Saints & Sinners Ball

by Stacy M Jones

  Harper opened her mouth to speak, but she didn’t have a retort.

  Jackson slid a finger under her chin and closed her mouth. He looked her right in the eyes. “I’m teasing you. Settle down.” He grabbed her hand. “Come on, let’s go mingle and meet some people. I heard everyone that’s anyone will be here.”

  The pair spent the next couple hours meeting new people who welcomed them both to the city. Neither ate much and both sipped their drinks. The music was lively, the conversation was inviting, and Harper was starting to feel a bit at ease.

  Chapter Six

  “Hattie, you look lovely,” Tucker Reese swooned as he pulled her into an embrace. He had on an ill-fitted suit and a black mask with tacky red beading.

  She batted his fat hands away and moved them off her hips. “You old coot. Don’t grope me. Where’s your wife?” Hattie turned and looked around the tent searching for his wife, who wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

  Tucker knocked back his martini in one gulp and placed his glass on the tray of the server as they passed. “Lizzie wasn’t feeling well tonight so she stayed home. I’m all on my own. Figured you’d keep me company.” He reached his hands back to Hattie’s middle, and she checked him with her hip. It nearly knocked him over. Tucker was clearly drunk.

  Tucker was sixty-five, fat and bald. The sunspots on his hands and face hinted at far more time on the golf course than in a courtroom. He was the elected prosecuting attorney in Little Rock and ran the Pulaski County Prosecutor’s office. His underlings did most of the work while he took the public credit. He was also a known womanizer, although Hattie wasn’t sure what woman would be desperate enough.

  “I thought I’d stop by your shop one of these days. I think my wife needs a little love potion, if you know what I mean.” He laughed at his own innuendo while Hattie grimaced.

  “Tell her to stop by herself, I’d be happy to help her,” Hattie said. What she meant was she’d be happy to give Lizzie the spell to stop his philandering or one to give her the courage to leave him. She’d like to give Tucker a potion to make it shrivel and fall off, but she couldn’t have that kind of karma on her soul, as satisfying as it would be.

  “The mayor here yet?” Tucker asked. “We went duck hunting, and he owes me some money.”

  “Over there,” Hattie pointed in the hopes he’d leave her side.

  “Save me a dance,” he slurred as he leaned in to kiss her.

  She dodged out of his way and ground the heel of her shoe into the top of his foot as she moved past him. He yelped in pain. Hattie placed a hand on his arm and smiled sympathetically. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Tucker. I don’t wear heels often, I got all tripped up.”

  That will teach him, Hattie thought as she moved farther into the tent, regaining her composure and making small talk with each of her guests. The tent was ablaze with white twinkle lights and candles on each table. The Mardi Gras decorations were tasteful and vibrant. The jazz band was playing, food was being served, and drinks were flowing. All seemed to be running smoothly.

  Hattie kept an eye out for Harper and Jackson. The two seemed to be enjoying their time together. They both periodically checked in with the catering staff and gave Hattie a quick nod that all was okay. Then they would go back to laughing with each other and meeting the array of Little Rock society out for the evening.

  Hattie mingled with the ladies from the Junior League and the Little Rock Garden Club. The Garden Club was responsible for the gigantic bronze bunny statue on Kavanaugh. It was right down from Hattie’s shop. The jury was still out for Hattie on how she felt about it. She loved how whimsical it was, but if she looked too closely, there was something creepy in its eyes.

  Hattie continued her rounds. She air-kissed cheeks, told ladies they looked lovely and made the appropriate small talk. She may be the city’s resident witch, but she was still raised a New York society girl.

  “Dan Barnes!” Hattie called out when she caught sight of him. Dan had been the editor-in-chief with the Little Rock Record but was now the editor-in-chief of Rock City Life, a monthly magazine and digital daily that covered food, culture, parties, people and more. Pretty much everything Little Rock high society had to offer. If you were fortunate enough to grace their pages, you were the “in” crowd.

