damper on things. "The only other person who knew about it, as far as I know, was the girl she came with. She called her Priscilla."
"Then I say that's a good place to start. What was she doing in town anyway?"
I shrugged as I hit the start button on the espresso machine. "She didn't say, or if she did, I wasn't listening."
"Man, that looks good," he said, eying the rich black liquid pouring into my up. "But why aren't you heating milk?"
"Focus," I said, not wanting to admit to him that I was trying to shave a few calories off my day. My jeans were getting a little tight, and he hadn't been shy about pointing it out a week or so before. "We're brainstorming how to keep Coralee out of jail, not worrying about what coffee I'm drinking. Maybe I just feel like something a little stronger and less sweet."
He narrowed his eyes at me. "You're dieting," he said, smugness creeping into his voice. "That's good though. Hunter's a fine-lookin' man with a good job, and he hasn't put a ring on it yet. Better stay in fightin' form until he does."
I rolled my eyes at him. "Hunter loves me for more than just my looks," I said. "As a matter of fact, I'd venture to say he'd stick around even if I did get chunky."
"Well you're well on your way to finding out," he said, brow raised.
"Hey! That was mean," I exclaimed. "And it's not exactly like you're svelte there."
"I'm dead," he pointed out.
"Well then," I snapped, "I'll take you as an example in what not to do, lest I find myself on the other side of the daisies carryin' around junk in my trunk for eternity."
Amusement flitted across his features as I took a sip of espresso. "Whatever it takes, sugar. You won't be the first person by a long shot. Now, back to Coralee."
I shot her a text asking if she knew what Loretta did for a living, and the first response she offered made me snort. The only place the woman could have filed taxes on that would have been Vegas.
Rather than text back, I called her, laughing a little. "Flat-backin' it was probably a hobby rather than a profession. What did she do for a living?"
"She's a real estate agent," she replied. "She's in town for a conference, staying over at the Marriott."
Since Keyhole Lake was centrally located between Atlanta and most of the rural towns and had the only hotel big enough to host a conference, we usually saw at least one a month. That explained why Raeann was so busy yesterday morning, and I groaned because that meant I'd probably be baking again that night. Still, money was money, so I wasn't going to complain. Plus, baking was good quiet time for me and it would give my mind time to process everything that was going on in my life.
"Is her husband with her?" I asked. Statistically, nine times out of ten, it was the spouse.
"She didn't say," Coralee replied, "but I don't suppose it would be too hard to find out. Have you asked Hunter?"
"No," I said. "You know how he is about me interfering in things, and he's a good cop. If it's somebody as simple as the husband, he'll surely find out."
"Still, it couldn't hurt to ask. Maybe there's some dirt there."
We hung up, and I turned my attention back to work. I had to go over to Bobbie Sue's at some point because Justin was staying the night at the farm, but I needed to get some work done first, and he was still in school, anyway. The bakery money was great, but Shelby had several years of college and vet school ahead of her, and I wanted to help out as much as I could.
CHAPTER NINE
THREE HOURS LATER, I'd finished turning an old chifferobe into a cute display cabinet. I'd hated to do it, but the doors had been so damaged that there was no salvaging them. Still, as I ran my sandpaper over the white paint to give it the shabby-chic look that everybody seemed to love, I was happy I'd saved most of it from the dump.
I took a few pictures of it from different angles and took a couple minutes to add it to my website along with a brief description and price. I was getting a decent handle on the market and managed to keep my prices at the high end of what people were willing to pay. That way I had room to haggle without losing my shirt while giving the customer the satisfaction of talking me down some. That was a big part of what I did, and I enjoyed it as much as they did. And then, there were the times people just bought it without haggling. I considered that bonus money and stuck it back in the rainy-day jar right off the bat.
My stomach rumbled, reminding me it had been too long since the muffin at Brew4U. I set the channel to the food network, Erol's go-to daytime television, then gathered my purse.
