Rock-a-Bye Bones

by Carolyn Haines

  “It’s a Mercedes roadster, Sarah Booth.”

  I felt my lungs contract. She was right. It was a car exactly like mine.

  “This is a trap.” Tinkie reached for the wheel as her window exploded and glass flew everywhere.

  27

  I hit the gas, but the Caddy moved too slowly and another bullet shattered the back passenger window where Sweetie was sitting. I cut the wheel sharply left, and for one brief moment, Gertrude Strom was illuminated in the headlights, a rifle to her shoulder.

  “Hit her!” Tinkie commanded.

  I jerked the wheel right and a bullet thunked into the driver’s door as the wheels gained traction and the car shot forward. The front wheels hit the thick gumbo soil of the field and the car slewed left, then right. There was a thud as the heavy Cadillac struck something. I had no idea what as I struggled to get the car on the road and prevent it from flipping. The gumbo held the wheels like cement, making the car impossible to guide.

  At last I steered up onto the road and stopped. “Is the baby okay?” Glass had showered Tinkie, the infant, and Chablis.

  “She’s fine.” Tinkie sounded a lot less shaken up than I did.

  “Check the pets,” I said, my voice weak.

  Tinkie put Libby on the seat between us before she leaned over the front seat. “Sweetie has a bad cut on her back, and Pluto has a shard in his paw. He won’t let me touch it.”

  “Are they okay until we get to Zinnia?”

  “I’m pretty sure. I’ll watch them. You drive.”

  “I hit something. It could have been Gertrude.” I looked behind us but there was only the burning car and darkness.

  “You are not going to check.” Tinkie grabbed my wrist. “You are not. She could be waiting there with her rifle, ready to take you out. Then she’d come for me, the baby, and the pets.”

  She was right. I couldn’t risk those in my care. “Call Coleman.” I nudged my phone toward her as I focused on the road ahead. I stomped the gas and the wheels squealed as we tore down the highway. As fast as I was going, I had to be extra careful.

  Tinkie got my favorite lawman on the line and gave him a full report on Gertrude, the burning car, the shots fired. “How does she always know where we are and what we’re doing?” Tinkie asked.

  She’d put Coleman on speaker so I could hear. “That’s a good question, Tinkie. Oscar has been looking for you for the past eight hours. He’s worried sick and he didn’t have a clue where you’d gone. What are you two doing driving on back roads?”

  “Coming home from Memphis,” Tinkie said, and I admired her cool. “I’ll explain when I get there.” She gave him the location of the accident on Highway 3 so he could call the state troopers to the scene. “We might have hit Gertrude with the car. We couldn’t stop and check because she was armed.”

  “That was the proper decision. You say the car was burning when you saw it?”

  “That’s right. In the middle of a stretch of straight, empty highway.”

  “It’s possible Gertrude has some kind of tracking device on your car. Possibly on both of your cars.” Coleman sounded upset and worried. “We’ll check when you get home. Where have you been, Tinkie? Where could Gertrude have located your car to put something on it?”

  “The Memphis airport.”

  Give my partner credit, she was sticking as closely to the truth as possible.

  “So the car was left in a parking garage?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is Sarah Booth okay?”

  “She’s fine and we’re taking Libby to the hospital. Please alert Doc that Sweetie Pie is cut and may need a stitch or two.”

  “Will do.”

  Tinkie disconnected and leaned back against the seat. “This entire night has been surreal. I can’t believe I was going to skip the country and go to Central America. Then we start home and Gertrude almost kills us.”

  “I know. She’s after me, but she doesn’t care who else gets hurt.”

  “I hope you hit her, Sarah Booth. You should have driven back and forth over her body to make sure she was dead. Freaking Jason.”

  I grinned at her horror reference. “I was afraid the Cadillac would get stuck in the field. If we’d been stranded, we would have been sitting ducks for her.”

  “She’s stuck out there now, without transportation. She burned up her car just to set the scene so you’d slow down.”

  There was no doubt. Gertrude was totally insane. “Gertrude stole that car from the dealership. It was always just a way to torment me.”

  “If she’s on foot, they’ll get her.”

