The Doom Diva Mysteries Books 1

by Sherry M. Siska

  Rose reacted as if he’d pulled an actual gun. She screamed and shoved Sugar toward Otey, using her friend as a shield. The rest of the women scuttled across the street like a bunch of sand crabs running from the surf. Sugar hadn’t reacted, but she said something to Otey I couldn’t make out, grabbed Rose’s arm, and yanked her toward the truck. They whispered furiously to each other before jumping in and pealing out.

  I shouldered Vivi’s bags and met Otey by the trunk of my car.

  “My hero! Seriously, bud, I can’t thank you enough. I thought I was going to have to live here forever. For some reason, that Sugar chick has decided I’m her mortal enemy.”

  Otey shrugged. “No problem. I just finished lunch and was about to head back over to finish painting a bike. How come you’re not at work?”

  I told him about losing my job. “Don’t say anything to anybody yet, please. You and Charli are the only ones who know. Anyway, Charli gave me the day off from the gift shop, so I’m running errands. I’m going to work for her pretty much full time until I land another DJ gig.”

  “That blows, you losing your job. I guess you heard about May Lynda losing hers. She’s freaking out over it.”

  “Yeah. She told me last night. I feel really bad for her. It sucks, especially considering the timing.”

  “Exactly. Well, I better bug out. I’ll catch you later, tater.”

  “I need to take Vivi’s things over to Miss Guydie’s, but if you’re available in an hour or so, we could scoot out to Skillet Road and do a workout.”

  “Wish I could, but I promised a guy I’d finish painting his bike before the weekend, so I gotta work on it this afternoon. After that, I’m going to have dinner with May Lynda and Izzy. How about in the morning? Say about 8?”

  “Eight o’clock. In the morning? You forget this is me you’re dealing with, Otey.”

  He chuckled and ruffled my hair. “No pain, no gain. Seriously, though, it’s the only time I’m going to be able to swing it. It’s going to be pushing it to get the job done as it is. You’d like it. It’s a purple dragon. You should stop by and check it out later.”

  “Cool. I might do that after I leave Miss Guydie’s.”

  He stowed Vivi’s bags in my trunk and just stood there, staring down at them. “Dad blame it, Marty, I still can’t believe she’s gone. Every time I think about it, I feel like I’ve been kicked in the gut.” He swiped at his eyes.

  I felt like a major heel. Here I was thinking only about myself. “Oh, honey, I’m so, so sorry. It’s gotta be hard.”

  He took a deep breath and slammed the trunk lid. “Hard ain’t even the word for it. I’m trying to be considerate and I don’t want to hurt May Lynda, so I just try and keep my feelings corked up when I’m around her. I don’t think I’m doing all that great, to be honest. I went over there this morning and they were looking through old pictures, picking some out for the memorial service. I had to leave.”

  I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him to me. We stood there, quietly holding onto each other for quite a while. Finally, Otey pushed me gently away from him. “Thanks. You’re a good pal, Marty. I’m glad I can talk to you about this. I don’t know what I’d do otherwise.”

  I patted him on the arm. “That’s what friends are for, Otey. I hate that you’re hurting. I sure wish I could do something to help.”

  Otey mounted his bike and adjusted his helmet. “Just listening is good enough.” He ruffled my hair again and cleared his throat. “All righty, then. Tell May Lynda I’ll see her tonight,” he said before starting his engine and roaring off.

  I watched him go, thankful he was my friend. Thanks to you-know-who, though, I never did get to see that cool, purple, dragon motorcycle.

  15

  May Lynda and Izzy lounged on their grandmother’s front porch steps, deeply involved in an intense conversation. As soon as I got out of the car, Izzy jumped up and bounded into the house, slamming the door behind her.

  “What is that all about?” I asked May Lynda, handing her Vivi’s garment bag.

  “Nothing,” she said. “She’s just checking on Gramma.” She was lying, of course, but I didn’t want to push it and somehow provoke her, too.

  “How is Miss Guydie?” I asked.

  “She’s doing a little better, I think. A lot of the police department folks have been over and her friends from church. You just missed your mom. She brought cake and your sister sent cookies and pumpkin bread.”