  Dan was one of Hattie’s favorite people in Little Rock. He was no-nonsense and a good egg. If it didn’t work out with Jackson, Dan was definitely a consideration for Harper. He was handsome, had a mess of dark hair and a sweet lopsided smile. He was far too married to his work though. He left the paper for work-life balance he claimed, but Dan worked just as hard at Rock City Life. He just got to eat good food and drink on the job now.

  “Hattie, you weren’t supposed to recognize me wearing my mask,” Dan teased. He struck a pose with his hands on his hips and face turned to the sky. He laughed at himself before turning and giving Hattie a hug.

  “You look handsome. Where’s your date for the ball?”

  “No date. No one loves me,” he joked. Looking around, Dan added, “This is a great party. There’s going to be awesome photos for the magazine next month. Before the night ends, make sure we get one of you.”

  “We can include my niece, Harper, too. Did I tell you she just moved here?” Hattie asked, looking around for Harper. When she couldn’t spot her, she turned back to Dan. “You should connect with her. Harper was editor-in-chief of our family’s lifestyle magazine Charlotte in New York. She’d be a great freelancer for you.”

  “I’m always looking for talent,” Dan admitted. “I’m familiar with Charlotte. Who isn’t? I don’t like admitting it, but I could use some help with the direction of the magazine. I’m sure Harper’s a wealth of information. I’d be happy to connect with her. Is she here now?”

  “She was here with my neighbor Jackson, but I don’t see either of them. Let me walk around and see if I can find her.”

  Hattie headed off towards the house, making her way across the dance floor. She stopped to speak to a few people she knew. Then she ran into a couple of her favorite clients. Nearly forty minutes later, Hattie was wrapping up a discussion about the benefits of valerian tea for sleep when a piercing scream startled her.

  The scream grew louder. The band stopped playing, and everyone turned to see where the scream was coming from. Hattie would know that scream anywhere. It was Harper.

  Chapter Seven

  Hattie moved quickly through the opening in the tent and bumped right into Jackson. Together they walked around to the backside of the tent where the scream had come from. They got to the top of the narrow path that connected Hattie’s property to the Catholic parish, and what they saw stopped them cold. They both pulled off their masks to take a clearer look.

  Harper was standing midway in the path and was looking into the trees. All that was visible to Hattie was the bottom half of what appeared to be a man, just his legs below the knee and feet in dress shoes were sticking out. With that, Hattie and Jackson took off moving quickly towards her.

  Jackson reached Harper before Hattie did. He took Harper by the arm and spun her away from the man. He held back Hattie, too. He moved swiftly but efficiently. Jackson bent over the man who was lying face up in the grass. Hattie could see that the man’s eyes were open beneath the mask he was still wearing, but they were not focused on anything. There was a distinct bullet hole in the man’s forehead. There was no question he was dead. Jackson checked the man’s pulse to be absolutely certain and stepped back to them.

  “We need to call the police. Do we know who he is?”

  Hattie wouldn’t need the man’s mask removed to know his identity. She had just spoken to him earlier in the evening. It was Prosecuting Attorney Tucker Reese.

  Jackson pulled his cellphone from his pants pocket and called 911. He explained the situation and promised to let no one near the scene. Hattie turned back to see guests forming in a group at the top of the path. She waved the few of them away that started to walk towards them.

&nb
sp; She turned to Harper. “Are you okay? Hurt anywhere?”

  “I’m all right. Just shaken,” Harper explained. Then she started, “I was waiting for Jackson, and I heard arguing…”

  Harper was cut off by a man approaching from the opposite end of the path. Hattie turned to see Fr. Patrick McNally walking towards them.

  “What happened here?” Fr. McNally inquired, looking at Hattie and Harper and then down to the dead man. He looked back to Hattie for an explanation.

  Fr. McNally was young for a parish priest. He was in his early fifties, and when he wasn’t working, dressed in casual clothes rather than the black pants and shirt and white collar many older priests wore. Hattie took in his jeans and red pullover sweater. His pants were muddy and so were his hands. His dark hair was messy and out of place. Hattie was immediately suspicious.