  I wasn’t sure that was true. So far, Gertrude had eluded all attempts at capture. But with what Tinkie had facing her, I kept my thoughts about Gertrude to myself.

  When at last we pulled up at the hospital, Doc came out to check Sweetie Pie. I hung back with my dog, but Doc whispered in my ear. “Go with Tinkie. I’ll take care of Sweetie, and your partner needs you now more than the dog does. I’ve deadened the area, and I can take care of this right here in the car. It won’t take but a couple of stitches to close the wound. And I’ll take care of Pluto’s paw.”

  Like it or not, I was in for the whole ride. Tinkie would have to act her way through this encounter, and I would have to be the supporting actress. I caught up with Tinkie in the corridor and walked beside her to Pleasant’s room.

  When she pushed open the door, we were greeted by Pleasant, who was sitting up in bed. Beside her were her mother and sister. Frankie Graham, whose wide grin was a billboard for his happiness, hung back in the corner. I knew then the DNA test had come in and proven conclusively that Frankie was the dad. The Smith clan had accepted him. They all rushed forward with a cry of joy when they saw the baby.

  “She’s perfectly fine,” Tinkie said. She walked to the bedside and put Libby into her mother’s arms. “Just like Sarah Booth promised. Here’s your baby, safe and sound.”

  Pleasant’s tears fell on the baby’s forehead. “She’s perfect,” Pleasant said. “Absolutely perfect.”

  “She is,” Tinkie agreed. “I’m sorry I was slow getting here with her. We had some complications.”

  “I wasn’t worried. I knew she was in good hands,” Pleasant said. “Mama assured me you were the kindest people on the planet. She told me how good you’ve been to Libby. I want you and Mr. Richmond to be her godparents, if you will.”

  I didn’t have to hear the answer. I slipped out of the room so Oscar could enter. Tomorrow I’d figure how to retrieve my car from Memphis. Tonight, I wanted to go home and dive into my bed. I couldn’t think about Tinkie’s near defection or the possibility of Gertrude’s body lying broken in a bare cotton field. Too much had happened too quickly. I’d gone from near murderer to savior and possibly back to murderer. I’d sort it out tomorrow, when I knew the facts.

  * * *

  I woke up the next morning to the sound of laughter echoing from downstairs. My bedside clock showed seven in the morning. Who was in my house? And what smelled so wonderful?

  I tiptoed to the stairs and sneaked a peak into the parlor where Harold, who’d driven me home and spent the night, bounced Libby on his knee. Beside him were Pleasant, Charity, Faith, and Frankie. The front door opened and Coleman and DeWayne came in, both carrying grocery bags.

  “Sarah Booth is still asleep,” Harold said. “Tinkie, Millie, Cece, and Jaytee are in the kitchen. Madame Tomeeka is on the way. I think Sarah Booth forgot today was Thanksgiving.”

  And I had. But my friends had not. And thank god Tinkie was here to celebrate with us. What a wretched holiday it would be if she weren’t.

  I hustled back up the stairs, showered, and brought my brand new, extra-special Thanksgiving sweater from the box it had arrived in. It was pumpkin orange with fall leaves embroidered down one sleeve and across the chest. On the back was a handstitched rendition of a pumpkin pie. It would absolutely send Tinkie up the wall, which was my intention. I also had a little orange hat with a green stem, w
hich I perched atop my fuzz of new hair.

  I sauntered down the stairs and into the parlor. Harold burst into laughter, which startled Libby, who set up a wail. Tinkie came running out of the kitchen like she was on fire. When she saw me, the first thing she did was rush to Libby and cover her eyes.

  “Don’t let her see! Don’t let her see! That baby will be scarred for life!” she said.

  Everyone erupted into laughter. My shopping had been well worth the effort.

  “Something smells wonderful.” I sniffed in the scent of cinnamon and spice.

  “Millie is cooking,” Harold explained. “With some help from Cece and Jaytee. I think they’re actually sampling everything she cooks. They can’t wait for lunch.”

  “Thank you for inviting us,” Charity said. “This is a special treat.”

