by Angie Fox
“It’s fascinating,” I said honestly. “And I very much appreciate your help with this.” I gave her my email address, as well as the number of Ellis’s police line to call and leave a message giving me permission to look around. That way there could be no question I was allowed to be there.
“Can I also get a gate key?” I asked, going for broke. “A house key would be helpful as well.” The entrance to the house hadn’t been locked, but I wouldn’t put it past Duranja to correct that.
“I’ll have my assistant send them overnight, and in the meantime, I’ll let the city know you can use their key.”
We thanked each other, and I hung up with a smile on my face.
Perhaps I’d celebrate with some pie. I headed back to the kitchen just as a knock sounded at the front door.
I was sure popular today.
I rebelted my robe, smoothed my hair, and hoped that whoever was at the door didn’t mind seeing me in my pajamas after ten o’clock on a weekday.
It might even be my mysterious pecan pie benefactor, returning to talk or to at least accept a thank-you.
But as I neared the front window, my face fell. I recognized the champagne-colored Cadillac parked out front, the precisely bent elbow visible through my side window, and the second impatient knock.
Virginia Wydell.
Chapter 8
Virginia stood on my porch with the stiff-backed grace of a woman who had crossed the railroad tracks and found the other side even worse than she’d imagined. She looked fancy enough for church in a red sheath dress, kitten heels, and a light, cream-colored cardigan covering her shoulders. Armani sunglasses and her traditional, enormous pearl studs completed the look, elegant without trying too hard. I kind of hated her for nailing it.
Her lips, a perfect red to match the dress, curved in the world’s tiniest smile. “Verity, dear, have I caught you sleeping the day away?”
I held my chin high and did my best to pretend I wasn’t in my robe sans slippers.
“Not at all. I was working on a case.”
“I suppose your ghosts don’t care how you present yourself,” she said pleasantly, stepping into the foyer.
She removed her sunglasses and appraised the foyer and adjoining front room with an expression I could only think of as ‘Wicked Witch of the West surveying the results of tornado damage.’
“My goodness.” Virginia spun in a slow circle, taking in the devastation she had wrought. All of my grandmother’s furnishings—from the handwoven rugs to the Sheraton mahogany hallway table, to the sconces my great-grandfather had commissioned—were gone.
“I see you’ve decided on a minimalist decorating scheme.”
“I’m getting back on my feet,” I reminded her, leading her into the front room and toward the parlor, the traditional place for receiving guests and the only room in the house that had any furniture to speak of.
She took in the pale shadows on the walls where family portraits had once hung, and I was almost tickled when she startled at the trash can next to the carved marble fireplace in the back parlor.
It was hard to surprise Virginia Wydell, but Frankie’s trash can might have managed.
She made no mention of it, though.
I led her to the purple velvet couch I’d earned in exchange for a ghost-hunting job. “Would you care to sit?” I asked as if I were offering up a spot on my verandah.
She eyed the used piece of furniture like it might bite her, and then hastily covered her social gaffe. “I’d rather not. I don’t want to stay too long.”
Thank goodness. The sooner she was out of here, the better. “What can I do for you?”
She turned to face me, her lips pursed. “You can stop using your influence to entice Beau into making bad decisions.”
“Excuse me?” What was she even talking about? I hadn’t spoken to Beau since we’d made a semi, sort-of peace on board the Sugarland Express. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
She gave me a hard look. “You might be fine with your joblessness and your bohemian lifestyle, but Beau is destined for bigger things. I don’t know what kind of hold you have on him. I’ve never understood it. But I won’t have him jeopardizing his future to impress you.”
“Believe me, I’m not impressed,” I said quickly before I’d had a chance to think. “I mean, whatever’s wrong now, you can’t put it on me.” Beau was his own person. In spades. He had done some soul-searching when we were trapped on that train, and while it hadn’t been fun to be on the receiving end of his ire, I was proud of the way he’d pulled himself together.
Virginia sniffed. “Verity, honestly, do you think I don’t remember the role you played on the train last month?” Her bracelets rattled as she gestured. “Encouraging Beau to walk all the way to Gatlinburg, and at such a time?” While there were murderers afoot, her eyes accused.
“It was his idea, and he did a good job.” Beau had come through for us surprisingly well. He’d not only brought the police, but he’d also rented a van to transport all the passengers to the next station. It was the sort of thoughtful, self-aware action that the old Beau wouldn’t have even considered.
“He should never have been put in that position in the first place,” she spat, her temper flaring.
She turned her gaze to the ceiling, and her attention snagged on the wires hanging where my grandmother’s favorite antique chandelier should be. I’d sold it to pay back my debt to her, and she knew it.
She advanced until she was directly underneath the devastation she’d wrought. “My son is a good boy, or he was until he met you.”
I wasn’t even sure which son she was talking about but didn’t believe it wise to ask.
“Your boys are grown. They can do what they want.”
She served me a brittle smile, clearly struggling to maintain her decorum. “It’s plain to me that you’ve had a heavy hand in encouraging Beau to shirk his duties, to change who he is. Come now, dear, you’ve already secured another foothold for yourself into the family. Why must you add to the drama?”
