Black Beans & Vice

by J. B. Stanley

  Lucy’s statement turned out to be false, because Sullie was a social creature. He small-talked with Gillian about her businesses, sympathized with Bennett over the subject of junk mail, told James he needed to come in to get a library card, and went out of his way to praise Lindy on her enchiladas—and James couldn’t agree with the hunky deputy more.

  “Have you transformed into a vegetarian too?” Gillian asked him, her face alight with pleasure.

  James tried to ignore the thought that his friend resembled a bowl of tropical fruit with her papaya-colored hair, banana-hued blouse, and lime green skirt. She accessorized her vibrant ensemble with a pink belt and matching sandals. “I haven’t officially converted,” he said and carried his plate to the sink. “But I’ve really enjoyed the meals Jane’s been making. She wasn’t much of a cook before, but she’s learned for Eliot’s sake and I am certainly reaping the benefits.”

  Bennett pointed at the fridge and made a drinking motion with his right hand, indicating that James should bring him another beer. “At least you’re bein’ healthy, man. I’ve slipped on the whole no-sugar thing,” he said glumly. “Ate a bunch of donut holes durin’ my route yesterday. I gotta listen to those CDs more.”

  Gillian gazed at him fondly. “The problem is that you fall into a deep sleep the second the CD begins and I don’t think your subconscious can hear Harmony over your own snoring. I really think you should try an herbal remedy such as fresh ginger mixed with honey or even some wild yam.”

  “Do I look like a man who’s gonna eat wild yam before I go to bed?” Bennett scowled.

  The friends laughed and worked together to clean up their meal. When the table was clear and the dishes were washed, Lucy produced a gallon of sugar-free frozen custard.

  “Chilly Willie’s created a new flavor,” she announced, brandishing an ice cream scooper. “I told him about our plan to kick our sugar addiction a few weeks ago and he’s been experimenting with sugar-free flavors ever since. This is called Guiltless Grasshopper Parfait.”

  Lindy rubbed her hands together. “Mint and chocolate? Yummy!”

  “I’ll read you Willie’s description.” Lucy tilted the gallon sideways. “It says, ‘Guiltless Grasshopper Parfait is a creamy blend of mint custard, ribbons of fudge, and chocolate mint cookie crumbles. You’ll be hopping across town to get your feelers on this sugar-free treat!’”

  Bennett accepted a bowl and took a bite of the custard. “Willie Lamont is a gentleman and an artist. This stuff is too good not to be bad for us.”

  No one answered, being too busy licking spoons clean.

  Lucy finished her ice cream first, pushed her bowl aside, opened a file folder, and uncapped a pen. She placed a yellow legal pad at her right elbow and surveyed her friend’s faces. “Okay, let’s get to work. The death of Tia Royale really bothers me. First of all, she was only twenty-six. Second, she was devoted to her cause. Third, her killer roughed her up, bruising her neck while he tried to pin her down, to prevent her from fighting for her life.”

  “And that girl had plenty of fight in her,” Bennett mumbled.

  Ignoring him, Lucy continued. “Tia had no official job. Her parents bought her the house where her body was found and sent her a monthly allowance. While they were generous with money, they kept their distance. According to Tia’s daddy, his daughter wasn’t ‘a good image to be associated with their company.’ And as her mother told me this morning, Tia was ‘different’ from the rest of the Royales.”

  Gillian sighed theatrically. “Poor little black sheep.”

  James smiled as Sullie gave Gillian a bewildered look. Turning his gaze to Lucy he asked, “Not to interrupt, but did you ask Mrs. Royale about Tia’s pets?”

  “Yes,” Lucy said. “The Royales want nothing to do with them. Mr. Royale claimed that they travel too much to care for Tia’s pets.”

  “It’s destiny! Those animals were meant to be yours!” Gillian exclaimed. “Did Snickers go to the vet today?” She whispered the word vet as though her cat, The Dalai Lama, were present. Whenever her intelligent feline heard the threatening word, he took off for the hills, sometimes staying away for days.

