by Tonya Kappes
This was the type of room I dreamed of. And the closet was just as large as the room. There was a fancy shoe rack in the middle with an electric spinner so Beulah didn’t have to walk far or reach up to get the pair she wanted. Her clothes were arranged in color coordination. Attached to each outfit was a small velvet pouch with jewelry to go with it.
Damn, it must be nice to be rich. I walked out, through the room to the other side, and stepped through the other door.
“Oh my God.” I walked into the room and sat my flute on the counter of the bathroom sink.
Beulah’s bathroom had to be fancier than the Queen of England’s. Her drapes were adorned with tassels and the shiniest silk. Since taking over the funeral home, I knew how much nice drapes cost, and these were not cheap.
The marble tub sat on gold clawed feet. One of those fancy rainfall heads dangled down from the ceiling, and every showerhead was angled to not leave one body part with a speck of dirt. The marble counter was full of all sorts of beauty products. She had at least one hundred different bottles of perfume, ranging from Christian Dior to Chanel. The bottle stared at me, begging me to get a little squirt. Just a little tiny spray wouldn’t hurt.
I admitted to perfume envy, since I was used to the death smell. And let’s just say the death smell was real and was a far cry from Chanel. I couldn’t help myself. I picked up the bottle and did a little dab behind my ears and on my wrists before returning it to its original spot.
“Oh,” I picked up the moisturizer. She had at least ten bottles of the same one.
When I opened it, I noticed it had the same peach smell that had caught me off guard the night I had come by to see her . . . or rather, be nosy. It had to be the same stuff.
I stuck my finger in and rubbed a sample on the back of my hand. I lifted it to my nose and took a deep breath. The spot I rubbed it on looked moist and shiny.
“Is there something I can help you with?” Dixie Dunn stood behind me.
“I’ve got to poop.” I held my hand to my stomach. “I didn’t want to stink up the guest bathroom, and I knew Beulah wouldn’t mind if I used her bathroom.”
“Actually,” Dixie Dunn plucked the moisturizer jar from me and put it back. “She does mind if you are anywhere in her home. She asked me to keep an eye on you, and I see she was right.”
“I beg your pardon?” I pulled back like she had gotten it all wrong. Again, I didn’t have a good poker face. “The nerve. After I pooped, I was washing my hands and saw all this moisturizer. I couldn’t help but notice how good her skin looked at church this morning, and I wondered if this is what she’s using.”
“Yes. She loves this moisturizer. I actually make it from herbs and natural ingredients.” Dixie’s face lit up. Her eyes brightened. “It was my momma’s secret cream.”
“No! Don’t be going around giving everyone your special cream!” Mamie Sue appeared and stuck her cane in Dixie’s face.
“Tell me about it,” I encouraged Dixie.
By the way Mamie Sue acted, maybe I was on to something.
“It’s been in my family for years, like the chess pie I made the other day for Junior Mullins’s repast.” She opened a jar and took a swipe with her finger. She grabbed my arm and used both her hands to rub it in.
“That was my recipe,” Mamie Sue muttered, and I realized it really wasn’t.
“I’ve been making it on the side and selling it at different little boutiques in Lexington. It’s a big seller.” She stopped rubbing, keeping her hands on me. She looked me in the eyes. “Do you really see a difference in Beulah’s appearance?”
“I do,” I admitted. “How much does this cost?”
I was game for a jar. If it opened up a line of communication with Dixie.
“I’ll give you a jar.” She picked up one of Beulah’s. “Take one of hers. She’ll never know, and I’ll just replace it. If you like it, tell all your friends, or even clients at the funeral home.”
“My clients are dead,” I reminded her. “But I can mention it to families.”
“That would be wonderful. I’d love to grow the distribution and become larger than those fancy moisturizers, which are mostly water and not ingredients.” She picked up another brand of moisturizer in a much fancier bottle than hers. “This stuff is crap.” She put it back and rubbed her finger and thumb together. “Unfortunately, I need the cash to run with the big dogs.”
