“But they donated that car a few months after they moved into the farmhouse,” Sherry said.
“Seven months after,” Fred muttered. “I recollect the last time I worked on that confounded vehicle. Hard to believe that old junker’s still runnin’.”
Dinah cracked a brief smile. “Aster and Maise told Detective Vogelman about the donation to the church, but she wants the paperwork, and that paperwork may have disappeared.”
“Not from their tax files, it hasn’t,” Sherry said stoutly.
“I do believe I know where to find those, too,” Eleanor said.
“Unless the detective can compare their personal records with the church’s and verify the facts, she’s going to remain skeptical about how the car ended up in Camden. The previous reverend retired, and the key church ladies who were there at the time have left as well.”
“Are you saying,” Dab asked, “that our friends have to stay in jail until someone at the church finds the donation records?”
“Or until the church in Camden can produce proof regarding how they came to have the car. The preacher and his small staff are on a spiritual retreat until Saturday.”
“Oh, no!” Sherry cried. “That means a weekend in jail.”
“Not necessarily,” Dinah said calmly. “Their arraignments will be held tomorrow morning at nine. I’ll be arguing that they aren’t flight risks, and I’m pushing for them to be released on their own recognizance.”
Eleanor nodded. “You believe the judge will support you?”
“It will be Leo James, and he has no reason not to, especially if Vogelman can reach the preacher in Camden on Sunday.”
“Back up a minute, Dinah. Where were their fingerprints found? On a door handle? Steering wheel?”
Sherry vigorously shook her head, making her bangs flop wildly. “No, no. They detailed it themselves before they gave it away.”
“Then their prints must’ve been found in an out-of-the-way place.”
“I haven’t discovered that detail yet, but I agree. Still, we don’t have the resources locally to do a detailed analysis, and you must see it doesn’t look good, even if the prints being in the car is circumstantial.”
We were quiet a moment, and then I asked, “Can we see them? Aster needs her lavender spray.”
Dinah chuckled. “Oh, you haven’t heard the best part yet.”
“Well, tell us, woman,” Fred growled.
“Mayor Paulson has arranged for Mr. Huff to provide two new therapeutic mattress toppers for the ladies, as well as fresh pillows and nice sheets.”
My mouth fell open. “Vogelman went for that?”
“She didn’t have much choice when the sheriff and the other Hendrix County powers-that-be agreed.”
“So, can we go see them?” Sherry asked.
“Very likely, but I’m still working on it,” she said as she stood. “When I know, you’ll know.”
• • •
It was nearly two in the afternoon when Dinah left. Kathy Baker was due in about three, but Jasmine had been stuck greeting customers and gossip seekers for too long. We all had tasks to catch up on, and we needed something constructive to do. We wouldn’t stop thinking about Aster and Maise, but busy hands made the time go faster.
Eleanor and Sherry worked the floor with Jasmine while I e-mailed and called artists to see how soon they could deliver more of their pieces. Last I saw, Fred was putting the can opener back together and Dab was sketching designs for holiday-themed metal art.
The store had emptied at three, and I had looked up the library phone number to call Debbie Nicole when Kathy rushed into the shop panting for breath, her brown eyes huge in her face.
“Y’all have to come see this!” she exclaimed. “Outside. On the courthouse grounds.”
“What’s wrong?” Eleanor said, moving to comfort the apparently distraught girl.
“It’s not wrong,” Kathy said, and grasped Eleanor’s hand. “It’s wonderful and—just come see. Get Dab and Fred, too.”
Jasmine flew to the workroom, and when they’d joined us, we trooped out the front door with Kathy in the lead and Fred with his walker clank-clunking to bring up the rear.
As one, we stopped and stared at the spectacle.
Twenty-plus Lilyvale citizens marched around the courthouse carrying poster board signs fastened to yard stakes and chanting, “Free Maise now! Free Aster now!”