  “Where did you come from?” Hattie asked curtly.

  Fr. McNally stumbled over his words, “I was in my residence, and I heard screaming. I came out to see what was happening. I saw the three of you here.”

  “Why are you all muddy?” Hattie eyed him suspiciously.

  He looked down at his pants and his hands. Fr. McNally must have realized Hattie’s suspicions because he answered quickly. “It’s not what you think. I was in the basement going through some old boxes. I had just come up when I heard the screaming.”

  Hattie put a protective arm around Harper. While his explanation was reasonable, she knew in her gut something was off. She turned to Jackson. “I’m taking Harper in the house. Keep him here.”

  Harper started to speak, but Hattie shook her head no. Harper got still again. Her eyes were wide, and she was trembling. As Hattie walked Harper past the crowd, she could hear the sirens off in the distance. Hattie turned to her guests. “You should go back into the tent. A man was killed. The police will want to speak with all of us.”

  Hattie heard the gasps of the women and the hushed words of the men, asking each other who it was that was killed. But they all did as Hattie asked and turned around and went back into the tent.

  As Hattie was walking Harper back to the house, Dan approached. He pulled off his mask and asked, “Do you need help?”

  Hattie touched his arm. “Walk with me into the house, please.”

  The three of them made their way around the tent into the front yard. As they headed up the front walkway, several Little Rock police cars pulled into the driveway. As cops got out and approached, Hattie explained that Harper had found the body, and they were going into the house to wait. Hattie explained where they could find the body. She added that Jackson, her neighbor, had called 911 and was standing guard.

  Hattie looked at the detective, “You’re going to want to get this one right. The dead man is Tucker Reese. Jackson is also keeping an eye on Fr. McNally, the parish priest. He approached us when we found the body. He seems out of sorts.”

  One of the detectives, a tall black man who had massive arms and a chest that strained the material of his shirt, stepped forward. He offered his hand to Hattie. “I’m Detective Tyson Granger. The other detectives will head down to where the body is, but I’ll speak to you both now.”

  Hattie nodded in understanding and the four of them went into Hattie’s house through the front door. She motioned for them to head into the large living room on the right off the hallway.

  Hattie turned to Dan and told him to light the fireplace while she motioned for Det. Granger and Harper to take a seat.

  Once seated, Harper reached up and untied her mask. “I forgot I still had this on,” Harper explained to no one in particular. Sparkle and Shine came over to Harper and rubbed up against her legs. She gave each of them a pet behind the ears.

  Det. Granger turned to Hattie and Dan, “I’d like to speak to Harper alone first, so if we can have some privacy, that will be appreciated.”

  Hattie didn’t want to leave Harper. After the murder of her friend in New York, and now this, Hattie felt horrible for her. Harper was strong, but there was only so much one person can take. At least she had the dogs for comfort and protection.

  Seeming to sense her hesitation, Det. Granger assured, “I’ll go slow, and if Harper needs a break, we can stop.”

  Harper spoke up, “I’ll be fine. It’s okay, Aunt Hattie, really.”

  Hattie and Dan left them and walked into the back of the house to the kitchen. Sitting at the kitchen table, Dan asked, “Was it really Tucker Reese?”

  “If I didn’t see the bullet hole in his head myself, I would have thought he was passed out drunk.”

  Chapter Eight

  “As I said my name is Det. Tyson Granger. I just need to hear what happened,” he said, sitting forward in his chair with his hands resting on his knees.

  Harper leaned back and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath. “I just moved here last week from New York,” she started. “I didn’t know many people at the party. My aunt’s neighbor, Jackson, is new to town, too. We had been walking around meeting people together when he had a call he needed to take. While I was waiting, I walked towards the woods at the very back of the yard, and that’s when I heard people arguing.”

  Granger interrupted. “Could you hear what they were saying?”

