In High Cotton

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In High Cotton Page 3

by Kelsey Browning


  “We don’t even know where to start,” Maggie said.

  “I do.” Abby Ruth absently tapped a toe of her boot as if in deep thought. “When I looked at the paper Colton brought, I not only got a look at that ugly sheep, but also saw the folks with crummy taste who bought it live down in Palm Beach. I say a trip to Palm Beach is in order. I could probably get a flight out of Atlanta first thing in the morning.”

  Teague glanced back at them.

  Sera smiled and waved, trying for nonchalance and hoping Teague hadn’t overheard their conversation. He’d be half crazy if he thought Abby Ruth planned to solve this on her own. “Shh. He’ll hear us.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Maggie said. “We can’t afford to fly to Palm Beach. Do you know how much three plane tickets would cost?”

  “Who said anything about the three of us?” Abby Ruth said. “I can zip down there by myself.”

  Unleash Abby Ruth on the good people of Florida? “No offense, but I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Sera said. “Maybe I could drive us.”

  “No!” Maggie and Abby Ruth said at the same time.

  “Oh, wait.” She dug into her back pocket and held a fat wrinkled number ten envelope by the corners. “Maybe this will help.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Hollis Dooley gave it to me.”

  Abby Ruth grinned. “A love letter.”

  “Why do you always have to go there?” She slipped her finger under the edge and ripped open the envelope. “Holy wow!”

  “What?”

  She tipped the envelope their way and thumbed the edges of a pile of hundred dollar bills.

  Abby Ruth raised a hand toward where Teague and Colton were still talking in the driveway and hollered, “Gotta get inside for some of Sera’s tofu stew before it goes bad. Y’all have a good night, you hear?”

  “Come on.” Maggie motioned Sera and Abby Ruth inside, and they hightailed it through the back door of the house and into the kitchen.

  The sound of two cars cranking penetrated the walls. Sera raced to the front of the house to look out the parlor window. “They’re gone.”

  “How much money is that and why the hell is Hollis Dooley giving it to you?” Abby Ruth demanded. “I swear that old curmudgeon is in love with you.”

  “Stop it! Love would give him a heart attack. Walker yoga is about to do him in as it is. He wants us to look into a situation for him.”

  Maggie’s gaze went to the envelope Sera still held. “You mean investigate something?”

  “You have to admit we’re getting pretty good at hunting down people who aren’t on the up and up,” Sera said. “He seemed pretty impressed with us. If we could make some money at it, maybe we could pay for Summer Haven’s upkeep. It would be our way of thanking Lillian for letting us live here while she’s away. And maybe we could afford to send Abby Ruth down to Palm Beach.”

  “Lord, this place is a never-ending project.” Maggie sighed.

  “What the heck does Hollis want us to do?” Abby Ruth paced around the perimeter of the room. “Whatever it is, it better be fast because I don’t think Colton wants to stand in line behind someone else.”

  Sera sucked in a breath, then rushed out, “He thinks someone is stealing trash from the dump.”

  Abby Ruth barked a laugh. “That’s bass-ackwards.”

  “I know it sounds silly, but Hollis is really upset.”

  “We can’t investigate missing trash. After taking down a couple of real scam artists? Talk about a demotion.”

  Sera winced. “I already promised we would, and from the heft of this envelope, I think he’s willing to pay for results.”

  “Hollis has obviously lost it. You don’t give…” Abby Ruth trailed off. “Wait a minute. Just how much money?”

  Sera fanned the hundred dollar bills across the kitchen table like a Vegas blackjack dealer, then counted. She slowly lifted her head. “Thirty-two.”

  “Hundred? Where the heck did he get that kind of money?” Maggie stared down at the money pile as if it were a big bowl of hot fudge and caramel covered ice cream. With pecans on top.

  “I have no idea,” Sera said. “He gets Meals on Wheels, for heaven’s sake. I thought he was living off Social Security like most of the people I deliver to.”

  “Something’s not right here.” Abby Ruth kicked one foot across the other and leaned against the wall, suspicion swarming over her face. “That’s too much bank to track down missing milk cartons and juice containers.”

  “I know he’s probably overreacting,” Sera agreed. “But it’s serious to him. And the money? I think it’s a bribe to keep us from mentioning any of this to his kids or Teague. Hollis doesn’t want them to think he’s gone senile. They took the keys to his car, and now he thinks they’re going to make him move into Dogwood Ridge Assisted Living.”

  Maggie’s eyes softened. “What an awful feeling to have your children start stripping away your freedom. First the car. What next? He probably should be worried.”

  “Yeah, he sounds downright desperate.” Abby Ruth’s smile was sharp and predatory. “And far be it for us to tell a desperate man no.”

  Chapter 3

  Lord, the early morning trip from her cottage to the courtyard had never taken Lillian so long. This pretending to be old and feeble was already exhausting. But it could be so worth the pain.

  She gazed down at one of the recently replanted flowerbeds. All the work they’d done for the Bureau of Prisons inspection was beginning to pay off in new growth. But even though it was only the last week in March, the darned beds already had chickweed growing in them. Too bad the warden hadn’t allowed them to mulch the way Martha had suggested.