Kay Gaskin joined us on the sidewalk with a huge grin. “Isn’t it great? So many people came in, we ran out of poster and foam board, and so did Big George at the hardware store. John and Jane Lambert made an emergency run to the Walmart in Magnolia for more.”
John and his wife, Jane, dressed in matching colors and were friends and neighbors of the Silver Six. I spotted them coming around the far corner of the courthouse marching together. She wore a blue skirt with a khaki blouse, and he wore khaki slacks with a blue shirt. Other longtime friends of the Six I’d met in April also marched. Duke Richards, Dairy Queen owner, carried a FREE ASTER & MAISE sign, and he’d fortunately left Barker the Shotgun at home. Pauletta Williamson, known for her permed gray hair and always wearing squash blossom necklaces, walked ahead of petite Marie Dunn, who wore one of her many denim dresses. Bob Newton from the subdivision across the road from Sherry’s farmhouse exited a car with four others, all in jeans, short-sleeved shirts, and tennis shoes. They trotted up to the lawn, without signs, but they took up the chant. As I watched, bald Bog Turner, the barbershop owner, and Big George Heath of the hardware store joined the protest.
When Cindy Price, the peppy forty-something reporter-photographer from the Lilyvale Legend, showed up, I cringed. Not that I’d given thought to keeping Maise’s and Aster’s arrests out of the paper, but there was no chance of that now.
“This’ll teach that idjit detective to mess with the Silver Six,” Fred crowed.
“Unless it gets our protesting friends arrested,” Sherry breathed, her tone clearly awed.
“I doubt that will happen, Sherry Mae,” Dab said. “The local jail isn’t large enough to house so many people at once.”
“Dab is correct.”
I whirled to find that Dinah Souse had come up behind us. She flashed a full-on grin.
“Did you know about the demonstration?” Eleanor asked.
“I saw the group gathering when I came back from the sheriff’s office, so I knew something was up, but not what. Impressive show of support, isn’t it? Rather like in April when your friends thought Sherry Mae would be arrested for murder and rushed to confess to the crime themselves.”
I recalled that well, and with a smile. The police had shooed Sherry’s friends into the parking lot to take statements and even called in patrol units to help with crowd control. The confession marathon hadn’t lasted long, but it made a statement. After Eric had questioned Sherry for a few hours, Dinah with her, they’d walked out of the station to a cheering section of townspeople.
This, though, was a whole other level of friendship.
Dinah’s cell phone dinged, and she stepped away to answer it. As she did, I noticed Eric’s pickup and a patrol car. Uh-oh.
Eric pulled into the diagonal parking slot a few doors down from the emporium, and the patrol unit parked in one of the far slots facing the courthouse. Officer Bryant was back. He unfolded himself from the car, shut the door, and then stood with hands on his hips watching the marchers.
Eric descended from his truck and slammed the door. He gave a nod to Sherry, Eleanor, Dab, and Fred, but strode straight for me. I couldn’t tell for sure if he was angry, amused, or a bit of both.
“What’s Doug Bryant doing?” I called, to preempt whatever he’d planned to say.
“Watching to be sure everything stays calm.” He stopped before me within arm’s reach. “Please tell me you had nothing to do with organizing this march.�
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“I had nothing to do with organizing this march, but hey—” I did a fist pump. “Power to the people.”
He tried to level me with his cop stare, but his lips twitched. “Chief Randall is fit to be tied.”
“I don’t imagine your new partner is happy either,” I said and arched a brow. “So, Detective Shoar, did you know about the arrest warrant?”
“Not until Detective Vogelman was on her way over. The demonstration gave me a good excuse to come talk to you.”
“You needed an excuse?”
“I need to maintain some semblance of impartiality where you’re concerned, especially in public. Even if it’s an illusion.”
“He’s right.”
Again Dinah had come up behind us, and I turned to her along with my family. The heat of Eric’s body warmed my back, and in spite of everything, having him close warmed my heart.
“Was that a good-news phone call?” Sherry asked.
“Not the best news, but you’ll be pleased. The jail visit is a go.”
