Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, There's A Body In The Car (Callie Parrish Mysteries)

by Fran Rizer

"I know it must be very hard for you." I thought about the shrink’s question. How does that make you feel, but it didn’t seem appropriate or necessary. She told me anyway.

  "One of the most difficult parts is learning that Harry deserted his wife and three kids. Guess that explains why he never agreed to get married. Not that we could since he didn’t have any real ID. I used to feel guilty that we met too late to have children. He liked to go to the park and watch the little ones play. I don’t mean that in a dirty way, like a pedophile or something like that. I mean he seemed to really enjoy kids in a good way. Then to find out that he abandoned his own children and left them penniless when he had all that money to spend and live the rich life."

  "I understand," I said. I hadn’t expected her to pour out her feelings like that, and I couldn’t think of anything to say. I mean what was I supposed to tell her? She had wanted him to make their union legal. I didn’t believe I should inform her that I found it surprising that a man who’d rob an armored car would be too good to commit bigamy.

  Her expression suddenly became extremely sad. "I even told the sheriff that if he’d make the arrangements, I’d like to send some money to Harry’s wife and children."

  That was an interesting thought. "What did he say?" I asked.

  "He said that the money came from the robbery and wouldn’t be mine to give away." She sniffled and touched her nose with a tissue from the box on the console. "Are you married?"

  "No, ma’am. Divorced."

  "I really enjoyed those years with Harry, but I always assumed that if something happened to him, I’d be left with enough to live on. Now it seems I won’t be, and I’m not a spring chicken anymore. It might be difficult to find another wealthy man to take care of me."

  I couldn’t think of a thing to say. I couldn’t say, "Oh, you’ll be okay against the twenty-year olds," because we both knew better. Perhaps some other wealthy golfer would woo her into marriage before he found out she was broke. If not, I supposed she’d have to go back to serving crab cakes and cocktails.

  Mrs. Joyner ignored my silence and smiled, "I’d almost forgotten. Sheriff Harmon told me about your father and brother being hospitalized. I’m so glad they’re doing better."

  "Thank you. We were right worried for a while."

  "Did the sheriff tell you about the dead man you found being my Harry’s partner when the robbery took place?"

  "Yes, ma’am."

  "And they were both poisoned, though he hasn’t told me what kind yet." She paused and looked at me, obviously expecting an answer.

  "I don’t think the toxicology reports have identified what poison killed either of them nor what kind made my brother so sick." I was supposed to be trying to get information from Mrs. Joyner, but I felt like she was interrogating me.

  When we pulled through the gates into Taylor’s Cemetery, I was surprised to see Middleton’s awnings over a recent grave across from where the awnings and chairs were set up for the Joyner interment. I couldn’t swear they were the same people, but the vehicles and number of men and women standing around Mr. Joyner’s resting place seemed about the same as when we’d planted the tree.

  The late heat wave had let up just a little, and the air felt crisply autumn. The wooded area that surrounded the sides and back of the cemetery had begun to shift from green to crimsons and golds. The crape myrtle we’d planted at Mr. Joyner’s first funeral had no blossoms and the limbs, though not bare, had far fewer leaves.

  Mrs. Joyner parked in the same place she had before, and we got out and headed for the gravesite. Odell was standing at the head of the basket casket, which was topped with a spray of wild flowers tied with raffia.

  As before, there wasn’t a pastor there. Mrs. Joyner stood up and welcomed "friends." She didn’t mention "family," probably because the Hilton Head Mr. Joyner had no family. I doubted she’d thought to invite the Johnson family from New Jersey.

  After the service was over and everyone had spoken to Mrs. Joyner, she thanked Odell for all Middleton’s had done.

  "I appreciate your getting the special casket and working with me on all of this," she said. "Now I want to ask one more favor. My friends want me to head back to Hilton Head and have lunch with them. Would it be all right for Callie to ride back to St. Mary with you?"

  "Certainly, Mrs. Joyner. We’ll be in touch when the death certificates come. We ordered you three copies. Thank you for letting us serve you in your time of grief."

