Southern Sass and Killer Cravings

by Kate Young

  My smile was back in place. “Yes, I’m sure you did. Um, I was just wondering if perhaps something else came to mind since then. The diner being closed is terrible for the business on the square. You know the foot traffic that it brings in daily will suffer.”

  She nodded. She had benefited from the crowds that frequented our diner for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Especially during the summer months, when it was just too hot for people to feel like cooking. “Well, all I can do is tell you what I told Felton Powell yesterday and that detective a week or so ago. It was my busy time of day, and I had a steady stream of customers from the breakfast rush crowd. Avery was trying on the new black-and-white maxi dress.” She pointed to the rack over in the corner. “It was perfect for her. She’s well above average height and the flow fit lovely around her ankles.”

  I nodded and forced my face to show interest.

  She paused, tapping her long, red acrylic fingernail against her front tooth. “It’s probably nothing, but now that I think about it, I overhead Joseph and Felton arguing right outside the diner when you were having your hissy fit.” She clucked her tongue. “Mighty unbecoming, my dear.” Great. Everyone was a critic.

  “It wasn’t my finest hour.”

  She nodded her head in agreement.

  “Did you hear what they were arguing about?”

  “Well, let me think. It was kind of hard to hear over all that commotion.”

  The front door opened and a couple of ladies walked in. They spotted me and paused. For a second, it was obvious they were second-guessing their shopping trip.

  Just terrific. You’d think I have a disease or something.

  Their attitude could certainly bring my discovery efforts to a screeching halt.

  Bonnie moved past me to greet the new arrivals. “Good morning, ladies.” Bonnie had a nervous edge to her tone. “I have a secret sale going on, an additional forty percent off all clearance shoulder bags.”

  Both women perked up at the potential savings. After she directed them to the appropriate section of the store, she scurried back to me.

  “Marygene, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I loved your mama and you girls are dolls, but this is my livelihood here, and you hanging around is only going to be detrimental to my bottom line.” She’d sounded a tad regretful. She huffed. “It was something about Joseph’s son, I think. I only got bits and pieces. I think I heard, ‘no son of mine’ thrown in there.” She practically shoved me toward the door.

  “One more thing.”

  She paused, both hands on the door ready to close it on me.

  “Tally Waters made you an offer that you considered accepting.”

  She was quiet.

  “Why now? You were always in opposition to the previous developers and their proposals.”

  “That’s really none of your business.” She started to close the door.

  I kept my shoulder wedged against it, holding it open. Her expression changed. I couldn’t discern if it was anger or fear.

  “It’s my business and you know it! We stick together on this island. No outside development, ever. You were one of the people that stood shoulder to shoulder with Mama touting proudly that we were a self-sustaining island with our local businesses and no chain establishments.”

  “Things change. Get your foot out of my door before I call the sheriff,” she spat.

  Startled by her venomous reaction, I didn’t protest when she slammed the door.

  Who had gotten to Bonnie? Tally?

  Chapter 14

  Lost in thought, I meandered my way down the street. Mr. Mason stopped me as I passed his market. “You sure would have made your nanny proud at that meeting, little lady. If we all stick together, we can fight this, just like we always have.”

  The corners of my lips turned up in a genuine smile.

  He took my hand. “You and Jena Lynn have all my support. If you need me to set up a donation jar for her, just say the word.”

  The lump in my throat forced me silent. I wasn’t alone. We weren’t alone.

  Mr. Mason was a smallish man, about five foot seven, give or take, with a hefty midsection. What he didn’t have in height, he made up for with heart. Chest hair was always poking up around the collar of his shirt. He reminded me of a cuddly teddy bear.

  “Thank you.” I forced my voice to cooperate. “My sister will be so grateful for your support.” I squeezed his hand before we parted.

  I was stopped three more times by others offering their prayers and support for my sister before I reached Betsy, who was standing in front of the Beauty Spot with Yvonne, who had her little white fur baby Izzy tucked against her chest. Yvonne looked tall, standing nearly a half foot taller than Betsy.