All I wanted was a quiet life with Ellis. “Beau is the one making waves for once, and I’m glad to see it.”
“What?” she demanded. “Beau has let three of his clients go,” she said as if he’d jumped naked into traffic. “He’s given them to a junior partner.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
She looked like she’d like to bop me over the head with her clutch. “If he keeps this up, he’s going to lose status at the firm. This all started on the train, and you know it. Now Beau is acting as though he can zip around and do a bit of this, a bit of that, and expect to have some modicum of respectability at the end of the day. Ludicrous as it sounds, I think he’s holding you up as an example to follow.”
“I can’t control your son,” I told her. “Never could. Never will.”
Virginia narrowed her eyes, one hand rising to her throat. A moment later, she drew my grandmother’s cross out from under the edge of her dress, her fingers resting lightly against the delicate filigree. “Someone is steering the ship, and it’s not Zoey.” She gave me a long, hard stare. “Beau says she’s quite taken with you. But then, you both seem to enjoy making minimum wage, so I suppose you have that in common.”
I stiffened. “If you’re going to stand here and insult me, you’d best get on with your day.”
She closed her eyes briefly. “I apologize.”
She almost sounded sincere. I wasn’t sure what to do with that.
“You have to understand,” she said, regrouping. “I know you care about Beau. You must see that he’s ruining his life! I mean, first, it’s you and this—” she waved her hand around the room at the signs of my desperation as if she hadn’t been the cause of it “—and now a woman without a home, a woman whose life’s ambition is to run a food truck, for the love of God. What kind of woman is that for Beau? She’s not even from Tennessee! She looks like she time-traveled here from some hippie commune in the sixties.”
“Virginia, I don’t have enough influence over Beau to dictate to him what sort of woman he should date.” I mean, honestly. “It’s none of my business.” And none of yours, either.
I didn’t say the last part, but she reacted like she heard it anyway, squaring her shoulders and gripping the cross so tightly I was afraid she would break the chain.
“It’s not the sort of thing you would understand, I suppose,” she said at last. “You don’t have children. You don’t know what it’s like to see them throw away all their hard work and potential on distraction and frivolity. You don’t know what it’s like to watch them grow, to mold them into people you can be proud of, only to see it all begin to slip away. And for what? An upstart, ambitionless food truck owner, or a woman who says—”
Virginia stopped herself before anything else slipped out, but I knew what was on the tip of her tongue. I had been a decent enough catch back when I was Beau’s fiancée, with my family history and my respectable job. Now it was an embarrassment to be associated with me.
Well, I felt the same about her. I couldn’t imagine the amount of pressure her sons had been under growing up in the Wydell mansion, surrounded by so much pomp and circumstance. My family wasn’t perfect, but my parents hadn’t doled out affection like it was a prize to be won, either.
“Are we finished?” I wanted to be out of my pajamas by noon.
“I want your word on this,” Virginia insisted. “That you won’t encourage Beau in his ridiculous delusions. He’s a lawyer, and a good one. He’s going to take over his father’s firm someday. That’s his future.”
I hated to tell her, but… “It’s not up to either of us.”
She clutched the cross. Hard. “Do you truly want to go toe-to-toe with me again?”
No. Not again in this lifetime.
Virginia made up the rules as she went, and I never saw it coming. I couldn’t anticipate that level of viciousness. I never would have predicted my home’s destruction, almost losing it, watching her wear my grandmother’s necklace.
I wouldn’t put it past her to sell it just to spite me.
I might not see it on her neck anymore, but I’d also never see it again.
Virginia calmed. She must have seen her message had been received.
Loud and clear.
She released her death grip on the cross, folded her hands over her clutch, and said, “I believe it’s time for me to go.” Then she turned and walked out without another word. The door clicked shut behind her.
I stood for a moment, recovering. I realized I was shaking.
I could handle this. I was a strong woman, too.
She wasn’t in control of my life or anyone else’s.
A moment later, a hard clang rang out from the kitchen. I hurried back to find Lucy standing over the pie pan, which lay facedown on the floor. She looked every bit the guilty skunk.
“Lucy!” I rushed over and picked her up, holding her away from the food. “Bad girl!”
I didn’t even know how she’d gotten up on the counter. Yes, I did. Melody had lent me her stepladder so that I could dust up high, and my skunk was using it like a stairway to heaven. At least it didn’t look like she’d gotten any of the pie. She didn’t need to be rewarded for bad behavior.
I let her out into the backyard and cleaned up the mess.
As outrageous as Virginia’s accusation had been, she had one thing right. Beau was searching for something outside his usual sixty-hour-a-week lawyer life. I sincerely hoped he found it. I couldn’t imagine going through life feeling like you were in the wrong place.
And as I took a bath and readied myself for the day, I made a point to feel grateful for my home and my job. I might not have much furniture or a clue as to who killed that judge in 1928, but I’d figure it out somehow.
In fact, my sister, Melody, might be able to help or at least give me a place to start.