  “It wouldn’t be a holiday without Libby and her family,” I said. Tinkie’s quick, hungry look at the baby told me a lot, but she had herself under control. She might weep for Libby, but it would not be in public.

  The lie we floated about someone threatening the baby was accepted by everyone, though Coleman cocked an eyebrow and nailed me with his penetrating gaze. Harold excused himself and left the room.

  “Sarah Booth, may I have a word?” Coleman said. He motioned to the front door. “We should take a walk.”

  “I should do something to help.” I looked around, hoping someone would suggest a chore that urgently needed to be done.

  “Everything is under control,” Pleasant said. “Someone has already set the table with beautiful china, but I can fill the water glasses and things like that. You go ahead, Sarah Booth. I’ll take care of anything that needs to be done. I owe you my life.”

  “I’m just glad everyone is healthy. Did you get things worked out with Benny Hester about your songs?”

  “He was wonderful. Everything is good on that front. Ms. McNair is charged and will go to trial.”

  “What about Lucinda and Carrie Ann?”

  “They instigated the kidnapping,” Coleman said. “They paid Potter and DeLong to abduct Pleasant with the intention of holding her long enough for her to miss her private interview with the donor who sponsored her scholarship. Unfortunately, Potter ran down Dewey Backstrum when he had Pleasant in the car. That’s when he devised the plan to hold her until she had the baby. He found a buyer for the infant.”

  It was pretty much the way Tinkie and I had figured it out. “But Rudy saved the baby.”

  Pleasant teared up. “He did. He wasn’t part of the plan. He just happened to be riding with them. They never told him anything. Rudy was a sweet guy. At least he did little things that made it easier for me. And he saved Libby.”

  “He did indeed.” I edged toward the kitchen, hoping to avoid the confrontation with Coleman. He could always see through my lies, and he’d know there was more to the Tinkie story than I was saying.

  “And Pleasant has some wonderful news,” Charity said. She motioned her daughter to speak.

  Pleasant blushed, but she took the center of the room. “Beverly Moon with Delta State University called last night. A donor has offered a full scholarship for me. Tuition, room, board, and child care for Libby. And we’ve decided to keep her name. Elizabeth Marie Smith-Graham. So she’ll be Libby Marie.”

  “Wonderful news!” I clapped and whistled.

  Coleman was not to be avoided, though. “Out front, Sarah Booth. Now, please.”

  When he used that voice, I had to obey.

  The day was sunny and brisk and the light golden. Coleman steered me across the drive and toward the barn. It was a perfect day for a ride, but my horses were still at Lee’s, where they were safe from Gertrude’s evil schemes. Except I heard the thunder of hooves and my three beauties crested a hill, squealing and bucking and farting. Only a horse could make a fart charming.

  “They’re home!”

  Coleman was pleased with himself. “I called Lee and she brought them this morning.”

  “What about Gertrude?”

  “That’s what I want to talk to you about.”

  “She’s dead? Did I kill her? I honestly didn’t mean to.” I sounded a lot like Dorothy, who hadn’t meant to melt the wicked witch.

  Coleman put a finger on my lips. When he gently touched my chin, lifting it so that my gaze met his, I connected with such a jolt that I put my hand on the pasture fence to steady myself.

  “She isn’t dead, but based on the blood the highway patrol found in the field, she’s hurt pretty badly.”

  “She escaped?” How was that possible? She had no means of transportation and she’d been hit by a car.

  “Someone stopped and picked her up. And someone had planted a tracking device on Tinkie’s Cadillac. DeWayne took it off and sent it to the state lab for analysis. I doubt we’ll learn anything except the brand and maybe where it was bought. There weren’t any prints.”

  “Gertrude’s had help all along. Bijou,” I whispered.

  “Maybe, but I can’t prove it. A state team from the Mississippi Bureau of Investigation is tearing Hemlock Manor apart right now. The main house and every outbuilding on the property. If Bijou is guilty of harboring Gertrude, she’ll pay a hefty price. Wherever Gertrude is, she won’t be bothering you.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “She’s not a young woman, Sarah Booth. She’s seriously injured. If she values her freedom, she won’t come at you again.”