  “Turns out, Snickers needed minor surgery. He had stopped eating and drinking altogether. The vet said he had a blockage,” James answered. “The procedure went smoothly and Jane should have picked him up by now.” He looked at Gillian. “I’m glad he’s mine, but I wish the Royales were footing the bill. I could have added a new deck for the cost of that surgery. And if Miss Pickles doesn’t stop shredding every object made out of paper—especially toilet paper—then I’m going to have to keep a basket of leaves in my bathroom!”

  Once the laughter died away, Lucy finished relaying the case details. “Tia’s assailant entered her bedroom and the two of them struggled, leaving her neck bruised. However, the cause of death was heart failure. Until the lab results come back, we won’t know if she was drugged or not, but the M.E. says there are no obvious indicators of the presence of drugs or poison in her system.”

  Sullie stirred on the other side of the table. “The Royales are big supporters of the governor. Mark my words, those labs will be done in record time. It’s our only break so far.”

  Lindy was twirling a lock of black hair around her index finger, a sign that she was deep in thought. “The only evidence of struggle was in her bedroom. Ground or second floor?”

  “Second,” Lucy answered and then, guessing what Lindy would ask next, added, “There was no sign of forced entry around the windows. In fact, they were locked.”

  “So Tia knew her murderer. She let him inside,” Lindy stated with a shiver.

  Sullie’s eyes grew round and he stared at Lindy. “You all are sharp! Lucy and I came to that conclusion too. We believe she was expecting this guy and that she wasn’t as afraid of him as she should have been. She’s made a bunch of cash withdrawals over the last two weeks. Drained her account dry.”

  “Yeah, Sullie got a copy of her monthly statement right before the bank closed today,” Lucy added excitedly. “Tia barely had enough to live on until her next allowance check came. Her balance was down to the minimum. We think she was being blackmailed.”

  James used the tip of his finger to capture the last drop of Guiltless Grasshopper Parfait from his bowl. “How much money are we talking about?”

  Lucy consulted the case file. “Somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty-five thousand. She made five withdrawals of five thousand dollars each.”

  Bennett, who was pulling on his toothbrush mustache while Lucy talked, whistled. “Whoa! But why kill your own personal ATM machine?”

  Gillian put her hands over her heart, her face forming an anguished expression. “How can you talk about that tragic young woman in such a callous manner?”

  Ever the peacemaker, Lindy waved her hands to stave off Bennett’s rejoinder. “Let’s focus on the blackmail. What would someone have on Tia? Maybe she didn’t always feel so passionate about her cause,” she mused. “She might have eaten a double cheeseburger every night and run over squirrels helter-skelter before she had some kind of life-changing experience.”

  “Her parents were of no help as far as why Tia became so involved in animal rights,” Lucy said, clearly disappointed. “Tia was never allowed to have pets, and she had no contact with farmers or livestock. Her brothers had nothing to add. According to them, she left for college a self-centered, fashion-conscious girl, and came back a raving hippie activist.”

  “Were you able to make contact with any of her college friends?” James inquired.

  Sullie consulted his notes. “We talked to the girl she roomed with for two years. The roommate says Tia got involved with any group that would allow her to yell as loud as she wanted or march in demonstrations. Defending animal rights was one of a dozen causes. The lady said that Tia’s family never paid her any mind so she joined these movements as a way of getting attention and belonging to something. This girl was mighty surprised Tia didn’t eventually g
row tired of it all.”

  “She didn’t! She poured all of her energy into protecting innocent animals!” Gillian shouted. “Maybe the murderer raises cattle or works for a big chicken company and wanted to shut her up!”

  Knowing Gillian’s unhappy history involving one of the region’s chicken plants, the supper club members remained silent. That is, except for Bennett. “Woman, not all the folks in this world who breed, slaughter, or eat meat are devils. Take yours truly, for instance. I don’t lose any sleep thinkin’ about where my bacon comes from. I’m gonna buy it, I’m gonna eat it, and I’m gonna enjoy it. Does that make me bad?” He touched her hand. “The guy who killed Tia was after money. Sure, he might be a carnivore, but this isn’t about the animals, it’s about the twenty-five grand.”

