by Vickie Fee
Dave sniffled and cleared his throat, trying to act like it was merely allergies that were making his eyes turn red. “I’ve never been so relieved to see somebody who drives me crazy as I was when I walked into the emergency room and saw you on that stretcher,” he said, looking down at Di, his eyes all dewy.
“You were relieved,” Di said incredulously. “I opened my eyes and saw this blinding light. For a minute I thought I must be dead—until I realized the light was fluorescent.” Di ran her hand across the top of her head. “Oh, great. I have a bald spot. I’m going to look like a mangy dog.”
“That’s just where they had to put in the stitches. It’s barely noticeable, really,” Dave said unconvincingly.
The doctor came in to examine Di, along with a nurse, who shooed all of us out of the room.
“Dave,” I said once we were out in the hallway, “Tonya told us most of the story leading up to her and Ray killing Darrell and Duane. If she decides to clam up and wait for her attorney, I can give you most of the details.”
“Oh, she’s been talking nonstop. Started the minute the reenactors nabbed her. I think she’s trying to line up an insanity defense. I don’t know. Maybe she’s got a case. She seems pretty crazy to me.”
“I see how the drug smuggling came into play, but how do all the stolen Confederate artifacts fit in?” I asked.
“Ray was part of a burglary ring connected with organized crime. That’s how he first met Bobo and the drug end of the business. Ray was stealing expensive Confederate collectibles from shops and some individual collectors who were insured for the goods. They’d collect the insurance money and then resell the stuff on the black market. But the gear had to be stowed out of sight for a while, until things cooled off. Ray was getting a cut but figured out an angle to make even more money for himself by selling the artifacts to Darrell and Duane before he had to turn them back over to their fences.”
“Why would Darrell and Duane go for that?” Larry Joe asked.
“They didn’t know the goods were stolen. Ray convinced them that the collectibles were a good investment, that they could buy this stuff below market value, hang on to it for a year or so, and then resell it for a handsome profit. This scam served a dual purpose, because it helped keep Duane and Darrell from blowing too much of their cut of the drug-smuggling money and it funneled it directly into Ray’s pockets,” Dave said.
“Does that mean the collector from Nashville you caught at the storage unit was part of the theft ring?” I asked.
“No, he wasn’t. He came into the picture when Darrell innocently sold a few items to him, not knowing they had been stolen. The ironic part is that they used the money from the stolen goods Darrell sold to Adams to buy a really nice sword for Ray as a Christmas present—the one Adams took from the storage unit. They sold the stuff without telling Ray because Darrell and Duane wanted the gift to be a surprise for him.”
The doctor came out of Di’s room and joined us in the hallway.
“I rechecked her pupils, and we’re going to give her something for nausea. Things are looking pretty good, but I still want to monitor her overnight and do an MRI in the morning to be on the safe side.”
“Is it okay for me to sit with her tonight?” Dave said.
“That’s fine. Try not to let her get upset, and if you notice she seems confused or is slurring her words, call the nurses’ station at once.” The doctor looked over the chart on his clipboard and headed off down the hall.
“All right, then, Larry Joe. I’ll stand watch with this lunatic, and you keep your eyes on that one,” Dave said as he opened the door. He stepped back into Di’s room, leaving Larry Joe and me alone in an empty hallway that smelled of disinfectant.
“I’m sure you’ve got a lecture in store for me, and maybe I even deserve it, but can you please save it for the morning?”
Larry Joe leaned over and planted a kiss on my forehead. “You’re alive. You’re safe. That’s enough for me,” he said. “For now, at least.”
He took my hand, and we started walking toward the elevators.
Epilogue
After recuperating at home for a couple of days at Larry Joe’s insistence, I was back at work. I had walked over to the real estate office and was chatting with Mr. Sweet when Winette fluttered through the front door with a big smile on her face.
“I sold a house yesterday. I’ve got a closing tomorrow. And I’m on my way to show a house to some prospects who are just itching to buy.” She hurriedly grabbed some papers from her desk drawer. “Wish me luck. I’m going for a trifecta,” Winette said, giving us a wink before exiting as quickly as she’d entered.
Mr. Sweet looked over at me with his typical deadpan expression. “I’m glad at least one of us is having some good luck.”
“Dead people showed up at a meeting with my last clients,” I said. “I figure it can only get better from there.”
“I dunno,” Mr. Sweet said. “Been my experience that dead people are less trouble than living ones.”
My cell phone began to buzz. It was Mrs. Erdman, thanking me for planning the perfect anniversary party, telling me that everyone said they’d had such a wonderful time and that she and Mr. Erdman had decided to go on a second honeymoon, only this time to Italy instead of Alabama. She went on to say she wanted to book me for a New Year’s Eve celebration and launched into a long monologue about all the wonderful ideas she had for the party, including having a large lighted orb descend from the top of a tree in their backyard. “It’ll be just like Times Square,” she gushed.
As I listened to her rattle on, a big smile involuntarily crept across my face. Things really were back to normal.
I love my job.
