by Peggy Webb
The knitting circle ladies started arriving and I was glad not to be hiding upstairs. Aunt Grace and Aunt Pearl took turns introducing me as Jo Jo Marsh, aspiring photo journalist, who was helping them out in the shop until I got picked up by one of the big magazines.
My bogus credentials caused a stir among the ladies, everybody except Susie Trumpet. She gave me a big hug and said, “I’m glad to see you again, Jo Jo. Can we talk after this is over? In private?”
“Yes. I’d like that.”
Before we could say more, we were interrupted by Ann Leveau.
“I’m so glad to see a reporter! Do I have a story to tell! Where’s your camera? I’d like to make the cover of Time.”
“I’m not actually working tonight,” I said, and Ann flushed a deep shade of red. But that’s not the main reason I felt sorry for her. Aunt Pearl had planted the gun on her property and she’d had quite a grilling from the police. “But you can go ahead and tell me your story anyway. I have to warn you, though. I can’t promise a spread in Time, or any other magazine, for that matter.”
“Oh, shush. My story will win you the Pulitzer.”
Of course, it wouldn’t, but I was beginning to see how everybody has a story, and most of them think it should be headlines news somewhere.
“Mine ought to be a movie,” Ann said, and I hid my smile behind my coffee cup. “It would be called Leader of New Orleans Society Wrongly Accused and Nearly Imprisoned for Murder.”
As that lengthy movie title would indicate, Ann turned out to be a self-important woman who can never get to the point and is boring besides. Aunt Grace must have noted my growing discomfort, because she clapped her hands and asked everybody to take their chairs.
Or maybe Houdini made her do it. He was sticking so close to Aunt Grace that I could almost believe he was a cat with wondrous powers.
“I have a little surprise for you tonight,” Aunt Grace said. “While we’re knitting Susie is going to share her success story with us.”
Everybody scrambled for knitting needles except me. I’m not the domestic type. If you’re on a starvation diet, I’m the one you want for a cook. Most of my dishes are inedible. My sheets will never have hospital corners and every dust bunny within a fifty mile radius can find a home under my bed. I shudder to think what I might do with a pair of knitting needles.
Being otherwise unoccupied left me free to observe, which is the role I had told the aunts I’d play. So far this group didn’t look as if it harbored a killer. Still, somebody had taken the murder weapon from Aunt Pearl’s bag, and that somebody was in this room now holding onto knitting needles she’d perceived as the perfect murder weapon.
Aunt Grace nodded in Susie’s direction, and she instantly caught her cue. Pushing aside her knitting, she smiled at her audience for the evening: Ann Leveau; the Hankins twins, Tilly and Tammy, who really were so timid they hadn’t said anything except hello; Beatrice Love, a stout but handsome woman who played piano every Sunday at Bonaparte Baptist Church, and, of course, the aunts.
“I have good news that is an indirect result of Lolly Beaufort’s murder.” Ann gasped, Beatrice turned red, and the Hankins twins turned pale. “As most of you know, Charles Beaufort and I are friends.”
“Well, I never!” Ann flung her needles into her knitting bag. “I’ve a good mind to leave right this minute. Young lady, everybody knows what you were doing with Charlie behind Lolly’s back. Probably still are.”
“Gossip is the stuff of a Hollywood actress’s dreams.” Susie treated everybody to a smile that looked genuine but could just as easily be an act. Still, I admired her courage under fire.
“You want to talk about dreams!” Tilly Hankins shouted.
When she jumped out of her chair, everybody froze. Aunt Pearl had said the Hankins twins were so quiet they always blended in with the wallpaper.
“What about dreams, Tilly?” Aunt Pearl said.
“I was the one meant to marry Charlie,” Tilly said. Tammy reached out to tug on her twin’s ugly brown skirt, but Tilly slapped her sister’s hand away. “I’m going to say it and nobody’s going to stop me.”
“Go ahead.” Tammy almost snarled. “Dig your own grave. See if I care.”
Had Susie unmasked a murderer? I glanced at Aunt Grace, who was pulling her knitting bag closer.
“All right,” Tilly said. “I will. Charlie’s daddy Wiggie always told my daddy he wanted Charlie to marry me.”
“For your information, it was me Wiggins and Clair picked out for Charles. Not that it makes one whit of difference with you. You’re so stubborn you can’t be moved with a backhoe.”
“Well, I never!” Tilly glared at her sister and then Susie before she plopped back down and ducked her head close to her knitting bag. Was she going to grab a needle and plunge it into Susie’s neck? Or was Tammy her target?