  Oops. I’d meant to go by Pilazzo’s and get another tray of sandwiches, but with all of the craziness infiltrating my life, it had slipped my mind. I made a mental note to do it before the weekend. “Have y’all made the arrangements yet?”

  “Sort of. We’re going to do a memorial service here in town and then, once they release her body, have a small grave-side service just for the family. Gramma wants her buried by our folks over in Galax, where we lived before.” She stared off into the distance, probably lost in her memories.

  I vaguely remembered when the sisters had first moved in with their grandmother. I’d been about ten or eleven. I’d overheard Mom and Dad talking about how the girls’ parents had been killed in a car accident while on a weekend get-away to Myrtle Beach.

  We went inside and stashed Vivi’s suitcase and garment bag in a small bedroom just off the tiny living room. May Lynda retrieved my phone from her purse and promised, once more, to look for my keys to the gift shop when she got home. My fingers were itching to check my messages, but I resisted the urge and dropped the phone down into my tote bag.

  “Gramma and Aunt June are back in the kitchen,” she said. “Come on back.”

  I followed May Lynda down the short hallway to the cramped kitchen so I could pay my respects.

  Miss Guydie and her sister sat at an old-fashioned red and chrome kitchen table, sipping coffee and chatting quietly. Izzy leaned against the counter in front of the sink, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Her jaw tightened when she saw me, but she didn’t storm off.

  “Gramma, Marty Sheffield is here to visit you,” May Lynda said. “I’ve got a few errands to run, so I’m going to leave. I’ll be back around dinner time. Don’t forget Otey’s taking us out to dinner at Albertino’s tonight.”

  She kissed her grandmother and aunt goodbye and tried to hug Izzy, but Izzy didn’t reciprocate. May Lynda sort of fell against her sister, but Izzy roughly pushed her away.

  “Seriously? Get over it.” May Lynda whispered, so softly that I barely heard her.

  I pretended not to notice the awkwardness, instead focusing on telling Miss Guydie how sorry I was and asking if there was anything she needed. I jabbered on and on about how I’d brought sandwiches before, but had somehow dropped them, and would be bringing more, and then I jabbered about Vivi and what a nice person she’d been. Izzy scowled at me the whole time I jabbered and when I finally stopped yapping and took my leave, she followed me down the hallway and outside, not saying anything until we were out of earshot.

  “Stay away from my family,” she said as soon as the door closed behind her. Her tone was flat, emotionless, not at all in keeping with her message. “You are not welcome here.”

  I stopped in my tracks and turned around to face her, not sure if I’d heard her right. “Excuse me?”

  Her eyes were flat and emotionless, too. “You heard me. I’m warning you to stay away from my sister and my grandmother. They’re too nice to tell you that themselves, but I’m not. You’re not welcome here or at the memorial service. You might think you’re some sort of big shot in this town, but I know the truth. You’re a nobody. The only reason people cared about you in the past was because of Ricky Ray. You’re just pathetic.” When she said pathetic, she finally worked up some emotion. Her tone was pure disgust.

  I’ll admit it, her words stung, conjuring up all of the hateful words that often plagued me in the middle of the night, especially those lonely nights after Ricky canceled our wedding. I tried to pretend like they didn’t, thou
gh. In fact, I pretended like she hadn’t even said them. Mom would have been proud. Or, at least, not embarrassed by me.

  “I’m so sorry for everything that you’re going through. I’ll keep you in my thoughts and prayers. Please tell Miss Guydie to give me a call if I can help in any way.” I held my head high and walked away, counting my steps so I didn’t lose control of my emotions.

  “You’ve done enough,” Izzy said, her tone pure ice.

  I made the mistake of turning around and looking at her. If looks could kill, I’d have keeled right over.

  “You killed my sister,” she said, “and come hell or high water, I’m going to make you pay.” With that, she went back inside, once again slamming the door behind her.

  “What the...” I said out loud, wondering if May Lynda and Miss Guydie also believed I was responsible for Vivi’s death. I surely hoped not.