“Really? How much?” I asked.
“A lot. More than a couple million to do it right. I guess I have to clean a lot more houses.” She sighed. “We better get back before Beulah has my hide and yours.”
Millions? I looked at the jar she’d given me. I had her motive for killing Mamie Sue. Now I needed the weapon. You mean kill a lot more people? I thought but kept my mouth shut.
Beulah had already scouted the house for us and found us coming down the large staircase.
“I told you she’d be all over this house.” Hate dripped out of Beulah’s mouth.
“No, ma’am, she has a bad case of the diarrhea.” Dixie kept my lie. “And I told her she could use the upstairs guest bathroom.”
I pinched my nose and fanned my other hand in front of my face.
“I wouldn’t go up there if I were you.” I doubled over like I was really sick.
“You need to leave if you are sick. I won’t have the women get sick from your germs and blame my party for it.” She stuck her arm out for me to go out the front door. “And why do you have a jar of my moisturizer in your hand?”
“Oh, it’s not yours.” Dixie Dunn came to my defense again. “I noticed she’s got some premature wrinkles and told her about my cream. She bought a bottle.”
“You are working for me right now. Not selling shit.” Beulah’s teeth gritted. “Get back to work. It was nice seeing you, Emma Lee.”
She walked down the stairs and opened the front door. It was her polite way of throwing me out.
“There you are.” Tinsie came into the room with a tray of small cocktail glasses filled with something really refreshing. She handed the tray to Beulah. “I need to get your number,” she said to me.
“Are you kidding me?” Beulah’s face contorted. It was apparent she was beneath holding a tray of food for her own party.
“I’m so sorry,” Dixie profusely apologized for Tinsie’s actions. “She’s young and learning. It won’t happen again.”
Dixie took the tray from Beulah.
“You’re damn right it won’t. Send her home and don’t let her step toe on my property again.” Beulah took a quick turn and stormed out of the entryway.
“Get the number and go,” Dixie instructed Tinsie.
I rattled off my number and Eternal Slumber’s number before I left.
Chapter 19
It was a happy sight to see Jack Henry’s cruiser still in the driveway of the funeral home when I got home.
I was hoping to get a little time with Mamie to ask her about Dixie Dunn’s capital adventure in the beauty product department, but she didn’t show herself, and neither did Junior. I wondered where they were and what they did when they weren’t with me.
“You are home early.” Jack Henry was laid out on the couch, remote in hand. He glanced at his watch. “I’m guessing it wasn’t the beer-drinking kind of party, because you weren’t gone long.”
“No.” I plopped down in the chair beside the couch. “But I did score some moisturizer.”
“Moisturizer?” He shook his head.
“Yes. And I think I got my motive for Dixie Dunn to kill Mamie Sue Preston.” I was pretty pleased with myself.
“There is no way on this earth Dixie killed me. No way.” Mamie sat on the couch next to Jack Henry.
I glared at her. She was looking at him.
“What?” Jack Henry sat up. “Is one of them here?”
&nb
sp; “Yes.” I let out a heavy sigh. “Mamie, and she claims Dixie didn’t kill her. But evidence is stacking up.”
“Like what?” they both asked at the same time.
“Dixie Dunn was your maid and she needed the cash to make the beauty line; you left her the cash as the beneficiary of your estate.” My brows lifted.
“She’s been with me for years. I made her beneficiary a long time ago. She would’ve killed me then,” Mamie said.
“Oh.” I wasn’t sure how to respond. She was right. What was Dixie’s reason for waiting? “Maybe she waited until you were older and no one would suspect you got killed. Died of natural causes.”
“Are you talking to her?” Jack Henry asked. “Because if you are, I’m going to finish watching the game.” He used the remote to turn up the volume.
“Don’t you care about this?” I asked him.