When Tilly pulled out a handkerchief and snorted into it, I saw the aunts both visibly relax. Aunt Grace winked at Susie, and Aunt Pearl said,
“Go on, Susie. Tell everybody the best part.” Then my aunt casually lifted her bag to her lap and pulled out a pair of purple knitting needles, one of which had recently been plunged into Lolly’s neck.
I studied the gathering, but nobody reacted to seeing the murder weapon back where it belonged. Shivers ran through my spine. We were dealing with a cold killer here, one who must have plotted every move before she made it. Given the age of the victim and of most of the women gathered here, the killer might have been plotting the murder for years.
“So, Susie, continue,” Aunt Pearl said. “Tell everybody the best part.”
“As all of you know, Lolly loved the theater, particularly live performance.”
Beatrice Love sniffed. “She gave a performance every day of her life, pretending to love Charlie.”
Susie ignored the interruption. “Charlie has finally decided to go ahead and purchase a building which will be repurposed as a theater. He’s going to name it Lolly Presents in memory of his late wife.”
“Well, he’s sure moving fast,” Ann said. “Lolly’s not even cold in her grave. And I can just imagine what his interest in the theater is all about.”
Beatrice’s lips tightened into a thin line. Now that Tilly’s tirade was over, she didn’t react at all. Her sister Tammy was the only suspect who was visibly nervous. Remorse over a killing? Or remorse over a public spat with her twin?
“The first performance will be Murder Sets the Stage. I will both star in the play and direct. You see, Charlie has named me the permanent artist in residence.”
“You!” Beatrice Love exploded out of her chair so fast nobody saw it coming. “You will never take Charlie from me! Never!”
Suddenly the room was utter chaos. Not only had Beatrice turned into a screaming maniac, but she was wielding a big knife with pearl handle.
“She’s got my knife,” Aunt Pearl screamed.
Ann Leveau got up so fast she overturned her chair while Tilly and Tammy jumped about like puppets on a string, effectively blocking Beatrice from her target. Poor Susie had shrunk back into her chair, no longer the self-confident actress sharing good news.
I couldn’t have gotten a clean shot if my life depended on. I jumped up from my chair and circled behind the killer, intent on taking her down with a surprise tackle.
“My stars and garters,” Aunt Grace yelled.
Suddenly Houdini leaped into the fray, scattering the crowd while Aunt Grace barreled forward swinging her knitting bag. She landed a blow on the back of Beatrice’s head, and the killer went down like a sack of self-rising flour.
“Good grief, Grace,” Susie said. “What’s in that bag?”
“You don’t want to know.”
I thought it would take an hour to restore order, but Aunt Pearl accomplished that in ten minutes flat. While Grace wrapped a still-prone Beatrice in Duct tape, Pearl ushered the twins and Ann out the door. Tilly and Tammy were glad to go but Ann argued that since she’d been a major suspect, she should be front an
d center when the police hauled the real killer away. I never knew what magic Pearl worked to get Ann to leave.
She had no trouble getting me out of the way. “Susie will drive you back to your apartment. There’s a bottle of Chardonnay chilling in your refrigerator.”
*
I was only too happy to obey. Besides, this was all part of Aunt Pearl’s master plan. I was never to be involved in the police report. And I don’t know whether her own report involved confessing to obstruction of justice. I suspect it did, but I hadn’t asked any nosy questions. The aunts said they had friends in high places and that included the NOPD.
That was good enough for me.
I uncorked the bottle and poured two glasses then Susie and I sat down on my sofa for a chat.
“You did great back there, Susie.”
“I know. Best acting job I’ve ever done. I was scared half to death.” She took a sip of her wine. “But all’s well that ends well, right?”
I knew she was quoting Shakespeare, but I didn’t say so. I was still trying to figure how I could form a friendship and still keep most of my life a secret from Susie.
“Right. Tell me more about the theater.”
“Charlie has hired three different crews to speed up renovations on the exterior and the auditorium so I can have the first play up and running in a few weeks. The building has a separate space big enough for me to conduct auditions and start rehearsals.”
“Why did you choose a murder mystery for your first play? Because of Lolly’s murder?”
“Actually, no. I wrote the play, and Charlie’s insistent on showcasing everything I do.” She laughed. “I see you’re surprised.”
“I confess, I am. I had no idea you were so talented.”
“I guess you also have no idea what I ever saw in Charlie?”
“Am I that transparent?”
“No, but you wouldn’t be human if you didn’t wonder.”
“You’re right. I not only wondered, I made up my mind to try and talk you out of continuing a relationship with a man old enough to be your father.”