Tips for Hosting Your Own Moonshine and Magnolias Party
(Or alternately, for evening outdoor festivities, perhaps with less emphasis on alcoholic beverages, call it a Moonlight and Magnolias Party)
FASHION
Choosing from breezy summer dresses in pastels and florals to floor-length gowns and hoopskirts, you can decide what kind of Southern belle you want to be.
For the guys, jeans are a practical alternative to overalls. For men who want to go a bit dressier, light khakis and short-sleeved dress shirts are classic. If you add suspenders, all the better!
FOOD
You’d be hard-pressed to find a Southern buffet that doesn’t have deviled eggs and cheese straws on it. Include them for authenticity. Fried chicken and waffles are a soul-food classic. Gussy it up a bit by cutting the waffles into cookie-size rounds, topping them with fried chicken tenders and a drizzle of molasses, and securing them with wooden skewers.
Add a Southern twist to standard party fare. For example, make your favorite spinach dip but substitute turnip greens for the spinach. Add a dash of hot sauce, and you’re good to go.
DRINKS
It’s hard to go wrong with whiskey. If you don’t happen to have a cousin with a still, you can create the moonshine vibe by serving whiskey in mason jars. Be sure to plan for sleepover accommodations and designated drivers or taxis. Never let guests drink and drive.
Mint Julep
Yield: 1 serving
4 fresh mint sprigs, plus 1 sprig for garnish
1 teaspoon powdered sugar
2 teaspoons water
Shaved or crushed ice
3 ounces bourbon (or to taste)
Place the 4 mint sprigs, the powdered sugar, and the water in a highball glass and muddle the mint. Next, fill the glass partway with shaved or crushed ice and add the bourbon. Top with additional ice and garnish with the remaining mint sprig. Serve the mint julep at once with a straw.
Note: Bourbon, a type of whiskey, is a little sweeter than other whiskeys and is a traditional ingredient in mint juleps. Other bourbons may also be used, but Kentucky bourbon is the most authentic. Traditional recipes call for 1½ to 3 ounces of bourbon.
Note: For teetotaler friends—especially those who have made a vow to their mamas—offer a nonal
coholic version of the mint julep by substituting ginger ale or lemonade for the bourbon.
DECORATIONS
Scents and Sparkle
Floating magnolia blossoms and candles add a romantic ambience to any outdoor party.
Magnolia blossoms will float. But to keep them floating for longer periods of time, cut Styrofoam into thin pieces just smaller than the blooms and insert one stem into each piece of Styrofoam. If the magnolia blossoms are used as decorations in a swimming pool, be sure to turn off the pool filter, or the floating blossoms will all be drawn into it.
If you don’t have a swimming pool, buy a plastic kiddie pool and spray paint it a dark color so the magnolia blossoms really pop. Fill the pool with water and place potted plants around the outside perimeter. Gently place the magnolia blossoms in the pool. The addition of floating candles adds sparkle and elegance.
Magnolia blossoms and floating candles can also be placed in water-filled half whiskey barrels and large galvanized tubs as a focal point in the backyard. Or line a walkway with gallon buckets of floating blossoms and candles to greet guests as they arrive.
Ice Sculptures
If you have your heart set on ice sculptures, they can add an impressive accent to your buffet table.
For large or custom ice sculptures, you will need to hire a professional. Ice sculptors can create anything out of ice, from a Plymouth Barracuda to a custom business logo. Prices can range from fifty dollars to five thousand dollars or more. Check out the National Ice Carving Association (Nica.org) to search for an ice sculptor in your area.
For a do-it-yourself approach, you can purchase ice molds from restaurant supply stores and online sources. One-time-use ice molds produce sculptures with fine details. They are also generally more expensive, ranging from sixty-five dollars to one hundred dollars for small standard styles.
Reusable molds run from about twenty dollars to forty-five dollars for popular styles that are twelve to twenty-four inches tall. These molds, also available online, can produce some nice pieces and are a good option for the budget minded or those who will use them over and over. Larger, more elaborate ice molds can also be purchased from specialty suppliers for five hundred dollars or more. Generally, the smaller, more affordable ice sculpture molds come in a limited number of popular designs, such as hearts, swans, bride and groom statues, dolphins, and angels.
Make sure you have enough freezer space to accommodate the ice sculptures, and keep in mind that many of the sculptures take at least forty-eight hours to freeze properly.
A BRIGHT IDEA
FROM THE BRIDAL TEA:
PHOTO SHARING
For the wedding, the bride and groom usually depend on a professional photographer. But for events like the bridal tea, bridal showers, bachelor and bachelorette parties, and the rehearsal dinner, casual snapshots taken with cell phone cameras are an easy and natural way to capture the moment—and share it instantly. Web-based photo storage and sharing sites, such as Shutterfly, Photobucket, and Snapfish, make it easy to share events with guests, friends, and family.
Shutterfly, for instance, enables users to upload, organize, edit, and share photo albums with others. Users set privacy controls, so they can share photos and videos with everyone or with just a small group. Plus, it’s easy to sync photos from computer, mobile devices, and Facebook. Android, iOs, and Roku apps are available. And reasonably priced prints and other photo items, such as refrigerator magnets, can be ordered and picked up at stores, including Walgreens and Target.
