by Shari Hearn
“Cover yourself up!”
An all-too-familiar voice rang out. “What in heaven’s name!”
All eyes turned toward the kitchen door as Celia stood in the doorway, stunned. She shook her head, stepped out and stomped toward the group, her jaw hanging open. “That boy’s three-quarters naked! What kind of a party is this?”
“It was a FUN one,” one lady moaned, “until Grumpy Granny had to raise a fuss.”
“There was a mix-up,” Ida Belle said to Celia. “He was supposed to provide entertainment at Jennifer Aubois’s party.” She folded her arms and raised her brows. “As for you, I don’t recall you getting an invitation.”
“In fact, I do have an invitation.” Celia dug through her purse and pulled out a rawhide bone. “Engraved with Marge’s name and vitals. And, if I’m not mistaken, a bit of her stuffed inside. But I’m not here for the party. I’m here to have you and your two misfit friends arrested.”
Ida Belle shot a look to Gertie, who then turned away. I heard her fishing around in her purse. She gasped and turned around, a horrified look on her face. “I took the wrong bone last night,” she whispered to Ida Belle and me.
The Amazing Andrew, who’d been standing behind us, leaned in. “Teena and I could try to calm her down with our magic.”
“Knock yourselves out,” I said.
Celia addressed the crowd, pointing to Gertie. “That woman tried to poison my Coco!”
I snorted. “Coco? I thought you only drank the blood of virgins.”
“During a full moon,” Ida Belle chimed in.
“I’m talking about my dog, Coco,” Celia shouted. She shoved our rawhide bone back in her purse and pulled out her phone. “I told the deputy last night that was you in Coco’s doghouse, Gertie Hebert.” She held up her arm for all to see. “She bit me!”
Celia pointed at us. “You three left that bone in the park last night, didn’t you? I told you leaving ashes on public property was against the law in Sinful. Add that to the possibility of my dog getting poisoned on Marge’s cremains, breaking and entering Coco’s dog chalet, and biting me... You’re going down!”
She addressed the party guests. “Those of you who shoved money into that young man’s underpants, or who engaged in fighting, are also subject to arrest once the deputy arrives.”
Half of the guests scrambled around to the side yard, heading to their cars. Didi grabbed her grandson by the ear and led him away, leaving the rest of the Comfort Shoes to quickly strike their set and haul their equipment away.
“Maybe I’ll just stand here and stare at the rest of you,” Celia said to the remaining guests. Within five minutes, half of them had disappeared as well, leaving 15 Sinful Ladies whose code of Sinful Ladies Society honor required them to remain with their fallen SLS leaders.
“More cake for me!” Barb Geroux’s puppet shouted.
And Barb.
Andrew and Teena had tried to calm Celia down with a card trick, but she threatened them with arrest for practicing the dark arts and they hurried back our way.
Ida Belle sighed and addressed her troops. “Ladies, I appreciate that you all want to stay, but those of you who do want to go...” She stole a look at Celia, who stood examining her nails. “I don’t blame you. Feel free to go home.”
“I don’t mind staying and cleaning up,” Bea said. “You’ll have plenty of food left. We can all get together and have an SLS-only party for Marge tomorrow night.”
“That might be nice, thank you,” Gertie said.
Two other SLS members joined Bea on cleanup detail, folding chairs and picking up plates, cups and beer bottles.
The Amazing Andrew approached us. “Well, Teena and I are going to quickly pack up and go. Though we’ve shed our lawbreaking ways, lawmen still make us break out in hives.”
Gertie nodded sadly. “We may be joining your ranks.”
“Not if she doesn’t have the evidence,” The Amazing Andrew said, smiling. “While I distracted her with a card trick, Teena did a little switcheroo on her. You’ll find what you’re looking for in that massive purse of yours.”
Gertie casually opened her purse and looked down. “It’s our rawhide bone,” she whispered to Ida Belle and me. She looked back at Andrew. “I love you.”
Ida Belle opened her purse. “You deserve a big tip for that.”
Andrew waved her off. “It was on the house.” He pointed to Celia. “That thing is evil.”