“Yes. I do. But she was buried with Burns. It’s going to take an act of Congress to get Emmitt Moss to sign a release so I can get her body up and take a look at bones and dust.” He shook his head.
“So you are just going to let my killer go unknown and leave me in the Between world?” Mamie cried out.
“No,” I grumbled. “I’ll find out who killed her.”
“No, you won’t.” Jack Henry didn’t bother looking at me. He kept his eyes on the TV. “It’s not like there is some sort of serial killer out there.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Yeah. Are you sure, you little whippersnapper?” Mamie Sue wasn’t happy with Jack Henry’s performance as sheriff.
“Yes, Emma Lee. There are no serial killers in Sleepy Hollow,” Jack Henry laughed.
Just then, a dispatch came across his police radio, which was attached to his uniform still balled up on my bedroom floor.
He rushed in the bedroom and came out fully dressed.
“Where are you going?” I asked. “I thought you were spending the night?”
“I’ll be back.” He kissed me on the forehead. “I’m heading over to Triple Thorn subdivision. It looks like Beulah Paige passed out during the Auxiliary meeting and is on life support.”
My throat tightened. My chest hurt. Suddenly I became dizzy. I leaned up against the wall and only heard Jack Henry slam the door behind him.
I slid down the wall. My knees bent in the air, my hands flung out on either side, I couldn’t move.
“Maybe now he will believe there is a serial killer around Sleepy Hollow.” Mamie knelt down beside me. Her eyes were more hollow than I remembered them.
After I gathered my wits about me, I fixed myself a cup of coffee and waited for Jack Henry to come back. It seemed like forever, but in actuality it was only a couple of hours and rounding midnight before I heard his car pull up.
I greeted him at the door.
“I don’t know what happened to her.” He took his hat and rubbed his hand on the top of his head.
“Is she . . .” I hesitated to use the word dead.
“No, she’s not dead.” He paused. “Yet.”
My stomach fell to my feet. “What happened?”
“After you left, I guess she was so worked up about you going into her room and taking a poop, she might’ve had a slight heart attack or something.” He shrugged past me. “She complained of chest pains, a headache, and the next thing they knew. Wham!” He smacked his hands together. “She was on the ground.”
“Oh my God.” I took Jack Henry by the hand. “That is awful. I didn’t do anything to put her one foot in the grave.”
“When I took some statements, the maid—your killer . . .” He fumbled for her name, finally taking the notebook out of his pocket. He flipped it open and read, “Dunn, Dixie Dunn. According to Dixie, she was mad about you using the bathroom upstairs and how you were spreading your virus all over the place. Not to mention some face cream.”
He put his hand on my head.
“I’m lovesick, nothing real sick. I told her that.” I jerked my head away from his hand.
“So you were snooping around and she caught you.” He had it all figured out. I nodded. “Then you started to mess around in her bathroom at all the pretties.” I nodded, he continued. “Then you wanted to try the cream and did.”
“Yes, but I didn’t take any. I told you Dixie Dunn made the moisturizer and gave me a jar. She said she needed money to make a go of it. Millions.”
Millions.
“Are you sure this Dixie Dunn gave you the cream, because I don’t want Beulah Paige Bellefry coming back from this coma and accusing you of putting her there by stealing.” He looked at me.
“Yes. Dixie Dunn gave me the jar.” I pointed to the jar sitting on the table next to the couch. “There it is.”
“But you did play pretty in her bathroom while pretending to be sick?” he asked.
“How do you figure all this stuff out?” I found it eerie.
“Because you smell delicious and I know that’s not your original scent of Eau de Toilette of Death.” He pulled me tight and gave me a big, long kiss to start off the rest of our night.
Chapter 20
Istaggered out of bed to answer the phone Jack Henry had stuck on the dresser before he made his way to bed last night.
“Granny?” I answered frantically. My heartbeat rang out loud and clear in my ears. “What’s wrong?”
