A Gift of Bones--A Sarah Booth Delaney Mystery

by Carolyn Haines

  I glanced at Madame Tomeeka and read the same reaction on her face. There was a very good chance we might beat the eternal snot out of Will and Carla Falcon when we ran across them. Cece was one of the finest people I’d ever met. She’d suffered through high school and college, forced into a gender that didn’t fit her. And she’d saved her own money and taken action to change from Cecil to Cece. No living person had a right to judge her for that choice.

  “Do you know where Eve lives?” It was a start.

  “No, she left the area after her folks put her out. I never knew what the disagreement was about, and by the time I learned what Will and Carla had done, Eve was long gone. She was only sixteen. I hunted for her, but I never found her. I guess she changed her name and started a new life. Now she’s pregnant.”

  “That was how long ago?” Tammy asked.

  “About four years.” Cece paced the room. “I hate to dump this on you at Christmas, Sarah Booth, but can you help me?”

  My friends would show up to help me even if hell was freezing over. “You know it. Tinkie and Oscar are in Memphis at a party. I’ll get her on the case first thing tomorrow.”

  “And you won’t tell Coleman?”

  “I won’t.” My gut clenched because I knew the high consequences I might pay. I’d hidden things from Coleman in the past, and we’d vowed not to do that anymore. But Cece was my friend. She was asking me to do something that she felt was necessary. I was caught between a rock and a hard place. “When this is over and Eve is safely back, Coleman will understand why I made this choice.” I said it with certainty, but it was more prayer than fact.

  Footsteps coming across the porch told me the lawman had arrived for our rendezvous. He swept into the foyer on a wave of cold air and the smell of cut pine and wood smoke. I ran into his arms. “You smell like a camp out.” I burrowed close and inhaled. Coleman’s scent always contained a sliver of my childhood.

  “Group of teenagers decided to start a bonfire at the Olson farm. Without permission.” He took off his hat and shucked out of his heavy jacket. “Tammy, Cece, happy holidays. It’s good to see you.”

  “We were just leaving,” Tammy said. She was a worse liar than Cece, who was pretty awful. If Coleman asked what they were up to, they’d be hard-pressed not to tell the truth.

  “See you at Harold’s dinner,” Cece said as she and Tammy rushed out the front door and closed it behind them.

  “What are they up to?” Coleman eyed me. He knew suspicious behavior when he saw it.

  “Oh, Cece has some bee up her bonnet and she’s got Tammy involved. Every holiday those two have to stir something up.”

  Coleman went to the bar in the parlor and poured us both a Jack Daniel’s on ice. “Jaytee is out of town, so Cece is at sixes and sevens.”

  “Yes.” I’d learned not to add more detail when fibbing. Just to roll with the minimal lie.

  “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

  And when confronted with a chance to tell the truth, to jump on it. “No.”

  He pointed at the mistletoe I’d hung over the doorway arch. “Is that for me or some other man you’re expecting?”

  “Not telling that either.” I slowly began to back away, but Coleman was quicker, and the truth was, I wanted to be caught. I melted into the heat of his kiss.

  “Happy holidays,” I said when he finally released me, breathless.

  “I thought we were going to finish decorating the tree tonight.” He looked at the big cedar he’d put in the stand. We had the strings of multicolored lights installed. Now it was time for the three hundred or so ornaments that were the Delaney family treasures. They’d hung on every Christmas tree since Dahlia House was built, the current generation adding more and more ornaments. I thought briefly of Aunt Loulane and how she’d insisted on following the traditions my parents had set—even when I’d tried to stop her. At the time I hadn’t realized what a kindness she was doing me. She kept up the chain of simple holiday traditions that connected me to my past. I owed her far more than I could ever say.

  “Sarah Booth, are you okay?” Coleman brushed the hair from my face. “You look pensive.”

  “I’m very happy, Coleman. I just miss the things I lost so young.”

  “Your parents.”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “Let’s finish the tree.” He took my hand and led me into the parlor. In a few moments, he had me laughing as we hung the ornaments, each with a story. When we were finished, he pulled me against him. “Let’s go to bed.”