I could feel eyes on me and turned in the direction of the kitchen. The Gidleys were watching through the kitchen door window.
“Oh crap.”
Ida Belle and Gertie followed my gaze.
“You go sit with them and go over Marge’s family stuff,” Ida Belle said. “We’re okay here, especially now that Celia doesn’t have the right bone.”
“Okay.” I patted them both on their shoulders. “I’m sorry Marge’s party turned out this way.”
They both nodded sadly.
The Gidleys were standing outside the door when I approached. “Are things okay?” Eleanor asked, worried. “We were wondering where you’d gone.”
“I’m sorry. We’ve had some... technical difficulties surrounding the party.”
“Looks like it’s over,” Barton said, leaning on his cane.
“Just cleaning up.”
Eleanor lowered her voice. “And there are two inside the kitchen who look a little upset by something.”
“Man and a woman?”
Eleanor nodded. With the melee outside, I’d temporarily forgotten about the Hoovers. I still needed to get Audrey Hoover to spill her guts to me. I put my hand on Eleanor’s shoulder. “I just want to have a word with them. I promise, after that I’ll be in the living room with you and we’ll go over Marge’s family boxes.”
“That would be lovely, dear. You don’t rush.”
I entered the kitchen to find Audrey and Scott Hoover huddled together while seated at the island.
“We’ll be waiting for you in the living room,” Barton said as he and Eleanor hurried out of the kitchen.
I nodded to Audrey, who was leaning into the island, her face ashen.
“Are you okay, Mrs. Hoover?”
I grabbed a glass from a cabinet, filled it with water from the sink and handed it to her. “Here, drink some of this.”
She shook her head.
“Drink it,” I said.
Audrey accepted the glass, took a gulp and then set the glass on the island.
Scott patted her on the shoulder. “Too much sun.”
She turned to him. “I told you I can’t do this, Scott.”
“Audrey,” he said, the tone of his voice sounding like a warning.
“Let her talk,” I said to Scott.
Audrey whipped her face toward me. It was filled with anger. “Let me talk? You’re the one who has something to say. Say it.”
“What?”
“You came by yesterday trying to pump us for information. We’ve never been invited to Marge’s birthday party. And suddenly we’re on the guest list? And from the moment we arrived, you’ve been following us. Watching us. Taunting us.”
“Audrey,” Scott said calmly, “why don’t we just go home?”
The back door flew open and Gertie and Ida Belle entered. “Carter’s on his way,” Gertie said.
Audrey glared at me. “You called the sheriff?”
“Let’s just leave,” said Scott.
“Shut up, Scott,” Audrey said. She directed her glare at me again. “You’re willing to risk arrest over this?”
That took me by surprise.
“What’s going on?” asked Ida Belle. “Audrey, what are you talking about?”
She pointed her finger at me. “You took that bag of shredded papers from our trash last night, didn’t you?”
I raised my brows. “Shredded papers?” I tried to sound innocent.
“Audrey,” Scott said, again in a warning tone.
She looked at him. “I told you no
t to stuff that bag in the trash. I went out last night after you fell asleep, and it was gone.”
She turned back to me. “It was you who burglarized our house while we were on vacation, wasn’t it?”
“Me?”
“Now you’ve gone over the deep end,” Gertie said. “You think Fortune was behind the burglaries?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. And she didn’t have to do it. Yes, we made a mistake, but we would have worked it out.”
“Worked what out? And do you think I was the one who threatened Barb Geroux with a sword? Why?”
“To cover up what it is you wanted to find at our house.”
“Are you also accusing her of murdering Gus Westerfield?” Ida Belle asked.
Audrey shook her head. Her hands began to shake. “No, of course not. I have no idea why Gus was murdered. But I am accusing her of taking advantage of Gus’s murder to intimidate us.”
“Why would I want to intimidate you?” I asked.
She didn’t answer, just continued to shake.
Gertie picked up the glass of water in front of Audrey and tried to hand it to her. “Maybe you’d better have another sip.”
Scott placed his hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Maybe she just needs to go home.”