  I planned to stop by Otey’s shop to check out the dragon bike, but when I turned onto Striper Circle, I encountered what may have been the first and only pedestrian traffic jam in the history of Skunk’s Bottom, the industrial area where Otey’s shop is located. The street was jam-packed with people, mostly women. There must have been at least 100 of them. Near the front, I noticed Giselle, dressed in one of her too-short, too-slutty for daytime outfits. She held a piece of paper and was yelling at the poor guy who had apparently been assigned to be her cameraman. I considered beeping my horn to see if I could get the herd to move aside, but before I could, two Glenvar Police cruisers slid in behind me, their lights flashing. I pulled over and got out, wondering what on earth had happened to cause so much commotion.

  Tim and two other officers climbed out of the squad cars and made an attempt to get the sea of women to part. “Y’all need to move out of the road,” my handsome boyfriend hollered several times to no avail.

  Eventually, one of the other officers retrieved a bullhorn from the trunk of his car and used it, essentially repeating what Tim had said. As the women finally got the message and headed for the street’s narrow shoulders, I realized what all of the ruckus was about. A flat-bed truck hauling the remains of Ricky Ray’s car turned the corner and puttered slowly down the street toward the garage that used to belong to Art Danner. (His family had sold it and it had been renamed “Glenvar Repair Shop”, but everyone in town still referred to it as Danner’s.)

  The driver of the truck slowed, then stopped. He stuck his head out the window, yelling for the women to get out of his way. As soon as he stopped the women surged forward, surrounding the flatbed. Tim and the other officers would herd a few of them back, but another blob of women would surge forward, determined to get closer to the object of their desire. Many of the women shrieked and bawled, some wept and wailed, all of them seemed to be taking pictures with their phones, trying to get their hands on the truck. One woman tried her best to hoist herself up onto the flatbed, but only managed to get one leg up before she started slipping off. Thankfully Tim noticed and reached her just before she fell.

  “What the heck?” May Lynda said, coming up beside me. “Those people are freaking bonkers.”

  “You’re just now noticing? Look, there are Izzy’s minions.” I pointed to Rose and Sugar who were in the midst of being interviewed by Giselle.

  “That bee-yotch!” May Lynda said. “I cannot believe they gave her my job!”

  Whoah. I’d never seen May Lynda like that. She wasn’t crying a bit; in fact, she was so mad she was practically spitting.

  “You’re not going to believe this,” I said, figuring that I wasn’t going to be able to keep the news to myself much longer anyway, “but I got fired today too. All because of her.”

  May Lynda’s jaw dropped. “What? How?”

  “Since she quit they decided they were going to take the opportunity to change things up. Give the morning show a fresh start.” I twisted my hair around my fingers, a tic I have when I’m not, shall we say, being 100% honest.

  “Well, there goes my plan for getting my job back,” May Lynda said. “I was really counting on you coming through for me, Marty.”

  I laughed because I thought she was kidding.

  She wasn’t. She turned her anger on me. “Why are you laughing at me? It’s not funny. This is all your fault, you know.” She narrowed her eyes. “Ricky Ray is missing. My sister is dead. I lost my job. The one thing all those things have in common is you.” She stalked off toward her car.

  It was my turn to have my mouth hanging open. “What the...,” I said, once more in response to a berating by one of the Conrad sisters.

  When I turned my attention back to the spectacle in front of me, Sugar and Rose were pointing in my direction. Giselle said something to her cameraman and they both dashed toward me. Unfortunately, I reacted a bit too slowly and they caught up to me as I yanked my car door open.

  “Marty Sheffield, is it true that you have threatened to beat up on these poor, elderly women?” Giselle yelled, as I tried to slam the door in her face. “They have stated, on the record, that you have twice accosted them. They also have reason to believe you are behind Ricky Ray Riley’s disappearance. Care to comment?”

  I turned the key and shifted into first, but Rose and Sugar lunged in front of my car, blocking me from going that way unless I ran them over. I shifted into reverse, and realized that May Lynda’s car had me pinned in and she couldn’t go anywhere because another police car had her blocked in.