  It was the promise of a night of sweet intimacy. “I second that motion.”

  I locked the front door, using the chain I’d installed after Tinkie’s unexpected entrance had left both Coleman and me in an exposed and embarrassing situation. I needed no urging as I followed him to my bed and into his arms.

  * * *

  The next morning, I woke before Coleman and dream-walked to the kitchen, remembering some of the highlights of the previous evening. Coleman was a take-charge man, and he knew his business. When I’d first moved back to Zinnia, I’d almost climbed in the sack with him. He’d been married then, and thank goodness we’d sidestepped that situation. I’d learned that for Coleman, honor was imperative. He would never have forgiven himself, or me, if he’d broken his marriage vows to the wackadoodle Connie. His ex-wife had even faked a pregnancy in order to keep him. By the time Coleman had learned the truth about her, it was too late for us. My wounded heart had festered, and it took a lot of time to heal. Now I was ready.

  Sweetie Pie came down the stairs behind me and plopped under the kitchen table. “Aunt Loulane always said that things happen when the time is right,” I said to the dog, who gave a low, garbled little howl, and settled into a heap. She was snoring before her head touched the floor.

  I put coffee on to perk and bacon to fry and then called my partner. Tinkie was an early riser, and she answered on the second ring. “We have a case. It involves Cece.” I looked furtively around the kitchen as the bacon sizzled. “And we can’t tell Coleman.”

  “I knew it. I just knew it.” Tinkie was working up a head of steam. “I knew you couldn’t keep your word about being honest with Coleman. You know this will blow up your relationship.”

  “Wait a minute—”

  “No, you listen to me. Whatever secret you’re keeping, you’d better tell him. I mean it.”

  “Come over. And keep your lips zipped if he’s here.” I hung up and sat down at the table. Tinkie sucked the energy out of me when she got in one of her moods.

  No matter that I was annoyed, the smell of the frying bacon teased my appetite and I got out eggs and grits and bread for toasting. Nothing like a big breakfast on a cold December morning. Biscuits would be better than toast, but for some reason, whenever I stirred up a batch of cathead biscuits, they turned into hockey pucks. Safer to make toast.

  The kitchen door swung open and Coleman, hair tousled, sat down at the table. “Something smells good.”

  I passed by him and paused long enough to kiss his cheek. “Breakfast fit for a king.”

  “You’re in a good mood.”

  “How could I not be?” I felt a tiny flush as I remembered the past evening.

  “I have to escort a prisoner to the Hinds County court today. I’ll be gone until about four.”

  “Harold’s party,” I reminded him.

  “Wouldn’t dream of missing it. What’s your plan for today?”

  “Oh, not much. I’m sure I’ll get into something with Tinkie.” I forced a smile. The doorbell rang and I was, literally, saved by the bell. “That’s probably Tinkie at the front door. I left the chain on this morning.” I rushed out of the kitchen to let her in.

  Tinkie stood on the porch in a gorgeous russet duster-type coat. She wore tall boots, tight jeans, and a beautiful forest green sweater. She looked like the colors of fall walking through my front door.

  “Glad to see you learned to use a door lock.” She breezed past me
and went to the kitchen, where Coleman was stirring scrambled eggs on the stove. “Yum. I’m glad to see Sarah Booth finally got some competent kitchen help.” She looked him up and down. “And help in other departments, too. She looks like you worked out a few of her kinks.”

  “Tinkie!” I exchanged a look with Coleman as the blood rushed to my cheeks.

  “Oh, don’t play innocent.” She laughed. “You two have been lusting after each other for weeks. You know the old saying. ‘If you got an itch, you just need to scratch it.’”

  “There is no such saying.” I had to get in front of this train wreck of a conversation. “What’s Oscar getting you for Christmas?”

  “He won’t say. What’s Coleman getting you?”

  “I don’t know.” I was dying to find out, though. I loved presents. It was just the idea of a surprise that someone else picked out for me. My family had never been much for huge expensive gestures. We focused on intimate gifts with meaning.

  “I hope it’s more of what he gave you last night. You look more relaxed than I’ve seen you in days. But how in the world is he going to put a bow on that?”