  As Mrs. Joyner and her friends drove out of the cemetery, I thought, "There go the green people." That brought up an image of squat little people with big green heads, like the space aliens in those papers by the grocery store check outs. I giggled.

  "What’s funny?" Odell asked. He was watching the workers lower the casket and fill in the grave. It seemed strange to watch dirt fall directly onto the coffin instead of a vault or grave liner. I thought I saw the top dip in a little as the dirt hit it, but that was probably my imagination.

  "Just a funny thought," I answered Odell. I pointed to the Middleton’s awning across the area. "Who’s that?" I asked.

  "Evan Taylor. You were off when we buried him. Actually, this place started out as the Taylor family graveyard, but when times got hard, they expanded and began selling plots. Evan’s buried in one of the original family plots. I think he’s a cousin of some kind. Bet you’re glad you didn’t get stuck with sitting up all night at that wake his wife had for him. Jake said it was one long bout of drinking and eating and crying. Said that trailer was packed with people."

  "I’d just as soon not have been there for that. Did he tell you that’s the third husband she’s held a wake for in that mobile home?"

  Odell guffawed. "Yep, heard about that, too."

  The men were disassembling the awning and packing the chairs into their van. "Let’s go," Odell said and followed me to his Buick.

  I’d waited as long as I could. "Odell," I said, "did you go along with Otis on letting Darlene take over my job?" I didn’t even wait for an answer before adding another question. "And am I fired? Is she going to cosmetize as well as answer the phone and keep up with the obituaries and online information?"

  "What do you mean? Darlene just came in to be with Otis on his first day back."

  "It doesn’t look like that. She’s cleaned out my desk and packed my belongings in a box that she told me to put in my car."

  "What in tarnation is Doofus doing now? Surely he’s not going to marry her again."

  "He didn’t say anything about a wedding. He just said for me to be patient."

  "Don’t worry about it until I talk to Doofus. Like he said, ‘Be patient.’ You know patience is a virtue."

  "Well, sometimes I feel like I’ve been too danged virtuous too danged long."

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  "I need some barbecue," Odell said when he pulled up in front of the funeral home to let me out. We’d both been mostly silent on the way from Taylor’s to St. Mary. The only sound had been an occasional growl from Odell’s stomach and at least one rumble from mine. It was after lunch time for us.

  Since my boss put me out at the front instead of the employee entrance, I was welcomed by "Amazing Grace." Darlene came rushing to the foyer.

  "Sheriff Harmon wants you to call him," she told me. I kinda felt important, like she was my secretary, until she added, "and from now on, you need to check with me when you leave and let me know when you return." So much for Darlene being my secretary. Now she thought she was my boss! Then again, she acted like I was going to be around, so maybe she wasn’t planning to push the Middletons to fire me after all.

  I called Harmon’s office expecting to be told he’d call me back, but he was on the line in a less than a minute.

  "Hi Callie, have you had lunch? I’ll treat you at Gastric Gullah if you’ll meet me over there."

  "How soon? I’m starving."

  "Head there now."

  "Sure." Any other time, I’d have had to ask Otis and Odell if this would
be a good time for me to go to lunch, but I figured since Darlene was doing my job, I was free to take lunch whenever I pleased.

  We were late enough that Rizzie’s lunch crowd had thinned down. Wayne and I chose the booth in the back corner. I assumed he wanted to quiz me about any information Mrs. Joyner might have given me earlier.

  "Seat yourselves," Rizzie called when she saw us. "House special today is pork cooked with red rice and there’s two servings left. Y’all want that or shall I bring menus?"

  "You can dip mine up right now and bring an iced tea with it," Sheriff Harmon said.

  "Me, too," I called.

  Harmon didn’t wait long to ask, "Did Mrs. Joyner tell you anything new?"

  "Not really, but you’ve upset her."

  "How? I thought letting her bury her husband would make her happy. She sure bugged me enough about getting the body released."

  Rizzie set the plates and tea in front of us.

  "But you told her she can’t keep the money. Now she’s worried she won’t find another rich husband. She’d planned on Joyner’s money lasting the rest of her life."

  I took a big bite of red rice. Best I’d ever tasted.