Susie laughed so hard she started wheezing. I was scared she was going to choke to death.
“Can I do something? Get you some water?”
“Oh, my, you’re a breath of fresh air. I love that you were going to talk me out of making a fool of myself.”
“Did it work?”
“Jo Jo, there was never anything between Charlie and me except a great friendship. Lolly was just impossible and he already had more mistresses than he could keep up with. And then there were all those old flames like Ann and Beatrice who weren’t mistresses but wanted to be. The thing is, Charlie didn’t have anybody to just listen when he talked.”
“Why didn’t you set the record straight?”
“Would it have done any good to deny the gossip? Besides, there’s an old saying in my profession that any publicity is good publicity.”
“I hate publicity.”
“You do?” She leaned back and studied me, and I could have kicked myself. “Then why did you choose journalism?”
“I meant that I hate the idea of having the public spotlight thrown on me. On the other hand, I like the idea of finding the right story.”
“Stick with me, kid. I’m the right story.”
Susie winked, and I saw how it might be possible to form a real friendship with her, how it might be possible to let my true self show and still protect the details that might get me killed.
After Susie left, I put on pajamas and looked out the window. Were my parents out there somewhere, looking at the same moon, alive and well and wondering how they would get back home? I hoped so. I said a little prayer that Lucy and Steve would find them.
The moon cast shadows over the patio, and I saw that Aunt Grace’s old Buick was back. In the morning over tea we could talk about knitting or flowers or horses or Susie’s play. We would probably talk about my parents and the sighting that had renewed hope. We would talk about anything but murder.
I glanced about the patio once more but there was no sign of Josh’s pickup truck. Still, I’d labeled him friend and tucked him firmly into my life. And that felt good. Maybe even better than good.
Everything about New Orleans was growing on me…except my John Lennon glasses. Maybe I could ditch them soon and tell everybody I got contacts.
I turned back the sheets and crawled into bed. As an afterthought I put my 9mm within easy reach. Still, in spite of the gleam of moonlight on steel, I giggled. Was it possible that Magnolia Wild was about to drift straight into a dreamless sleep?
If it happened, I was going to credit my amazing aunts…and maybe that magic cat, too.
The End
Read More
Discover how Maggie Wild’s parents vanished in The Sea Keeps Secrets (A Charmed Cat Mystery prequel). The prequel is included as a bonus in Peggy’s latest Southern Cousins Mystery: Elvis and the Devil in Disguise.
Love mysteries? Don’t miss Bluebird Flying Backward by Peggy Webb writing as Anna Michaels. In the novel reviewer’s call “stunning historical suspense” a strong, independent woman far ahead of her time searches for her long-lost sister.
Coming in December, 2019—Snow Brides (Storm Watch) by Peggy Webb, book five in a six-book, multi-author romantic suspense series. Peggy teamed with three of these bestselling authors last year for BREAKDOWN, the suspense series reviewers called “the perfect whodunit.”
About the Author
Visit www.peggywebb.com for a complete list of Peggy’s novels. Sign up for the author’s free newsletter on her website and follow her on Facebook and Twitter. Peggy is a former adjunct instruction of writing at Mississippi State University and her website includes video mini-classes in writing.
Peggy Webb is a USA Today best-selling author from Mississippi with almost 100 books to her credit. She writes romantic comedy, women’s fiction and comedic cozies under her own name. Her peers call her a “comic genius.” She also writes historical fiction as Anna Michaels and literary fiction as Elaine Hussey. The late, great Pat Conroy called her literary work “astonishing.” This critically acclaimed author has won many awards, including a Romantic Times Pioneer Award for creating the sub-genre of romantic comedy. Several of her novels, including Driving Me Crazy and the Southern Cousins Mysteries, have been optioned for film.
Peggy is a member of Novelists, Inc., International Thriller Writers, and Romance Writers of America. Her award-winning books, Touched by Angels, A Prince for Jenny, the Donovans of the Delta series and her boxed sets have all been Kindle Top 10 bestsellers.
Though she lives in the Deep South, her two children and four grandchildren live in Florida and New Hampshire. She plays piano, composes blues lyrics, sings in her church choir and loves gardening. Go to her Facebook page to find videos of Peggy at her baby grand playing practice sessions of gospel music. She’s passionate about theater, has written two screenplays based on her work and has starred in several community theater productions, including Steel Magnolias, Crimes of the Heart and The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. She was assistant musical director for The King and I.
Follow the author on her websites: www.peggywebb.com and www.elainehussey.com and on Facebook and Twitter.
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