Audrey swatted at Scott’s hand. “I need something stronger.”
“We can do that,” Gertie said as she went to the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Sinful Ladies Cough Syrup and a shot glass.
Scott sighed as he gave up trying to encourage his wife to leave.
Gertie glanced over at him and grabbed another shot glass. She gave them each a decent pour and placed them on the island. Audrey grabbed hers and downed it. After her coughing spell subsided, she asked for another shot. Scott took a sip of his and gave his head a twitch.
Gertie poured her another round and said, “What’s this all about?”
Audrey looked at me. “You didn’t rob our house?”
“No,” I said. “In fact, I’ve been following you because I thought you did it.”
“Me?”
“You’re hiding something. That’s obvious.”
“And if it’s obvious to Fortune,” Ida Belle said, “maybe it was obvious to whoever killed Gus. Don’t you think that your burglary and his murder might somehow be connected?”
Terror crossed Audrey’s face. She downed the other shot, coughed some more and looked up at me.
“You need to come clean, Mrs. Hoover.”
Chapter Eighteen
Marge
MARGE WATCHED AS ANDREW and Teena peeled away from the curb, finally convinced they would play no part in shooting Fortune. But, if not them, then who? She raced to the backyard, passing through the last of the partygoers making their exit. Bea, Edilia and Martha were stacking chairs. Celia sat in the shade waiting for Carter, tossing occasional glances of disgust at Barb who was eating forkfuls of frosting directly from the three-tiered cake.
“Where’s Fortune?”
Barb swallowed. “You know, the cake’s lousy, but the frosting’s still good.” She held up a forkful of frosting to Marge. “Want some? Your favorite I hear. Oh wait, you can’t taste anymore. Bwahahaha,” she laughed evilly.
“Where are Ida Belle and Gertie?”
“They all went inside the kitchen.”
Marge felt a tingling sensation. Another snippet was on its way.
Scott Hoover’s voice: “Audrey, what are you doing?”
A woman’s hand pulling a gun from her purse.
Marge got in Barb’s face. “Where are the Hoovers?”
Barb shrugged. “Inside, I guess.”
Marge raced through the kitchen door to find her friends gathered around one side of the island and the Hoovers seated on the other end. Audrey was opening her purse.
“It’s a gun!” Marge screamed. She rushed into Audrey as the woman pulled out a handgun.
“Audrey, what are you doing?” Scott shouted. The same words he had spoken in Marge’s premonition.
Marge’s energy provoked a momentary startle response from Audrey. Before Audrey was even able to lift the gun, Fortune had her nine pointed at the woman’s face. Gertie and Ida Belle were nanoseconds behind her, whipping out their weapons as well. Perhaps Marge’s warnings to be on alert sunk in after all.
Audrey’s eyes widened in terror at the weaponry directed her way. “Omigod. Don’t shoot. It’s not loaded.”
“Put it down on the island and slide it over to me,” Fortune said.
“Scott, I’ve got you covered,” Gertie said. “So I wouldn’t try anything.”
“I wasn’t going to.” His voice gave away his panic.
Audrey obeyed and slid the weapon across the island toward Fortune. It was the Luger. The one Marge had purchased for Ida Belle.
Scott sighed and shook his head. “Audrey. Audrey.”
“I had to do it,” she said. “It was eating me up inside. And maybe it has something to do with Gus’s murder.”
Scott took another sip of cough syrup.
Ida Belle took the gun from Fortune. “It’s a Luger. 1928. I read about this. I’m not one for antique weaponry, but this one did appeal to me.”
“Marge bought it for you,” Audrey said. “Before she died. She bought a Colt Dragoon for Gertie as well.”
Gertie looked surprised. “The Dragoon? She bought it for me?”
Audrey nodded. “She was going to wrap up the guns and leave them to you both. To be opened on her birthday. She called it a ‘parting gift.’”
“I did see a wrapped gift, my first week here,” Fortune said. She turned to Gertie. “I didn’t look at the tag. I just thought it was something Marge received but never opened.” She turned back to Audrey. “So how come you still have the Luger? And why did you think I burglarized your house? I assume they have something to do with each other.”