  Coleman had toasted some bread and he quickly made a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich and filled a go cup with coffee. “I’m out of here. You women are too bawdy for a man of the law. I don’t want to have to arrest Tinkie for lewd and lascivious behavior.”

  “Oh, you’d love that.” Tinkie held out her hands. “Sarah Booth tells you her fantasies of handcuffs, doesn’t she?”

  “Tinkie!” I was going to gag her on the spot. “Give it a rest.”

  “Did you say arrest?” She almost cackled.

  “I’ll call later.” Coleman took his coffee and his sandwich and beat a hasty retreat.

  “You practically drove the poor man out into the cold morning without breakfast,” I told her.

  “Don’t act so innocent. At least I’m not deceiving him like you are.”

  And she had me there. “Cece won’t let me tell him and it involves her relative.” I gave her the details of Eve’s abduction. “Cece is afraid that if I tell Coleman, the kidnapper will know she brought in the law. She’s afraid Eve will be hurt.”

  Tinkie’s foolishness had evaporated. “This is serious,” she said. “Cece has put you in a bad spot.”

  “And one I’ll honor. She’s my friend and has been for many years.”

  “And Coleman is your lover and the sheriff.” Tinkie didn’t mince any words.

  “And he would do exactly what I’m doing—honor his word to his friend.” That was one thing I knew about Coleman.

  “Okay, so then what are we going to do?” Tinkie asked. “After we eat this sumptuous breakfast.” She got a plate and began to help herself.

  I followed suit and then we both sat at the table and ate. “We have to pay a visit to Carla and Will Falcon, Eve’s parents. And then we’ll find out where she lives, where she’s working, and backtrack from there. We have to find out who knew enough about her to believe Cece would pay a ransom for her.”

  2

  The farm where Will and Carla Falcon lived sprawled across forty acres of freshly turned land. Will farmed as a hobby, growing row crops that Carla put up and pickled and sold at local markets during the summer months. Will’s primary job was as a data analyst for a financial company. He fit the stereotype to a tee. Nerdy glasses, inkblot on the pocket of his long-sleeved plaid shirt, rumpled khakis, and hair askew. Carla, who was thin and bitter, did all the talking.

  “We haven’t seen Eve in years. She has nothing to do with us. Whatever she’s done is her own problem.” Carla blocked the door like a ninety-pound woman of steel. “Go away.”

  When she tried to slam the door in Tinkie’s and my face, I’d finally had enough. I grabbed the door and stepped into the entrance of the house. “We came to talk about Eve. She’s been kidnapped and we’re trying to help her.”

  “Kidnapped?” Carla looked completely blank, as if she’d never heard the word. “Who would take Eve? She’s useless. Are they asking a ransom?” She snorted. “Good luck with that.”

  Standing beside me, Tinkie grew angrier and angrier. I could practically feel her swelling with fury. Any minute she was going to bust. And it would not be pretty.

  “Do you know where Eve was living?” I pushed ahead with my questions.

  “She dropped out of high school and took off. I heard she was in Memphis with a bunch of those horrid people wearing black clothes and piercing their lips and nipples.” Carla was almost as angry as Tinkie. I was standing next to two time bombs.

  “Do you have relatives in Memphis? Anyone she might have contacted?”

  “No. She is the devil’s spawn. As far as I’m concerned, whoever has her can keep her and good riddance.”

  “Ma’am, she is your daughter. Your pregnant daughter.” Tinkie was standing on her tiptoes to get in Carla’s face. I put a hand on her shoulder and felt coiled steel. She was ready to spring.

  “What would you know about it?” Carla said. “She was a disappointment from the day she came into this house. She’s a little slut with the morals of a cat in heat. Right, Will?”

  Will was staring out the door as if he was listening and watching an entirely different scene unfolding. He didn’t respond to Carla’s question, but that didn’t slow her down with her complaints against Eve. “We gave her every chance, and she blew every single one.”

  “Like Cece, she’s just a terrible disappointment to your family?” Tinkie’s fists were clenched. I was prepared to tackle her if she took a swing. “You judge people harshly, but can you stand up to such rigorous scrutiny?”