  “Is it true that you have been bullying these women? Is it true that you killed Vivi Anne Conrad? Is it true that you’ve been fired from WRRR? Is it true that you are behind the disappearance of Ricky Ray?” Giselle peppered the questions fast and furious. I couldn’t have answered one of them if I’d wanted to, which, of course, I didn’t.

  I guess she would have still been yelling them if not for what happened next: right in the middle of one of her “Is it trues...”, May Lynda leaped up onto Giselle’s back, pulling her hair, clawing at her face, and screaming “You bee-yotch!” over and over and over again.

  As I unfortunately knew from personal experience, Giselle never lets anyone get the best of her in a fight. She immediately went into self-defense mode. She spun first one way and then the other, twisting her body back and forth, attempting to buck May Lynda off. May Lynda wrapped her legs tighter and locked her arms around Giselle’s neck. I guess having younger sisters had taught her some pretty impressive fighting skills too.

  Within seconds, she and Giselle were on the ground, rolling around on the asphalt, clawing at each other, pulling hair, both of them screaming obscenities. I think I mentioned that May Lynda’s a tiny thing. Despite that, her rage more than made up for her size. By the time the policemen alerted to what was happening, May Lynda clearly had the upper hand. It took Tim and two of his fellow officers to pull her off of Giselle. Fortunately, for me, since I’d stayed in my car, I didn’t have to wait around to see how it all played out. As soon as Tim said I was free to go, I headed out so fast it’s a wonder I didn’t get a speeding ticket.

  16

  Other than the fact that Beau seemed to think my apartment was a combination of her own personal shopping center and the town dump, the rest of the afternoon was, blessedly, without incident. I cleaned up the trail of food scraps, plates, cups, and eating utensils she’d left in the living room and kitchen, fed and petted Delbert, who had somehow gotten trapped in the linen closet, and went into my bedroom. I’m not exaggerating when I say that every piece of clean clothing I owned covered my bed, dresser, and the floor. I grumbled and fussed as I picked them up. I’m not exactly Miss Clean, but I couldn’t believe how messy the girl was. Thankfully, she had apparently gotten in touch with her manager and left town, because, other than the mess and the full bottles of all the toiletries I’d bought for her, there was no sign of her.

  Since I was on a roll, and on the off chance that the keys to the gift shop were buried somewhere in the apartment, I continued cleaning, then took a shower and got ready to meet Tim at Pilazzo’
s for dinner. I’d just finished phoning in the order for our Stromboli, when the front door opened and Beau waltzed in. She wore one of my favorite denim skirts, the cute top Mom had bought me for my birthday, which she’d CUT INTO A CROP TOP, and my brand new riding boots, which I hadn’t even had a chance to wear yet.

  “What the heck?” I said. “You cut my shirt! Why would you do that? Why would you wear my clothes without asking?

  She looked down like she hadn’t even noticed. “Chill, dude! There’s no reason to get all amped up. I just assumed since you didn’t say anything last night, that it was okay. All my clothes were grimed out. And come on, admit it; the shirt’s way cuter now.”

  I wanted to punch her in her perfect little heart-shaped face. “But it’s my shirt. My mom got it for me. Not to mention, I don’t do crop tops.”

  She eyed me critically. “Well, you should. You’ve got the bod for them. In fact, you really need to up your style game. I totally struggled putting this outfit together. But don’t go sweating it, If it’s really bugging you down, I’ll add it on to what I already owe you.” She pulled off the boots and tossed one on the floor and one on the sofa, then took out her vape pen and went to work filling it.

  “I told you, you can’t do that in here. You can go out on the balcony.” I picked up the boots so I could put them away. “Speaking of your manager, were you able to get in touch with her today?”

  She tossed her vape paraphernalia aside, dropped her messenger bag on the floor, her trucker hat and sunglasses on the coffee table, sunk down on the sofa, and opened my laptop. “I did, but she’s out of the country until the weekend, so I’m stuck here until she gets back. I really hate to ask, but can I crash here for a couple more days?” She did her eye thing combined with a variation of the lower lip bite.