  “No, it was just muffled words, but I could tell from the tone it was harsh and angry. I followed to where the voices were coming from, and that’s when I saw two men through the trees. I was on the edge of the lawn, not to the clearing yet, but I could see through the trees. I just thought it was two people arguing so I turned away. But then I heard a noise. It was like something falling. I turned back, and they were gone.”

  Granger moved farther to the edge of his seat. “I’m not sure I understand. What do you mean like something falling?”

  “It’s hard to explain.” Harper sighed. “It was like leaves crunching and twigs snapping. Maybe it was when the man fell or maybe the other man ran through the trees. I don’t know, but I couldn’t have had my back to them for more than a few minutes. I was just standing there looking up at Jackson. I was thinking he looked annoyed, and I wondered what was wrong.”

  “Could you see either of the men from where you were standing?” Granger inquired.

  “The man who wasn’t shot, yes, but not really. I could see him, but he had a mask that fully covered his face. It was red and gold and had horns like the devil. Actually, the whole mask looked a bit like the devil. I couldn’t make out anything else about him. That mask was all I could see.”

  “You ended up finding the body, correct?” Granger confirmed. “When did you realize something was wrong?”

  Harper’s voice grew quiet. “I heard that noise and when I turned back, there was no one there. People don’t disappear that fast so I got curious. I walked along the tree line to the edge of the clearing. That’s when I could see someone’s feet sticking out. The rest of him was in the more wooded part. I assumed maybe he was drunk and fell. I was going to see if he needed help. But when I got there…”

  “Did you realize right away that he was deceased?”

  Harper nodded. “His eyes were open, he wasn’t moving. I could see the bullet hole. There was blood. I couldn’t seem to move after that. I wanted to run, but I couldn’t move my feet. All I could do was scream.” Harper started to softly cry.

  Granger reached over and rubbed her arm. “You didn’t see anyone else? The other person in the mask wasn’t around?”

  “No, there was no one. If he was in the woods, I didn’t see him. I’m sure it was a man.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “His height. The way he carried himself. His voice.” Harper paused and then said forcefully, “It was definitely a man.”

  “You didn’t know the deceased?” Granger questioned.

  “I just moved here,” Harper reiterated. “I barely know anyone. He wasn’t someone I had been introduced to or had met this evening.”

  Granger pulled out a pen and notepad from the folder he had in his hands and jotted
down some notes. He looked back up at Harper, “Is there anything else you can think of that might be important? Even the smallest detail.”

  Harper thought for a moment but nothing was coming to her. “Not right now,” she said finally, and then asked. “Can I get a drink of water?”

  “Sure, I think we are all set. I’ll stop by when I have more questions.”

  They both got up, and as Harper turned to leave, Granger asked, “What made you leave New York to come to Little Rock?”

  Harper felt no need to lie. He could easily find out on his own. “My ex-husband got tied in with the mob, had an affair, and one of his friends was murdered. I testified against him,” Harper deadpanned. “After that, I don’t think many people wanted me to stay in the city. I was trying to avoid more scandal.”

  Granger looked at her with a mix of surprise and admiration. “You testified against your own husband?”

  “The FBI asked for my help,” Harper explained. “I helped. He clearly wasn’t the man I thought he was when we were married. Sometimes you just have to do what’s right. After I helped, I then had to testify.”

  Granger raised his eyebrows. “You helped the FBI?”

  “I’m tougher than I look, Detective,” Harper noted. Then thoughtfully, as much to herself as to him, she said firmly, “I think I’m tougher than I even realize sometimes.”

  Harper looked around the detective as a uniformed cop entered the room. Det. Granger turned his attention to the cop. He was young, looked barely out of college. He excused himself for interrupting. “There have been five more burglaries tonight. We just got the call on the radio. The homeowners are here at the party. All of them. They were just notified. I know you’ve been pulled off that case for this one, but Det. Thompson said you’d want to know.”

  “Thanks, I do,” Det. Granger said sternly. He took an audible breath and ran a hand down his face. The cop turned and walked out.

  “Burglaries?” Harper asked concerned.