Audrey looked at Scott with demanding eyes. He sighed.
“Marge requested both guns several months before she passed,” Scott said. “The Dragoon was easy. We had just bought one from Gus Westerfield. The Luger didn’t come in until after Marge died. She said if she wasn’t around to accept delivery of it, we were supposed to give it to Ida Belle. Which we’re doing.”
“Ask him when he received the Luger,” Marge asked, before realizing Ida Belle was asking that same question.
“Just this week,” Scott said.
Audrey turned and slugged him in the shoulder. “It came in several days after she passed.”
“Months ago,” Gertie muttered, loud enough for them to hear. “So Marge paid you for a gun and when it came in you just decided to keep the gun and resell it.” Gertie didn’t mask the disappointment and anger in her voice. “Marge wouldn’t be the wiser because she was dead.”
Audrey didn’t answer. She looked down at the floor, ashamed.
“That’s why you thought I burglarized your house,” Fortune said. “You thought while I was doing my inventory I found some note about the gun but couldn’t find it, so I broke into your house looking for it.”
Audrey nodded.
“Why the paper shredding?” Gertie asked.
“Those were all our emails back and forth with various dealers about the Luger. And our receipt of purchase. We kept those out of Marge’s file. We thought... if Fortune ever did come looking for the gun, it would appear as if we never found one.” She looked at Fortune. “But when we discovered that Marge’s file was missing, we thought you were the one who stole it.”
Fortune’s eyes widened. “The burglar stole Marge’s file?”
Scott nodded. “As far as we can tell, that’s the only thing that was stolen, except for some cheap jewelry.”
“Did you tell Deputy LeBlanc about the missing file?”
Audrey shook her head. “We discovered it after he left our house. We thought if we brought it to his attention he’d find out we never gave the Luger to you.”
Gertie shook her head. “You two are certainly b
atting a thousand. You didn’t think it was important for Fortune to know that her aunt’s file was taken? That she might be in danger? Gus was murdered. Maybe for the gun that you ended up selling to Marge.”
“We just thought she was the one who burglarized our house,” Gus said. “We didn’t think she was in any danger.”
“Carter should be here any minute,” Gertie said. “I think it would look good if you confessed to him willingly.”
Audrey nodded. She looked at Fortune. “I’m so sorry.”
They headed out to the backyard with Ida Belle. Gertie and Fortune remained. “Well, this beats all,” Gertie said, “I thought there was something wrong with the magician and he turned out to be a former pickpocket. You suspected there was something wrong with the Hoovers and they turned out to have cheated Marge. At least we were both part right about them.”
Fortune nodded. “Do you mind if I go sit with the Gidleys? I’ve neglected them all afternoon.”
“Of course not. The party’s over.” Gertie shook her head. “Another one bites the dust. And what a disaster it was.” She sighed and headed out to the back.
Fortune moved into the living room, leaving Marge alone with her thoughts. She should be happy. Fortune was alive after having several guns pointed at her today. But something was bothering the ghost. Scott calling out, “Audrey, what are you doing?” matched what she’d heard in her prophetic snippet. And she remembers the flash of a woman pulling a gun from a purse. But Audrey’s purse was brown and the purse in her vision... Marge recalled the snippet. The purse was blue. And what about the vision of Fortune on Marge’s bedroom floor?
It wasn’t over yet.
Marge drifted into the living room where she found Fortune sitting in between Eleanor and Barton Gidley, with Marge’s family tree spread out on Fortune’s lap. Her gaze drifted down to Eleanor’s feet. Sitting next to her feet was her purse.
A blue purse.
Chapter Nineteen
IT WAS A NICE CHANGE from the chaos of the party, and it felt good to reunite Mrs. Gidley with her ancestral family. I hadn’t shared all the drama that had occurred earlier and distracted them when I saw Carter park his truck out front and head around the side yard to go talk to Celia and the Hoovers. As far as the Gidleys knew, the party had broken up and everyone had gone home.