  “I obey God. I fear no man’s judgment because I will be judged by the Lord himself, and he will find me righteous.”

  “But not very loving,” Tinkie said.

  I had to get my partner out of there before she did something that would land her in the hoosegow. And likely sued for a ton of money.

  “You get out of my house.” Carla pointed at the door, her bony little finger shaking. “Out!”

  “Gladly,” Tinkie said, marching out the door and down the steps so fast I had to run to catch up with her. Will followed me outside.

  “We’ll check in at Memphis. See if we can pick up her trail.”

  “She was good with numbers,” Will said. “And smart. Eve is smart. She’d be a good bookkeeper or maybe—”

  Before he could finish, Carla screamed for him to come back inside. As soon as he cleared the jamb, Carla slammed the door.

  Tinkie spun like a dervish. Digging into her purse, she pulled out a long, wicked nail file. Before I knew what was happening, she ran across the yard to the Falcons’ nice new car and began to stab the front tire with her nail file. “Take that!” She stabbed as hard as she could.

  I got to her in time to pull her back before she punctured the tire. I didn’t think it was possible with a nail file anyway, but I didn’t want to take any chances of having her arrested for destruction of property.

  “I should have stabbed her in the throat!”

  I couldn’t argue that, but I also had to calm Tinkie down. “Look, let’s find Eve and then worry about beating up Carla Falcon.”

  “You promise we can beat her up?”

  I considered. “Yeah. I promise. I’ll help.” In the months of our work as detectives, our roles had slightly reversed. Normally I was the emotional one, and Tinkie was the responsible, calm, ladylike partner. Now she was almost frothing at the mouth.

  I managed to get Tinkie in my car. While I drove, Tinkie put her phone on speaker and called Cece. “Carla is a piece of work,” Tinkie said. “What kind of job do you think Eve might have taken?”

  “She was good with numbers.” Cece confirmed what Will Falcon said.

  “Call the big accounting firms and the banks in Memphis, please,” I requested. Cece had a computer and a phone at her desk at the Zinnia Dispatch. “It’s like a needle in a haystack but if we can find where she worked, we’ll have a
hot trail, I hope. Carla and Will were useless.”

  “Worse than useless I suspect,” Cece said. “Will has no backbone and Carla has no heart. Anyway, I talked with Zeedie Adams, one of Eve’s childhood friends. She said Eve had gotten her GED and had gone into banking. She worked as a loan officer at a branch of the Bank of the Deep South in Cleveland, Mississippi.”

  “Thanks.” That was a big help. “Did Zeedie know anything else?”

  “No,” Cece said. “They haven’t spoken in a while. She ran across Eve in Memphis, where Eve was training at the bank and going to night classes.”

  “Then Zeedie doesn’t have a clue who the baby’s father might be?” Tinkie asked.

  “No.”

  “Thanks, Cece.” Tinkie hung up and when we came to a juncture of two county roads, I took a left to head for Cleveland. It was as good a place as any to start looking.

  “I didn’t ask Cece about the ransom money,” Tinkie said. “Oscar has agreed to give her as much as she needs, but I didn’t want to put her on the spot.”

  I reached across the seat and patted Tinkie’s shoulder. “You and Oscar are the most generous and kind friends.”

  “You would do the same.”

  I had to chuckle at that. I lived on a month-to-month basis of paying house repairs, taxes, and bills. It would be a miracle if I ever had ten grand I could give away, much less more than a hundred thousand. “Hopefully we’ll figure out who has Eve and rescue her without having to give them a dime. Their payoff will be a long prison term.”

  We rode through the flat Delta in silence for a while, passing wrought-iron archways to plantations decorated with magnolia and cedar garlands, colored lights, and in a few instances the blow-up Christmas characters that Tinkie loathed. She called them cartoon Christmas.

  “They’re an example of what’s wrong with our society. Folks buy some crappy decoration at the store and stick it in the yard and think that’s a good thing. Decorating is supposed to be family and friends gathering, good times, making memories. What kind of a memory can you make by taking two minutes to stick a bloated, ugly Santa on the grass and turn on something to fill him with air?”