  "Unfortunately, Mr. Joyner’s money was actually Johnny Johnson’s illegal gains. Mrs. Joyner swears he never revealed where he kept his money. She only had access to funds he put in a home safe for her use. He was generous, but he kept the big money somewhere she didn’t know about."

  "Do you have any new leads?"

  The sheriff put his fork on the side of his plate and drank about half his glass of tea in one long gulp. "That meat’s mighty succulent, but it’s a bit hot for me."

  I sliced off a bite of pork and tasted it. Tender, juicy, and hot. I finished off my tea and waved to Rizzie for more.

  "No new leads, but I have several theories," the sheriff said. Rizzie refilled our glasses. Wayne and I both emptied them. She filled them again.

  "Is that pork too high seasoned for you?" Rizzie asked.

  "It’s a bit hot," Sheriff Harmon said.

  "Maum cooked it, and she seasons more than I do. If you don’t like it, you can order something else, but it will hurt her feelings."

  "Where is she?" I asked.

  "She came in with me this morning," Rizzie said. "Since she began leaving the island, she likes to cook here. She’s been hoping you’d be by today, so she can ask you about doing her nails sometime soon."

  Maum is Rizzie’s grandmother. She’s an ancient Gullah woman who loves to have her fingernails painted bright red. I go out to Surcie Island, where she lives, and give her manicures and pedicures. I was a few weeks overdue.

  "Is she still here?"

  "In the kitchen. She doesn’t like coming out to the dining area, but she loves that kitchen. Step on back and speak to her if you want."

  I’d never been beyond the dining area, and I guess it looked like any other small restaurant’s work place. Maum was scrubbing the range top though it looked immaculate to me. She grinned and gave me a gigantic hug for such a tiny lady.

  "Oh, Callie. It’s so good to see you." She held up her hands in front of me, then realized she was wearing yellow rubber gloves. When she tossed them on the counter, I saw her chipped nail polish.

  "Well, you’ll be seeing me soon, unless you want to hang around the restaurant when you get finished. I can come back and do your nails then."

  "That would be wonderful. I’ve gotten used to seeing them lookin’ pretty. I plumb hate to go to church when they look like this."

  "Ask Rizzie to call me when you’re off work," I said, gave her another hug, and went back to Sheriff Harmon.

  "Sorry about that," I said to him. "Rizzie’s Maum is a very special lady."

  "That’s understandable. While you were gone, I ordered two pieces of sweet potato pie."

  "Sounds like a plan."

  "The feds are investigating the heist and, of course, these two murders are related, but I’m still keeping a hand in the homicides. I’ve considered that Johnny Johnson may have either killed or paid someone to get rid of Leon McDonald. Then, if he was able to take over all the money and confessed it to his wife, Mrs. Joyner may have done him in and expected to walk away with what’s left of the robbery take."

  "If you can believe that, then why couldn’t Mrs. Joyner have known about it all along? Maybe she and Harry were having problems. She thought he would dump her, and she poisoned both of them. After all, from what I’ve read, poison is usually a female method of murder."

  "That’s definitely a possibility."

  Rizzie set two large pieces of pie on the table. The sheriff pulled his over and forked himself a huge bite. He moaned with pleasure, then looked embarrassed.

  "Next time we come here," he said, "I’m skipping the entrée and just ordering a whole pie."

  "That might ruin that trim waistline," I quipped.

  The sheriff rubbed his washboard abs. "It would be worth it. Wish I could find me a woman who cooks pie like this."

  "Rizzie is a woman who cooks pie like that."

  "She’s too young for me."

  "Her grandmother’s in the kitchen," I teased.

  As Harmon paid our bill, Rizzie told me, "Maum’s finished. She said tell you she’ll wait in the kitchen until you’re through work. Tyrone is picking her up when I call him. She said be sure you understand she doesn’t mind waiting for you.

  "I’ll try to be back soon. If I had the supplies in my car, I’d do her nails right now." I didn’t say a word to Sheriff Harmon about Tyrone. I know for a fact that Rizzie’s brother isn’t old enough to have a driver’s license.