"Thanks, Noelle," he said. "But can you put it on the Hallmark Mystery Channel? There's a marathon on tonight."
"Sure," I said, "but that's still several hours away. What about Bobby Flay and all those shows?" He never missed those.
"Oh," he said with a wave of his hand, "I won't be here. We're organizing some movie nights since the weather's crappy, and I volunteered to schedule."
"Really?" I said, grinning. "That's awesome—it'll be good for you to get out, and it's right up your alley."
He'd spent the first year of his afterlife hiding in the very building we were standing in since it had been his sandwich shop before I bought it. It took him several months to come out of his shell enough to start interacting with the rest of Keyhole's post-living community even on a superficial basis, so this was a huge step for him.
He blushed. "It's no big deal, really. I'm just looking up movie times and places, then organizing them into groups. Comedies seem to be the most popular, then chick flicks."
"How does that even work?" I asked. "It's not like you can post a list."
"Actually," he said, "We can. Eleanor died clutching her legal pad and pencil, so she can write stuff down."
"Oh," I said, "I had no idea it worked that way."
He lifted a shoulder. "It doesn't all the time—a fact for which I think we can all be grateful if you think about some of the more embarrassing ways to die—but it does come in handy on occasion."
"I can see where it would. Maybe I should start carrying some pastries and coffee with me everywhere I go, just so I have it handy if I feel the big one coming one."
He rolled his eyes. "You mean to tell me that's what you'd choose to take into the afterlife with you?"
"Maybe," I said. "After all, if I'm dead, I don't have to worry about my butt size, remember?"
He scowled, and I enjoyed that I'd turned his words around on him. It happened so rarely that I took joy in it when it did.
"Yeah," he replied after a beat, "but until then, you may just want to carry it, rather than eat it."
I huffed out a breath—so much for one-upping him.
He grinned and lifted a shoulder as I pulled my coat snug around me and pushed out the door. "What can I say? It's a gift."
Bobbie Sue's was only a couple blocks up, but by the time I walked in the doors, my stomach was in full-on rebellion. The restaurant was empty since it was that dead time between lunch and dinner, and the smell of smoked meat and fried foods was sheer heaven. I followed my nose to the kitchen and grinned when I saw Justin, the ten-year-old they'd adopted after I'd rescued him from an abusive foster home, on a stool mixing up coleslaw in a giant plastic bin. "Hey, brat. What's shakin’?" I asked him.
His face lit up when he saw me, and my heart warmed. Before I'd met him, I'd been unsure about whether or not I wanted kids, but he'd pushed me firmly over the line to yes, though I wasn't in any hurry.
"Nothin'," he replied. "I got an A on my spelling test and my math test! Earl said we could go muddin' this weekend if it warms up enough. If not, we're gonna go see a movie over in Eagle Gap."
>
"You earned it," I said, patting him on the shoulder on my way to the barbecue table, where Ear was separating ribs. "I'm proud of you."
I snatched a steaming piece of meat off the table and Earl lowered his brows at me. "That's a good way to lose a finger," he said. "Make yourself a plate and stop eating straight from the trough."
I laughed and did as he said. "Where's Bobbie Sue?"
Earl motioned with his head toward the cooler. "Doin' inventory. There's a convention at the hotel, and we didn't hear about it 'til they came in last night and cleaned us out."
"Yeah, they did the same thing at Brew4U," I said. "I was up half the night baking. I assume it runs through the weekend?"
"That's was Mandy at the front desk says," Bobbie Sue said, wiping her hands on her apron as she popped out of the walk-in. "She usually gives us a heads up, but she was off when they booked and missed it on the calendar."
"Beats being dead," I replied, squirting a glob of ketchup on my fries.
Bobbie Sue snorted. "Yeah, but not if I don't have the food to feed them."
Fair point.
She grabbed an oven mitt and pulled a giant tray of golden cornbread from the oven. "So where have you been?" she asked, sliding a knife through the bread and plunking a nice corner piece down on my plate. "I haven't talked to you in a few days, except when you texted me about the murder."