  “You need to talk to Poppy,” Betsy said the second I reached them.

  “Okay. I’ll be in shortly.”

  Betsy nodded and went inside the salon.

  “Hey, don’t you look pretty,” I said as Yvonne embraced me.

  She was blonder than I was today. Her face had a beautiful healthy glow. She’d obviously spent some time on the beach since returning home.

  “Hello, Izzy,” I said in my baby voice as I stroked her little white head.

  Izzy’s tail wagged.

  “You look tired.” Yvonne’s brow crinkled. “I can’t believe all this business with Jena Lynn and the closing of your diner. I was as mad as a hornet when I read this morning’s paper. How are you holding up?”

  I sighed. “My divorce came through.”

  “It’s about time. How did you fare?”

  “Not as well as my attorney had hoped. Truthfully, though, I don’t care. I’m just glad it’s over.”

  “Well then, I’m glad for you.”

  We settled into silence as she stroked Izzy’s head and focused on her car parked at the curb.

  “Well, are you going to tell me about this business with the developers?” It came out more confrontational than I intended. My tone sounded on edge, even to me.

  Yvonne blew out a breath, “Please don’t start. Mama is set on selling. She’s getting up in age, and I’m thinking of moving her into Sunset Hills.” Okay, that made sense.

  I assumed Yvonne would take over the property like I had with my mama’s.

  “Okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “I know.” She waved her hand. “Jeez Louise, my life is running me ragged the last couple of days. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

  “You want to talk about it?”

  A flush crept across her cheeks. “My problems can wait. Please tell me what I can do to help?”

  I hesitated. “Would it be horrible of me to ask to speak with your mama?” Her face altered and I rushed to add, “Not about the development deal.”

  “I don’t know, Marygene. She’s not as strong as she once was, and I don’t want you upsetting her.”

  “I won’t. I just want a few minutes, then I’ll leave it alone.”

  “Fine. But not at the house.” She sighed. “That place is so cluttered it looks like an episode of Hoarders. We can meet for dinner at the Pier Bar and Grill. Say seven?”

  That could work. If I decided to swing by the inn and speak with Calhoun, I could do it after. “Sounds good.” A public setting wasn’t ideal, but I’d take what I could get. “So, we’re okay?”

  Yvonne smiled. “Of course we are. Neither one of us has asked for the position we’ve been forced into.” She put Izzy down by her side and moved the leash to her other hand. “Betsy’s right. You should go talk to Poppy.” Yvonne leaned closer as Izzy sniffed around. “I was having lowlights put in this morning, and she got to talking about the meeting and . . .”

  An older woman passed us on the street.

  “I’ll just let her tell you. See you tonight.” She hugged me and left.

  Poppy was just putting Ms. Maybelle under the dryer when I walked in, and Betsy was spinning around in one of the free chairs.

  “Hey, Marygene!” she gree
ted me. When she noticed her chair spinning, her hands went to her narrow hips, “Betsy! Stop that.” She waved and instructed her young assistant to sweep up the hair around her stylist chair. Poppy was the cheeriest, most easygoing person you ever met. Which was why her behavior at the meeting drew my attention. She was a tiny thing, about five foot nothing with a cute bob. Her hair color was continuously changing. She had funky bronze highlights going on today. Her porcelain skin was flawless. “It’s just me here until noon, so I can’t chat long.”

  She motioned for us to follow her while she unboxed and shelved hair products.

  “Tell her what you told me about Glenda,” Betsy said.

  Poppy put the box cutter on the floor and lifted out two bottles of conditioner. “Well,” she faced me, eyes twinkling, “Glenda was in here yesterday having her roots done. She told me she was over in Savannah visiting her sister, Sally, after that Malcom Investment Corp. made the offer the first time. You know Sally worked for the Ledbetters.”

  “I knew that,” I replied.

  “Right, anyway, Glenda went to the office to pick up Sally for their lunch date, and she overhead Joseph Ledbetter chewing Carl out. You know Mr. Ledbetter didn’t leave the island unless it was absolutely necessary.”

  Everyone knew that.