  He knew something else. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Maybe I’ll spill if you tell me what Tinkie was really doing in Memphis.”

  “Keep your secrets. Fiddle-dee-dee, who wants to know anyway?” I assumed my best Scarlett persona.

  “I figured you’d protect Tinkie to the grave. But I don’t want to know, because then I’d have to charge her. Just leave it. And those bounty hunters are gone, too.”

  Awareness widened my eyes. “You think they picked up Gertrude?”

  “Maybe.”

  “But they’d take her to Junior Wells. They were working for him.”

  “Unless they weren’t.”

  I frowned. “What are you saying?”

  “Gertrude has had help all along. You’re right about that. Someone has been giving her money, information, places to hide. And to that person, she was a real liability. She was reckless and foolhardy and dangerous. Whoever was funding her would be revealed if she were captured.”

  “You think they snatched her up to do away with her?”

  He focused on the bucking horses as they frolicked around the pasture. “I do, actually.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what I want to ask you. Who benefits from having Gertrude on the loose to torment you? To possibly hurt you?”

  “I don’t know anyone who hates me that much.”

  Coleman sighed. “Someone does. And we have to find out who that is.”

  “How?”

  “By watching and listening and digging into your past cases.”

  “You think it’s someone from a past case?”

  “Who else could it be?”

  He was right about that. Prior to becoming a private eye, I’d led a life without conflict. There were jealous actresses in New York, but none had a reason to take out a vendetta on me. I’d never been that successful on the stage. Maybe some crazy fans of Graf Milieu, my former fiancé, would want to take me out—but Graf and I had broken up. I was no longer part of his world. It had to be past cases.

  “After Thanksgiving, we’ll get Tinkie and go over each case. There’s a loose end somewhere. Someone with money and a motive to hurt you.”

  “Okay.” I didn’t look forward to this, but I was glad to have Coleman on my side.

  “Would you do me a favor?” Coleman asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Take off that ridiculous pumpkin stem hat?”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t kiss you when you’re wearing that thing. Makes me feel like I’m abu
sing a vegetable.”

  I laughed and removed the hat just as Coleman swept me into his arms and delivered on his promise of a kiss. “I’ll find out who’s behind this, Sarah Booth. I promise.”

  And I knew he would.

  When we ended the kiss, I needed a moment to compose myself. Scott and the band were on the way. Harold was in the house. Both were men who’d stated their interest. And they were my friends who deserved fair treatment. “I want to feed the horses. Alone,” I said softly.

  “Don’t be too long. I’ll see you inside.”

  I watched him walk away, aware yet again of my attraction to him. I hurried to the barn, glad to see my ponies filled with piss and vinegar and ready for breakfast.

  I’d just filled their feed buckets when I sensed a presence behind me. Still raw from Gertrude’s sneak attacks, I whirled, swinging an empty bucket like a weapon.

  “Lawsy mercy, Miss Sarah Booth, you ’bout took your mammy out.”

  “Oh, no! You cannot do this.” Before me stood Hattie McDaniel in her maid uniform and doo-rag. “This is politically incorrect, Jitty. Stop it now. Really, you must stop it now.”

  “I made you some breakfast and I want you to stuff it in right this minute.” She magically held a tray filled with pancakes dripping in butter and hot syrup. “Then when you go in that house with all your gentleman callers, you eat like a bird. You hear me, don’t go in there and shovel food down like a field hand.”

  “What is wrong with you!” I had to get her out of the Hattie guise and back to herself. “Please, Jitty. Why are you doing this?”

  “Who took care of Scarlett?”

  She had a point. Mammy took care of Scarlett even when Scarlett was a terror. And Jitty took care of me, but she wasn’t a mammy figure. Jitty had more style in her little finger than I had all over my body. “You do take care of me.”

  She shimmered in the dim light of the barn and suddenly was my familiar haint, all svelte and stylish in my black jeans and a red cotton sweater. “Sarah Booth, you’ve had some hard lessons this past week.”

  I couldn’t argue that. “Tinkie and me both.”

  “You didn’t fail me or your parents. You lived up to your raisin’.”