I called up the library’s front desk, but instead of my sister, I got the library director, Sheila Ward. “Melody’s off getting lunch at the food truck out front,” she explained. “So is everyone else who is supposed to be working here.” She didn’t sound as annoyed as she might have. “As soon as one of them comes back in, I’m going to visit it myself. It smells delicious.”
Good for Zoey. She hadn’t wasted any time getting her food truck up and running. My stomach rumbled just thinking about it. “Thanks, Sheila. No need to leave a message.”
I’d visit my sister in person. Zoey too. And maybe I could get some lunch while I was at it.
I drove into town with my window down and the radio blaring country and western tunes. I didn’t usually turn on the radio when Frankie was riding with me, because he had opinions with a capital O about modern music, and none of them were good. It felt like a treat to be able to listen to a man sing about taking a pretty girl for a ride in his pickup truck.
I passed the trendy brick-faced stores that I couldn’t afford to shop at anymore with barely a pang—although come heck or high water, I was treating myself to a truffle selection from the Candy Bar for my birthday. At last, I ended up on the edge of the town square.
Sugarland, like lots of the towns founded during that era, built most of the main city buildings in basically the same spot. The old justice department, the town hall, and the library hemmed the square. The buildings were made of gleaming white limestone quarried from the south end of town. Red limestone accented the doorways and windows, and the library had two tall red columns flanking a pair of large wooden entry doors. I felt a little like I was walking into a castle every time I entered it.
But the library could wait. I parked and set my sights on the orange and red food truck reading “Tuk Tuk Thai Grill” standing in front of it. Melody wasn’t there. She must have finished eating. But a few other people stood out front, inspecting the menu and chatting with Zoey, who leaned down from the window and held court like she was having the time of her life. She’d tied her dark hair up in a bun, and she looked bright and energetic in a sleeveless blue blouse with a beaded collar. We exchanged a wave, and she interrupted her other conversations long enough to shout, “Hey! Lauralee, check it out, Verity’s here.”
Lauralee’s familiar face popped up next to Zoey’s a moment later. “You found us,” she said with a grin. “Hang on, I’ll meet you at the back.”
A second later she opened one of the rear doors and stepped out of the truck. She wore a familiar red and white cherry-patterned apron and held a bunch of greens that I didn’t recognize in one hand. “Smell these,” she ordered, extending them toward me. I complied with a smile. They smelled mild and sweet and vaguely lemony.
“What is that?”
“Fresh lemongrass,” she said. “Isn’t it lovely? Zoey’s got an amazing recipe for the most delicious barbecue sauce, and I thought it would be mostly curry-flavored given the Thai influences, but no! The base for the glaze is lemongrass!” She sniffed the herbs herself with a happy sigh, and then put them back on the counter in the truck.
“You two hooked up fast.” I was glad to see it, although I’d only meant to give Lauralee’s number so my friend could recommend possible coworkers for Zoey.
“It was fate,” Lauralee announced. “Zoey called me last night and told me she wanted to do a test run at lunchtime today, and could I spare a few hours to help prep the food so she could handle the counter?” She planted a fist on her hip. “I would have been working the diner today, but the owner keeps hiring his wife’s cousins, and they cut my hours back again, so this was the perfect fill-in. Thank you for recommending me to her. I think this could be exactly the third job I need.”
That’s right, she had her catering business as well. I wanted to send her on a trip to the spa just thinking about how much work she put in every day. “I don’t know how you find the time for everything you do, a husband, four boys, and yourself.”
“Love what you do, and you’ll never work a day in your life,” Lauralee replied. “How’s that
for a pithy platitude?” She grew serious. “I do fine. It’s hard, of course it is, but at least with this job I’m learning something new.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but Zoey beat me to it. “Two barbecue chicken satays and a side of fried okra with the teriyaki dipping sauce!” she called out.
“Whoops, order up,” Lauralee said. “I have to work, but can we—”
“We’ll talk later,” I assured her. “Go, go.” I walked back around to the front of the truck, where the two guys Zoey had been chatting with were now talking to each other. She waved me over.
“Hey! You caught us at the end of the lunch rush.”
What constituted a ‘rush,’ I wondered. “Were there a lot of people?”
“Like, around twenty or so? Which isn’t huge, but for a first day I think it’s pretty good.” Zoey tossed her head to the side, cat earrings swinging. “People seem to like it. Lauralee is amazing with the food, and I needed the help so I could work the window. I’m hoping the word of mouth will build things up even more for tomorrow. It’s like you said, right? People talk in a small town. Here’s hoping the talk will all be good.”
Her enthusiasm was infectious. “I’m so glad.” Bringing two talented, hardworking women together left me with a warm glow, which dampened when I remembered the visit I’d just survived. “Hey, you should know—Virginia is on the warpath. She ambushed me this morning. She might go after you next.”
Zoey retucked her hair behind her bandana. “I can handle her.”
She had no idea. “That’s what I said at first, too.” What I’d always tried to do. “Be careful. She can surprise you.”
Zoey tilted her head. “She’ll come around once she gets used to the fact that I’m not going anywhere.” She smiled. “Beau came back to me at the party last night, and we spent every minute after that together, even when his mom tried to drag him away again. He’s got my back.”