"I know. I've been trying to get a little ahead at the shop, and Gabi's been working her tail off at the restaurant so I've been trying to help out by feeding for her. Today's her first day off in ten days. Will's had a string of calvings this week, so Shelby and Cody have been helping him."
She nodded. "It's that time of year. How's she doin'? I haven't talked to her since her last shift here, either."
Shelby filled in at Bobbie Sue's whenever Sarah or Louise, the manager, needed a day off. Since she'd been practically raised in the place, she knew her way around and could do just about everything except cook. In theory, she could have done all of that but the meat, but Bobbie Sue rarely needed her help for that.
"Has she decided on a school yet?" Bobbie asked, pulling a second pan of cornbread from the oven.
I shook my head. "Not yet." I explained the situation to her and she sighed.
"I was afraid that was gonna be an issue back when she was runnin' wild, but you had so much goin' on already that I didn't want to worry you."
Suddenly, I didn't feel hungry and stirred a fry in my ketchup. She gave my shoulder a squeeze and waited for me to look up at her. "Everything's gonna work out, you just wait and see. Even if she has to go away to school, it's not the end of the world. She'll be home for the holidays. And even then, I'm sure she'll get accepted to UGA for her undergrad. That's almost a guarantee, so you still have four years to worry about vet school."
"I know," I said. "I'm just bummed. I'm not sure what I'll do without her at the farm every day. We've never been separated. Even when she was being a pain, I knew she was there, and safe."
"You'll still have me," Justin said. "I'm not a girl, but I'll help at the farm and keep you company."
"Aww, thanks, brat. That means a lot." I smiled at him, then squared my shoulders. They were right. And it's not like I could do anything about it, anyway, so I shoved it to the back of my mind and determined to enjoy the time we had left before everything changed.
CHAPTER TEN
BOBBIE SUE MADE PLATES for the three of them and we sat down at a little table in the corner of the restaurant to eat before they got slammed for the night. Sarah came in just as we sat down and made a plate for herself, too.
"Are you doin' okay?" she asked me, spreading a napkin on her lap.
"As okay as I can be, I guess. A little too wigged out to park my truck back there just yet." Just the thought of it gave me the willies, which didn't make much sense. The logical side of my brain knew the murderer likely wouldn't be back there, and it's not like I was scared of ghosts. Still ... ick.
"I get that," she said. "Even in broad daylight, it has to be weird. You were at Coralee's when they had their little run-in, weren't you?"
I nodded. "The woman was a tool. It was like she was intentionally poking Coralee for a reaction."
Bobbie Sue shook her head. "You'd think she'd know better. They never got along in high school, but there was never any doubt who'd have come out on top in that match. She was always too worried about breakin' a nail, which is a little ironic when you look at what Coralee ended up doin' for a living."
"Yeah, Coralee said they didn't get along," I said, separating a couple of ribs before tearing into my meal. "But she also said they never had any serious issues."
"No, they didn't. Though I do have to say most people were surprised when Loretta started dating Buddy. She was a little uppity because her family had money, and her daddy was a fancy-pants lawyer. Buddy doesn't exactly fit into that category."
That, he didn't. Buddy was a salt-of-the-earth type of guy. I couldn't even picture him in a tux, let alone imagine him in a setting where he'd have to decide which fork to use. Now, if you wanted an in-depth analysis of the latest NASCAR technology, he was your guy.
"I think she did it to piss off her daddy," Earl said, and Bobbie Sue nodded in agreement.
"What about the girl who was with her?" I asked. "She's the only other person who saw what happened, so unless Loretta told other people, she may be the only person who saw the chance to kill her and pin it on Coralee."
"Nope," Bobbie said. "Those two been thick as thieves since the eighth grade or so. Even moved to Athens together when they went to UGA."