Don’t miss the next book in the Liv and Di in Dixie series,
It’s Your Party, Die If You Want To
On sale October 2016!
Chapter 1
I entered Town Square Diner and spotted Morgan Robison, who despite my druthers was meeting me for lunch. She was strategically positioned in a corner booth licking her chops, peering over the top of her menu at a well-built, younger man seated at the lunch counter. If he was typical of Morgan’s usual choice in men, he was also married.
I was seemingly invisible until I cleared my throat and spoke her name.
“Liv McKay,” she said, lifting her butt just high enough off the seat to give me a limp shoulder hug. “Sit down. I’ve been waiting for ages.”
“Am I late?” I asked, knowing I wasn’t.
“No matter. You’re here now, and we have so much to talk about.”
Morgan is president of the Professional Women’s Alliance of Dixie. The group’s unfortunate acronym is commonly pronounced pee wad. Our conversation mostly consisted of Morgan giving me marching orders for PWAD’s annual retreat, set for the coming weekend.
“You’re just a doll for taking care of this for me, Liv,” Morgan said, answering the buzz of her cell phone as she leapt up from the table and hurried on her way—leaving me with the bill. But I figured picking up the check was a small price to pay for her to go away.
I strolled back to the office on the opposite side of the square, from which I operate my party-planning business. The October air was crisp and the red maples in front of the courthouse dabbed flames against the sky. Hay bales, gourds and scarecrows decorated several storefronts.
Before going up to my office, which is located above Sweet Deal Realty, I tucked into the real estate office to chat with Winette King, who works there as an agent. The bell on the front door jingled as I entered.
“How was lunch?” Winette said.
“I had lunch with Morgan Robison.”
“You have my condolences,” she said. “I suppose Morgan issued your assigned duties for the retreat. She e-mailed me my to-do list.”
“What’s she dumping on you?” I asked.
“Clean-up. I’m sure she thinks my people are well suited to cleaning. I probably remind her of the mammy she had as a child.”
“No, she didn’t,” I said.
“Oh yes, she did.”
Since Winette is the only active member of PWAD who’s African-American—not to mention that she stands head and shoulders above Morgan in intellect, heart and moral fiber—it really chapped my hide that Morgan would ask her to do the clean-up. I can’t say, however, that it came as a complete surprise. Morgan was raised with a silver spoon, the only child of one of the wealthiest families in the county. She’s a vice-president of Dixie Savings and Loan. Her major qualification for the job is that her daddy owns the bank.
After standing with my mouth agape for a moment, I said, “I’ll help with the cleaning up.”
“You bet you will,” Winette said, matter-of-factly.
“Better yet if you’d like, I’ll swap jobs with you. Morgan wants me to babysit our guest speaker, Lucinda Grable.”
“That ghost woman on TV?”
“Yep.”
“No, thank-you. I’d just as soon hang onto my broom and dustpan,” Winette said.
Unless you count the lady who won a set of luggage on The Price is Right, Lucinda Grable is the only television celebrity that the town of Dixie, Tennessee can lay claim to. She hosts a “paranormal reality” series on cable, called P.S. Ghost Encounters. The P stands for psychic and the S stands for scientific. I’m not sure how much of the show qualifies as scientific, or reality, for that matter. But it is entertaining.
Lucinda provides the psychic element as she senses and sometimes even talks to ghosts. She works with a team of investigators who use infrared cameras and other specialty equipment to demonstrate that some otherworldly phenomena are supposedly present.
“This may be a silly question, but is there any practical or sane reason that we’re having a psychic as the guest speaker at our professional women’s retreat?” Winette asked.
“Lucinda’s supposed to tell us how she built her local ghost hunting business into a television empire. But, she’s also going to try to make contact with ghosts in that little family cemetery down the hill from the lodge.”
“Lord, help us,” Winette said.
“Okay, Winette, I’m headed upstairs. Do you know
what Mr. Sweet is up to? I haven’t seen him at all today, or yesterday for that matter.”
Nathan Sweet is my landlord and the “Sweet” of Sweet Deal Realty.
“He’s involved in the development of that new shopping center they’re building up on the highway. He spends more time investing in new development these days than he does in selling existing properties,” she said. “The old coot’s probably still got the first dollar he ever made, but he’s busy making more money. You’d think at his age he’d want to retire and enjoy spending some of that legal tender before he kicks the bucket.”
“Are you kidding? I bet he outlives both of us,” I said.
“You’re probably right,” Winette said, tossing her head back and letting loose a room-filling laugh.
While my office is directly above Sweet Deal Realty, the entrance to the staircase leading up to the office is next door beneath a green awning that displays the name of the business, Liv 4 Fun. I had to choose a short business name, since the width of the glass door comprises the entirety of my street frontage. There’s no restroom upstairs, so my rent includes use of the facilities in the real estate office. Not completely convenient, but the rent’s cheap and the location on the square is primo.
I had settled in at my desk and had touched base with a couple of vendors when my cell phone rang. I knew from the ringtone that it was my mother, but I answered anyway.
“Liv, jump in your car and get over here right this minute,” she said in a panicked voice.