  In the Mustang, on the way back to the mortuary, I hoped we didn’t have any new decedents. I claim that I neither give nor take guilt trips, but I was ashamed that I’d neglected Maum so long. When I’d first begun going to her house on Surcie Island to do her nails, I’d been very faithful about never letting the polish look ragged. I’d enjoyed my time with her, listened with pleasure to tales of her early years. Then I’d gotten busy and postponed a few times. It had been like going to church. If I miss a few weeks, it becomes harder and harder to make it there on the Sunday mornings I’m not working. Each time, I think, "Well, I’ll go next week."

  Odell met me at the employee entrance. "I’ve been watching for you. We need to talk," he said.

  My stomach flipped around the sweet potato pie I’d eaten. Had he discussed me with Otis? Were they going to let me go?

  "Here?" I asked.

  "No, in my office." I followed him. He shut the door and gestured for me to sit down.

  "I’ve got some good news and some bad news," Odell grumbled.

  Dalmation! Was the good news that I could draw unemployment after the bad news dismissal?

  "You know, Otis was really sick," he said.

  "Yes."

  "He’s got some crazy idea that he needs Darlene to take care of him."

  "Maybe he’s been lonely. He doesn’t go out as often as you do. He leads a pretty solitary life. Since he bought his own tanning bed, he doesn’t even go to the sun parlor."

  "Stop defending him. If he’s lonely, he should ask some woman out for a date. Lord knows we meet enough nice widows through the business." Odell harrumphed, which he does anytime he’s irritated. "Anyway, the bad news is that until Otis is over his delusion, Darlene has taken over your office. She also wants to cosmetize, which she did occasionally while she and Doofus were married. This doesn’t leave a lot for you to do except computer work, and she wants you to teach her how to do that."

  My back hackled. "Are you telling me to teach Darlene to do the computer so she can take my job?"

  "No, I’m telling you the same thing Otis told you. Be patient. I think he just said that to pacify you. I’m saying it to let you know that you’re not being fired. Otis and Darlene fought all the time when they were married. It won’t take long for one of them to get angry enough to put an end to this, and things will go right back to normal."

&nbs
p; I cannot tell a lie. Well, I can, but I didn’t then. "This is all pretty disturbing to me. If we don’t have any new clients, I’d like to take the afternoon off."

  "That’s fair, but I don’t want you getting upset and looking for another job. You’re the best cosmetician we’ve ever had." I beamed. Compliments don’t come freely from Odell.

  "Then could you maybe rearrange the schedule so that I’m off this Sunday?" In for a penny, in for a pound. All those thoughts about church made me think maybe I should try to attend worship services more often. I’d been trying to defend myself by saying I heard enough from preachers at funeral services, but Daddy was right when he told me that was just a cop-out.

  I stopped by my work room, changed out of my black dress and into the jeans, tee, and tennis shoes I keep in my locker. I grabbed the manicure case. Technically, it belongs to Middleton’s, but I frequently pick up polishes out of my own pocket when I see shades I like on sale. This time I’d let Maum choose from the many colors instead of just carrying red with me like I usually did. If Darlene needed the kit before I got back, it was just TS, which in kindergarten cussing means something bad, or tough stinky.

  Surprise, surprise! Maum chose the brightest red nail polish in the collection. I’d finished her fingernails and was in the kitchen with her bare left foot propped in my lap while I worked on her calluses. Rizzie came barreling through the swinging doors announcing, "Callie, somebody wants to see you." Cousin Chuck was right behind her.

  Maum jerked her foot from me and scrambled for her socks. "Rizzie, don’t you let a man in here when I’m not fully dressed." I didn’t know the little old lady could move so fast. She had her shoes on and laced up in a flash.

  "Ma’am, I’m terribly sorry to distress you," Chuck said. "Would you like for me to wait outside until you’re finished tying those?"

  "Don’t be a nincompoop!" Maum snapped. "You’d think my granddaughter would have checked before she brought a man in here, but I’m covered now."

  Rizzie and Chuck smiled indulgently, but I knew how Maum felt. I used to think the same thing when I was a little girl and my brothers brought friends into the house unannounced.