Rae and I had done the same thing, and Shelby and her merry little band were considering it too, so that wasn't necessarily weird. Kids did it all the time. "And they even stayed together after college? Does Priscilla live in Atlanta, too?"
Bobbie Sue shook her head. "No, she moved back here after college. She comes in here sometimes, but we don't talk much. I don't know if they stayed in contact or not."
"They must have," Earl said. "They were together at the salon." He paused for a second, a thoughtful look on his face. "I never did understand why Priscilla started running with that crowd, though. She was so nice until she started running with Loretta. Grew up right down the road from me and was just the sweetest little thing you'd ever hope to meet. Sad, really that such a good kid turned into such a snob."
"So what did she bring to the table? In the beginning, I mean?" I asked. People like Loretta didn't cultivate friendships based on a great personality. In my experience, mean-girl cliques, whether in high school or in life, were formed based on mutual benefit, not warm-and-fuzzies.
"Her dad was the mayor," Earl said. "Priscilla always kept her nose clean 'til she started running with Loretta's crowd, but once she did, they started getting into trouble. He got them out with no more than slaps on the wrists if they even got that." He shook his head. "Daddy woulda tanned my hide good if I'd pulled half the stunts those girls did."
Sarah wiped a glob of barbecue sauce off her chin before it could fall on her shirt. "What did they do?"
Bobbie Sue lifted a shoulder. "Rich-kid crap. Shoplifting lipstick, ditching school, stealing the keys to the mayor's car to go to the mall—that kind of stuff."
I was with Earl. Addy was never big on punishments—she could shame with the best of them, so there was rarely a need—but she'd have beat us within an inch of our lives for stealing her truck. On the flip side of that though, she raised us better.
"So basically, they had no consequences growing up, and that's why they're so entitled now," I said.
"That and they were all spoiled rotten and never had to work for anything," Bobbie Sue replied.
"Yeah," I said, "If what I saw of her in the salon is anything to go by, Loretta hadn't changed much. It was weird the way she taunted Coralee though. It was almost like Loretta was tryin' to get her to swing down on her."
Justin's brows raised, and I smothered a smile at the intense look on his
cute little barbecue sauce-covered face. "She didn't have a lick of sense then. Coralee ain't nobody to mess with."
I laughed and nudged him with my elbow. "No, she isn't, and wipe your face before I decide to hose you down. No way are you gettin' in my truck like that."
He scrunched his nose at me. "I will when I finish. No need to do it halfway through. I'm just gonna get messy again."
Logic I couldn't argue with.
"So what's Priscilla been doing since she got back?" I asked. "I've never met her."
"She and her husband are accountants, I think," Sarah said. "Her sister's kids go to preschool with Sean, and she's organized a couple events over there. She's been in here a few times, too. She seems okay."
"What about Loretta's husband?" I asked, making a mental note to learn more about Priscilla.
"I don't know nothin' about him," Bobbie Sue said, shaking her head. "She met him there and as far as I know, nobody here's met him. She pretty much lit out of here after high school and never looked back."
"What about her folks?" I asked. "Surely she came back to visit them, at least."
"I don't think so," Earl said. "Like I said, her daddy was a big-shot lawyer. He just used Keyhole as a place to get noticed. Big fish, small pond. Soon as she left for college, I'm pretty sure they pulled up stakes and went to Atlanta. Ain't no reason for her to come back here."
Bobbie Sue smiled a little. "I know it ain't funny—well, it sorta is because I don't like her no more dead than I did when she was alive—but she used to tease us about how all us hillbillies were gonna shrivel up and die right here in the backwoods hole we were born in. Looks like we have the last laugh on that one."
She was right. That was a little funny, in a karmic sort of way.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A COUPLE HOURS LATER, I was relaxing on the porch, bundled up with a glass of wine and a book while Max and Justin played porch chess. It was cold, but the sun was shining for once, so it didn't feel so bad. Gabi's truck rumbled up the driveway, and I was a little surprised when she just sat inside for a minute or two before she got out.