  “I agree,” Lindy added gently. “Now we need to figure out who uncovered a secret she’d pay to keep hidden.”

  “Knowing the secret would help too,” James said. “If only the killer had left a single clue at the scene.”

  At that moment, his phone beeped and a text message appeared on the narrow screen. James flipped open the phone and gasped.

  His friends stared at him, concerned. “What is it?” Gillian and Lindy spoke in unison.

  “Jane sent a photo of the object obstructing Snickers’ plumbing. According to the vet, he probably swallowed this the night Tia was murdered. Look!” He placed the phone in the center of the table and everyone leaned forward to examine the image.

  “Is that a tree?” Gillian squinted at the photo.

  “A gold fir tree pendant to be exact,” James spoke quickly in his excitement. “We finally have a tangible clue.” When his friends exchanged puzzled looks, he jabbed his finger at the screen. “You’ve all seen this tree before! This fir was on every landscaping T-shirt, baseball cap, and truck owned by the late Ned Woodman.”

  “So Tia’s killer might also be Ned’s killer?” Lindy seemed dubious. “But they were nothing alike. A young female activist and a middle-aged councilman?”

  “There’s a common thread,” Lucy said, pushing back her chair. “And starting tomorrow, we’re going to find it.”

  When James got home after the supper club meeting, he found Jane riveted to the television, her eyes fixed on the foamy ocean waves surging across the screen and her hands curled around a steel mixing bowl filled with popcorn. Miss Pickles and Snickers were asleep at her feet. They both opened their eyes when James entered the room, but seeing that he was no threat nor did he bear any food offerings, both animals immediately went back to sleep. James stooped down to pet their heads and was delighted that Snickers didn’t appear any the worse for wear after the minor surgery that morning. The little schnauzer was simply sleepy, but James expected he’d be more active after a good night’s rest.

  “It’s Shark Week on the Discovery Channel,” Jane whispered and passed him a bowl of popcorn. “This episode is called ‘Blood in the Water,’ and it is deliciously scary!”

  James glanced at an image of a Great White swimming through the water with its mouth hanging open, displaying row after row of terrifying teeth. The camera zoomed in on the shark’s jaw as the narrator described the damage these triangular, dagger-like weapons could inflict on fish, seals, and humans. Nearly forgetting what he was going to say, James forced his eyes away from the awe-inspiring King of the Deep and helped himself to the cheesy, salty popcorn. “Where’s the tree? The one the vet took out of Snickers?”

  Jane didn’t even blink. Hugging a throw pillow tightly against her chest, she gestured toward the kitchen. “In a cup next to the sink. And don’t worry, it’s been cleaned.”

  The gold fir tree didn’t seem to have been damaged by Snickers’ digestive system. In fact, it shone beneath the overhead lights as though it were brand new. James placed the pendant in his palm and turned it over. There were no markings on the reverse side other than the symbol denoting that it was made of fourteen-karat gold.

  “Does this look like something a man would wear as a necklace?” James asked Jane during the commercial break. “Especially Ned Woodman, a middle-aged town councilman who owned a successful landscaping business?”

  Jane’s mouth dropped open. “The dead man you and Eliot discovered at the food festival? You think this was his?” James nodded and she took the golden tree from him and examined it beneath the lamp light. “I highly doubt he wore this,” she said. “After reading about him in the Star, I’d say he wasn’t the jewelry-wearing type. Anyway, I think it’s some kind of charm, like the ones you can attach to a woman’s bracelet.”

  Frowning, James stared at a commercial for room freshener. He watched the woman gleefully spraying the curtains in her teenage son’s room, her face lit with joy because the boy’s room now smelled like oranges instead of dirty socks. “Could it belong to Ned’s wife then?”

  “Maybe.” Jane plucked the gold tree from his palm. “But then how did it end up inside Snickers? Mrs. Woodman would have to have been—”

  “In Tia’s house.” James completed the thought and then his shoulders sagged in dejection. “But why? What connection would Donna Woodman have to Tia? And how could we find out for certain? It’s not as though we can invite her for dinner and the third degree.” He absently munched on popcorn and watched in horror as a shark began to swim toward a lone swimmer at the Jersey Shore. As soon as he set the popcorn bowl aside, Miss Pickles jumped up onto his lap and began to knead his thighs with her prickly claws.