“Will we be allowed to take the lavender water?”
“With caveats, yes. You’ll be allowed to take a new spray bottle and a sealed, never-opened vial of lavender oil. You’ll have to prepare the lavender water on the spot with a deputy observing. Aster won’t be able to keep the mixture, but she can spray herself to her heart’s content until you leave.”
“When do we go, and can we all go together?” I asked as Eric moved to stand at my side.
Dinah chuckled. “Since Sheriff Brooks has also heard about the march for freedom, give it an hour, and I think the deputies will be happy to let you in.”
“We should take cookies for the deputies,” Sherry mused.
“Just don’t be offended if they refuse the treats,” Dinah cautioned. “Also I’d advise that only you ladies visit today.”
“But won’t Maise and Aster be out tomorrow?” Sherry cried.
“They should be, but I won’t promise it. Now, if you get to the jail around dinnertime, you’ll have to wait until after six and before seven.”
I lightly touched Dinah’s arm. “Thank you for going to bat for the family.”
“My pleasure, Nixy.” She leaned in closer. “The Silver Six are always entertaining.”
Eric snorted but covered it with a cough when I glared at him.
“We’d best get crackin’.” Fred punctuated his declaration with a shake of his walker. “I’ve got a brand-new spray bottle in back with the price sticker on it. It’s bigger’n the bottles Aster uses, but it’ll do.”
“And I do believe Aster received a new shipment of oil this week,” Eleanor said, her eyes shining.
“She did, and I know where she stashed that box,” Dab said. “Eleanor, let’s go get that oil, pronto.”
“While you’re home,” Sherry said, “take those extra cookies out of the freezer. I’ll take what’s left of our morning supply over to the marchers. Nixy, will you help me? We’ll take the sweet tea and bottled water over, too.”
“Of course, Aunt Sherry. We’ll all meet back in the workroom in half an hour?”
“Done.”
The seniors streamed back into the emporium with Jasmine and Kathy in tow. Dinah told me to call if we had further questions, and she headed back to her office across the street.
Eric moved closer and discreetly took my hand. “It’s all going to work out, Nixy. And, if it’s any comfort, Aster and Maise were in good spirits when I saw them at the station.”
“How good?”
“They were singing ‘We Shall Overcome.’”
I grinned and squeezed his hand. “No wonder Dinah said the Six were entertaining.”
“They can hold their own, and we’ll find the real killer or killers.”
“I know you will— Oh, wait. I have scoop to share. I found out that Dex Hamlin had attempted to blackmail Randy Darby.”
Eric’s posture stiffened, and he let go of my hand. “Where did you hear this?”
“From the man himself, and he believes Cornell was involved in gathering extortion-worthy information. Or what he thought was worthy.” I waved a hand. “Randy and his wife, Billie Jo, still live at Ozark Arms, but they’ve been on an extended vacation. Vogelman should talk with them.”
“If she won’t, I will. Anything else you want to share, Nixy Drew?”
“I wish. Eleanor and I have talked to a number of past and present Arms residents, but I can’t see a single one of them as a likely suspect.”
“Now maybe you understand why Vogelman’s investigation keeps circling back to Aster and Maise.”
“Actually, I don’t, but I can’t do squat about it.”
The wind chimes tinkled, and Sherry stuck her head out. “I hate to rush you, but I’m doing it anyway. Refreshments for the marchers now, talk later.”
• • •
Just over an hour later, we left the men at the emporium, Fred in his workroom, Dab helping Jasmine and Kathy in the store. I drove Sherry and Eleanor the few miles out to the county jail on pins and needles, and I wasn’t the only one suffering from a case of nerves.
Deputy Megan Paulson, Mayor Paulson’s niece, accepted the paper plate of cookies, then ushered us through a checkpoint, where we went through a metal detector. We surrendered our purses but kept the spray bottle and oil. Next Deputy Paulson showed us into a break room, where she set the plate of cookies.
“Ladies, you can make the lavender water here at the sink.”