Granny was an early riser, not an early caller.
“You have got to get over here right away,” she cried out, a sudden fury in her voice. “Someone is trying to frame me.”
“Frame you?” I eased back on the bed, trying to steady my pounding heart from her scaring me half to death.
Images of Beulah Paige danced in my head. Was someone figuring out I was snooping around and going after all my people? Not that Beulah Paige was one of my closest friends, but we did run in the same Sleepy Hollow circle.
Jack Henry propped himself up on his elbows. Even his short, high-and-tight haircut was mussed up. He rubbed his eyes.
“Yes. Get over here.” Granny hung up.
“I guess I need to run over to the Inn.” I looked over at Jack Henry, who had fallen right back to sleep.
I didn’t bother waking him up. If I needed him, I knew where to find him. I slipped on my Kentucky sweatshirt and khaki shorts before I darted out the door.
There wasn’t time to drive over, so I hightailed it as fast as a jackrabbit across the square.
“Whoa! What’s the hurry?” Junior Mullins glided along next to me, smoke trailing behind.
“I’m not sure. Something’s wrong with Granny,” I said, not caring a bit in the world who saw me talking to him.
“Like what?” he asked.
“She said someone’s framing her.” I jutted up the steps of the Inn, letting the screen door smack behind me.
“I didn’t say murdering me or breaking in.” Granny was in full regalia. Her hair was nicely styled, and she wore a pair of cropped jeans and a blue cardigan with a simple necklace that had a Z charm dangling from it.
She stood in the powder room off the hallway of the Inn, slathering white stuff all over her face.
“What is that?” I asked.
“New moisturizer from Beulah’s maid.” Granny must’ve thought the more the better. It was thick like plaster and if she smiled, her face might crack. “I guess you heard about Beulah. Damn shame I had to cook dinner last night for the Inn guests and not be there on time to see them cart off Beulah in the ambulance. But I did get there in time for the maid to sell everyone a jar of her fabulous cream.”
I watched Granny rub the cement down her neck.
“I heard you put her into a frenzy when you had your bout of diarrhea.” Granny’s brows cocked. Too bad the paste didn’t cover them. “Diarrhea? You were looking for something. I know you, Emma Lee.”
“Granny, don’t let your imagination run wild.” I shook my head and stepped out of the door of the bathroom to make room for her. “What is this nonsense about being framed?”
I followed her into the kitchen. There was flour all over the floor, sugar spread all over the counter, and honey dripping down the lower cabinets.
“What happened?” I stayed at the door and looked in.
“That is what happened.” Granny pointed to an overturned round bronze plate on the kitchen floor.
I bent down to take a look.
“Is there some sort of animal under it, because this place is a mess.” I started to flip it over.
“Don’t touch it!” Granny stopped me. “We need fingerprints.”
“Fingerprints?” I bent down a little more. There were some words stamped in gold on the bottom. “Sleepy Hollow Baptist Church?”
I glanced back at Granny. Her eyes held a fear in them.
“Now.” She took a gulp. “I’ve done a lot of underhanded, sneaky things in my life. But being a thief and stealing from God has never crossed my mind.”
“The money?” I gasped. “Is that the collection from yesterday’s service that went missing?”
“I swear, Emma Lee.” Granny walked over and showed me what she had done. “I was happily making my biscuits and sausage gravy.” Her brows lifted, cracking the plaster on her forehead. “My secret ingredient is honey. So I went to the cabinet and opened it to grab the honey.”
She went through the motions. I eyed her Bible sitting on the kitchen table. The more she talked, the more I wanted to get my hands on the picture of her, Mamie Sue and Pastor Brown.
“When I opened the cabinet, the honey was open and sitting in that plate.” She jabbed her finger down toward the collection plate. “I just couldn’t believe my eyes. I took the plate down, and when I looked down into it and saw all the money, I dropped it and called you.”