  “Well, the twins both had a front-row seat right outside his office. He was shouting at Carl, telling him he’d never agree to sell. Glenda said they almost came to blows. Bet you didn’t know that.” Poppy’s lips were peeled back in a grin, exposing her nearly perfect smile. She was tapping her fingernails against the bottle she held in her hand.

  “People confess to you like they would a priest or a bartender,” Betsy said, and Poppy nodded excitedly.

  “I thought Mr. Ledbetter signed the company and land over for Carl to manage years ago.”

  “I wouldn’t know about that. But,” she leaned in as if the information she was giving us was top secret, “Carl fired Sally.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “He gave her some excuse about her being retirement age. Which she was, of course, but Glenda believes it was because of what they witnessed. She had to move back in with her twin.”

  “Did they tell Eddie?” I asked.

  Poppy lifted both hands. “You can ask her. She moved back in with her sister last week. And Glenda said Sally feared Carl.”

  I wondered if Sally would know what Mr. Ledbetter’s chicken scratch meant.

  “Poppy, my scalp is burning,” Ms. Maybelle called.

  We thanked Poppy and left.

  Chapter 15

  Alex was leaning against Betsy’s car when we crossed the street. He was out of uniform, wearing a pair of jeans and an Atlanta Braves T-shirt. “Did y’all see the paper this morning?”

  “Yeah. Marygene got a text from the reporter too.”

  Alex’s demeanor changed from relaxed to inquisitive. I glared at Betsy disapprovingly.

  “Sorry, but maybe he can help,” she whispered defensively.

  Alex didn’t comment on our exchange. His attention darted from Betsy to me. “What did the reporter want?” Alex asked when we reached the Camaro.

  “To explain, I guess,” I said. “Did Eddie find anything out about what I gave him?”

  “He put Felton on it.”

  I frowned. To say I was disappointed in Eddie would have been an understatement. When I handed that piece of evidence over, I assumed he would handle it personally. There was too much at stake. Did he show it to the detective?

  Alex took a step closer to me. He rested both of his hands on my shoulders. I looked up but not that far since he was only four or five inches taller than me. I spied the boy I knew from my childhood, his nose with that little bump that never healed from being broken during a game, his warm, slightly crooked smile. Yes, he still sported his boyish good looks, except for the few new laugh lines. Those, too, were appealing. I was instantly drawn to him, and that alarmed me.

  “We’re all taking this case seriously.” His tone softened.

  Can he tell?

  “We should talk. I thought we could get a cup of coffee or something. Maybe dinner?”

  “W-why dinner? What’s wrong with right now?” I’d stammered. I hated when I stammered.

  His eyes searched my face. “I’ve been concerned about you.”

  A flush crept across my cheeks. “Um, well, um, okay. I . . . uh . . . guess that’ll be okay.” I really needed to get these residual emotional reactions in check.

  His cell chirped, and he dropped his hands. But not before he made a point to convey ocularly that he really wanted to see me later. “I’ll call you.”

  I nodded, and he walked off to take his call.

  After I slid into the passenger seat of the car, Betsy began snickering. “You still have a thing for him.”

  “I do not. He just caught me off guard. I can be civil, for Jena Lynn’s sake. Besides, it would never work between us.”

  “See!” Betsy pointed at me. “You were thinking about it.”

  “Stop acting like a silly schoolgirl and focus on the task at hand,” Mama scolded.

  I screamed.

  “He isn’t right for you, never has been,” Mama said.

  “What?” Betsy shouted and swerved on the road.

  I turned around. Mama was sitting in the backseat.

  “Where were you?” I shouted. Seeing her with that annoyed expression on her face infuriated me further. “You didn’t give me anything I could use to help Jena Lynn.”

  Betsy pulled over to the side of Back Beach Road. “You’re scaring me.”

  “I told you to close the diner. I warned you that your sister would be charged. I informed you that I didn’t have the ability to come back as I pleased, and you’re pitching a hissy fit about something I can’t change?” Mama shrieked.

  “What good are you then?” I threw my hands in the air.