We’d just begun when Detective Vogelman walked into the room sour-faced and steely-eyed. Eleanor’s composure slipped, and so did the vial she held. I caught it, and without a word, she let me take over.
“Do you want a step-by-step?” I asked with a quick glance at Paulson and Vogelman.
“Depends. Do you know what you’re doing?” Vogelman asked.
I didn’t rise to the bait. “I haven’t mixed the essential oil and water myself, but I’ve seen Aster do it. It isn’t rocket science.”
Okay, so I did get a snark in.
“Keep your hands visible at all times,” Vogelman snapped.
“You know, Detective, this isn’t fairy dust. Aster and Maise won’t disappear.”
“Nixy, play nice,” Sherry said mildly. “Aster needs this calming boost.”
I merely nodded, and completed mixing ten drops of lavender oil with a few ounces of water. When the smell was too strong, I added a bit more water, sealed the spray top onto the bottle, and shook it side to side to mix it.
“You want a test spritz?” I asked Vogelman.
She declined but Deputy Paulson spoke up. “I’ll try it.”
I lightly sprayed the mixture over her head, and after a moment, she smiled. “That’s nice.”
“I was skeptical the first time Aster used it on me, but it really is soothing and calming.”
“Yes, it is,” Sherry said, and took the bottle from me.
She and Eleanor spritzed themselves, and then Sherry gave me a few squirts. “Better add a little more water, Nixy, and a drop or two more of oil. Aster is going to need a good dousing, and Maise will use it, too.”
“Ms. Holcomb uses lavender water?” Deputy Paulson asked.
Sherry chuckled. “She will to make Aster happy.”
Megan Paulson smiled, and after I added more water and oil, I turned the spray bottle over to her. We were then led to a stereotypical visitation room like those I’d seen on TV and in films. A wall interspersed with Plexiglas panels separated visitors from the incarcerated. Blue counters ran the length of both sides of the spaces, and chairs and phones were positioned on each side of each panel. Our lavender-induced calm proved temporary, because Sherry paced and Eleanor fidgeted in one of the chairs as we waited.
At last, Maise and Aster entered their side of the room. The sound was m
uffled, but the Plexiglas didn’t completely cancel noises. No shackles or handcuffs, and they still wore their street clothes—both in blue jeans, with a dark green button-up blouse for Maise and a flowing tie-dyed blouse for Aster. Deputy Paulson followed them and presented Aster with the lavender water.
“Oh, thank you, Megan!” Aster exclaimed, and immediately held the bottle over her head and pressed the pump lever several times. Next she aimed behind her head and spritzed at her back, followed by more misting all down the front of her body.
I’d thought both Aster and Maise had looked a little gray when they came in, but as Aster took three deep, slow breaths, her complexion seemed to return to its normal tan color.
“You want me to spray you now, Maise?”
“Later, Aster,” Maise said, using her in-command tone. She pulled a second chair to the window and sat across from Eleanor. “We don’t have much time, and right now I want a sitrep from the girls.”
Aster took the other seat but accidentally-on-purpose gave Maise a light lavender water misting as her sister lifted the phone receiver and positioned it with the earpiece and mouthpiece facing upward. A crude speakerphone, but Eleanor did the same with ours, and it worked.
Aster continued to spray herself every few moments, and I had to hide a grin because Maise’s color had also improved. Their side of the visitation room would certainly smell divine for the next group of, uh, detainees. I couldn’t bring myself to think of Maise and Aster as prisoners.
“I’m so glad you didn’t have to change into jail clothes!” Sherry exclaimed.
“Not since we expect to be out tomorrow,” Maise said. “Is Dinah making that happen?”
“Your arraignments are tomorrow at nine,” Eleanor confirmed.
“Did Dinah mention a bail amount?”
“We have savings,” Aster added as she gave herself another misting.
“We’ll handle whatever comes,” Sherry assured them, “but don’t worry. Dinah is angling to have you both released on your own recognizance. I’m sure the charges will be dropped entirely before long.”
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