  The shark circled once, twice, and then sank its serrated teeth into the man’s thigh. “Look at all the blood!” Jane said in delighted revulsion. As the shark continued to attack his victim, she put her finger to her mouth and tapped her closed lips. “You know, there is a way to extract information from Donna. Remember the article that ran in the Star showing the funeral photos?”

  Tearing his eyes from the carnage on the screen, James nodded.

  “Well, I remember Donna being quoted as saying she and Ned met while attending JMU. I could always call her and ask for help in forming a Quincy’s Gap alumni chapter.”

  James stared at her in amazement. “You would do that?”

  “Of course, if you think it would be beneficial. Lucy is trying her best to find who’s been messing with our family, so I’d like to repay the favor.” Jane hit the mute button on the remote control. “I’ll have to give Donna some notice, but I’ll see if she’s free for lunch this weekend. You can eavesdrop while you and Eliot construct the next phase of his Lego city.”

  Gently removing Miss Pickles from his lap, James got down on one knee and grasped Jane’s left hand. The light from the television painted her face with a soft, white glow and James’ heart swelled inside his chest as he looked at her. Words bubbled up his throat, nearly catching there before launching themselves into the air. “Will you marry me, Jane?” he asked breathlessly. “Will you be my wife again?”

  The remote slid from Jane’s right hand and clattered onto the floor. “Goodness! What’s brought this on?”

  James scrambled over to the television set and turned it off. Turning back to Jane, he reclaimed her hand and said, “It’s been building up since the day I spotted you in the crowd at that party celebrating Bennett’s Jeopardy! appearance.” He paused, forcing himself to slow down and speak clearly. “There was a time I believed that I never wanted to see you again, but even when I was boiling over with hurt and anger, part of me longed for the chance to make things right again. To go back in time and stop us from breaking apart.”

  Jane looked down in shame and James squeezed her hand until she met his gaze once more. “I’m not trying to open old wounds, sweetheart. I’m trying, in my own awkward way, to tell you that you’re the one who made things right. You and I are better now than we ever were. We are a family. You, me, and Eliot. I want us to be like this from now on.”

  “He would love that!” she whispered, her eyes shimmering.

  He gripped her hand tightly. “But this is about more than our son
or us living under one roof. I want you, Jane. Today and tomorrow and the day after that. Only you. Be my wife again. Grow old with me.”

  He waited while Jane sniffed back tears, too moved to speak. Finally, she slid her hand out of his, threw both arms around his neck, and cried, “Yes, yes, yes!”

  Jane’s tears of happiness moistened James’ cheeks and her fervent whispers of assent were stilled by his hungry kisses. She pulled James down to her on the sofa, forcing Miss Pickles to relocate. She glared at the entangled pair in annoyance and sauntered off to the kitchen.

  Later, as Jane and James did their best to cover their bare flesh with throw blankets, the newly engaged couple sipped glasses of wine and discussed the future. Their faces flushed from their lovemaking, they twined their hands together and shared whispered laughter as they recalled some of the minor disasters from the first walk down the aisle.

  “I still say the organist was drunk!” Jane giggled.

  James recalled the wobbly notes and the congregation’s startled looks. “Possibly. But there’s no doubt we had the feistiest flower girl. Do you remember how she kicked her brother in the shin as she passed by his pew?”

  “The highlight of the wedding video,” Jane said with a smile. She then sat up on one elbow. “We’ve had a big church wedding with the fancy reception and the four-tiered cake. Why don’t we go the Town Hall route this time? Keep things simple. Just between you and me. Quincy’s Gap can marry us. I say the sooner the better too.”

  James considered her suggestion in a state of drowsy contentment. “How soon?”

  “We can get the ball rolling during your Friday lunch break. We’ll need to drive down to the courthouse complex and apply for a marriage license.”

  He kissed her in reply. “We need a witness for that, if I recall. How do we choose just one person? Someone is going to feel snubbed.”