  Betsy’s mouth gaped, her posture rigid. She kept glancing between me and the backseat.

  I sighed, “Mama’s back.”

  Betsy didn’t question me, didn’t shout that I was insane. Instead she whispered, “What’s she saying?” Then Betsy sunk lower in the seat.

  “Tell that ridiculous girl I can both hear and see her,” Mama folded her arms.

  I did.

  “Oh, sweet Jesus.” Betsy covered her face.

  “And tell her that the only thing sage is good for is making cornbread dressing.”

  I relayed that as well.

  “I was thinking about getting and burning sage!” Betsy’s face paled.

  “Enough of this nonsense. Betsy’s meemaw taught her about the island spirits. Tell her to pull herself together.”

  “She says pull yourself together and that you know about the spirits. Is that true?”

  Betsy nodded.

  “Why didn’t you tell me? Oh, never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

  Betsy wiped her face, took a deep breath, and sat up.

  “If she is an island spirit, then that means she’s here to atone.”

  Mama’s face flushed as she shifted uncomfortably in the backseat.

  I motioned with my hands for Betsy to continue.

  “The island spirits are those who have much to atone for before they can cross over. Meemaw has experience.”

  “Can she harm me?” I asked softly.

  “You’re being ridiculous,” Mama said.

  “Said the spirit who must atone for bad deeds,” I retorted. “Well, can she?”

  Betsy was busy staring at her hands, which she was clenching and unclenching.

  “She can’t curse or hurt anyone in any way. She can only do good or she’ll be stuck roaming for all eternity.”

  I turned and made eye contact with Mama.

  “You can also ignore her and she’ll be forced to leave,” Betsy added.

  “So, it’s up to me.” An involuntary smile spread across my face. “I’m in charge.”

  “I’m doing the best I can
. I wasn’t a perfect mother, but I’m here now doing everything in my power to help you girls.” Her lips quivered slightly. She fluffed her hair and sighed, “You’re going to talk to the Porter twins, right?”

  I nodded as her image began to fade.

  “If they’re obstinate, tell Glenda you know about Sally’s, um, procedure.”

  My mouth dropped open. I understood what Mama meant by procedure.

  “She had an ongoing affair with Joseph Ledbetter.” She was gone.

  I told Betsy everything after she got back on the road.

  Glenda and Sally lived in the same house they were born in. A small framed house located in Gulf Port, a county north of the island’s city center. Neither of them had ever married, a rarity on the island. There was always speculation surrounding the upbringing of the eccentric sisters. Some said that they were born prematurely and suffered mentally. Others said that they were both different in the sexual orientation department but, with Mama’s revelation regarding Sally, that didn’t explain it. Maybe they just never wanted to marry. With my experience with marriage, I commended them. Their lives were their own to live as they saw fit, and I certainly didn’t want to bring up what Mama suggested. I wasn’t cruel like she was.

  Sally had worked for the Ledbetters for years. Years ago, when Carl moved the main office to Savannah, she went too. Glenda stayed behind.

  The small house was in immaculate condition. The screened-in front porch, I suspected, was the only addition to the property. The banana and lemon trees were laden with fruit. I really wanted those lemons. They were screaming to be made into lemon bars, shortbread, and coffee cake. Such a comfort.

  I inhaled the citrus aroma as I passed by the tree on my way to the front porch, where the two sisters were in rocking chairs. A table stood between them that held a pitcher of iced tea and two glasses. A paper towel was wrapped around each glass to catch the condensation.

  “Hello, ladies.” I waved. “I hope we aren’t disturbing you.”

  “Afternoon, girls,” the twins said in unison. Their usual poufy reddish-brown hair was flat today. The humidity was high. My own hair was a frizzy mess. Both women were made up in their Mary Kay makeup. Some of it had settled within the deep creases in their forehead and laugh lines. Age had dulled their sky blue orbs. They were both wearing a version of the same housedress. Glenda in a pale pink and Sally in a pale blue. I wondered if they used the giant pockets in the front of the dress. Neither of them seemed put out that we came by without calling.