  Lil made a show of holding her back with one hand and bracing herself against the building to ease herself to her knees. Once kneeling, she was careful not to attack the weeds sprouting around the rose bushes that would bloom pink, yellow and white in a few weeks. Instead, she acted as if it was hard to grasp the individual plants and pull. No yanking. That would give her away.

  When she’d gone to Warden Proctor this morning to mention how severe her arthritis was becoming, the warden had made a hmming noise and sent her to the infirmary. After a rather long consult with the staff doctor, he’d sent her back to the warden. Worried they knew she was trying to pull the wool over on them, she’d nearly died of hyperventilation sitting outside the warden’s office. Wouldn’t that be unfair? She sure didn’t want to get out of prison that way.

  But as luck would have it, the warden had promised they’d keep an eye on Lillian’s health and if there was no improvement, they could talk about a compassionate release.

  Compassionate release. It was a real program. Martha was right…again. And with a chance at release, Lil had walked out of the warden’s office fully committed to the charade.

  Which meant she had to put on a good show 24/7.

  Everyone—even she—needed to believe the pain in her joints was becoming more and more unbearable by the minute. But that also meant it had taken her three times as long to weed this tiny section of flowers than it should’ve. But then it wasn’t like she had anywhere else to be.

  Martha strode out of the main building, obviously in a chipper mood since she’d had someone stop by for visiting hours. Too bad Maggie and the others couldn’t come to visit Lil every week, but it just wasn’t realistic. Not with the hour and a half hour drive between here and Summer Shoals and all the upkeep Summer Haven demanded.

  “You got a visitor,” Martha said. She walked closer and leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Make it look like this hurts.” Louder she said, “Let me help you up there, Miss H&M.”

  Lil held out her hand. When Martha pulled her to her feet, she let out a groan that sounded as fake as a pro wrestling grunt. How anyone was buying that she was old and feeble was beyond her. But Martha was always here to keep her in role. “Maggie came today?”

  “No, dark hair and same kind of shirt she always wears with t
hose barnyard animals stitched all over it—alpacas, maybe? But this is some other chick.”

  An uneasy feeling burrowed under Lil’s skin. Some other woman? Lillian only had three people registered on her visitors’ list—Maggie, Sera and Abby Ruth. “Could something have happened to Maggie? Is it her daughter, Pam, coming to give me the bad news?”

  “I don’t know, but calm down, and remember,” Martha said, “don’t walk too fast. Make it look like every step could be your last.”

  Lord, between the tiny steps she had to take and the lingering smell of the wintergreen-scented arthritis cream she was rubbing into her skin like it was some kind of French lotion, Lil was already half-sick of pretending she was sick.

  Still, she replayed Martha’s nagging voice in her head the entire way down the long hallway toward the visitors’ room. All this time and itty-bitty steps for a visitor who wasn’t even there to see her. But when she entered the room, the guard on duty waved a hand toward a table on the opposite end and said, “She’s been waiting a good quarter hour.”

  But who was she?

  As Lil minced her way closer to the woman, who had her head down and face averted, the whole thing became more and more odd. Her hair was dark like Maggie’s but without the sprigs of gray that sometimes sprouted here and yon. She was, however, wearing an appliquéd shirt. Lil squinted. No, those weren’t alpacas. They looked more like emus. And rhinestones on the collar? Those weren’t exactly Maggie’s speed.

  And although Maggie had slimmed down lately, this woman looked like a stringy flank steak to Maggie’s rump roast.

  And something about the way the woman’s skinny fingers drummed the table made Lil want to hurry over and slap a hand across them to stop the restless movement. She controlled herself for the sake of show. She was still a half-dozen scuffling steps from the table when the woman looked up and turned in her direction. “Hello, Lillian.”

  She didn’t have to fake it this time when she grabbed for the wall to steady herself, because her legs had turned the consistency of the cafeteria’s tapioca pudding. Shock and fear would do that to a body. How she forced herself to pull on a social smile, she wasn’t quite sure.

  Then again, she wasn’t part of the Summer family for nothing. The Summers were known for having plenty of backbone. But it took every bit of spine Lillian had to pull out the chair and carefully settle herself before addressing the last person she ever wanted to find her here at Walter Stiles. “Well, this is certainly a nice…surprise, Angelina.”

  Nice? Lillian struggled to keep the pleasant smile pasted on her lips. There was absolutely nothing nice about a surprise visit from Angelina Broussard. Lord, Lil’s momma had taught her not to be a liar. After all, Daddy had been the most honest man in Bartell County back in his day.

  And this whopper of a lie would likely send Lil straight to H-E-double-L. Inside her chest, her heart was playing those crazy X-Games she’d watched on the rec room TV. Kids on skateboards and bikes and skis, just begging for a broken neck.

  Angelina’s toothy smile was wide and wicked. “Isn’t it? It’s been so long since you and I have had a chance to visit. I thought a little girl time was in order.”

  So they were going to pretend all the way around, were they?

  Lil circled a finger in the general vicinity of Angelina’s chest, taking in the horrible sequined animal scene sewn onto her cotton shirt. “I must say, this is a new look for you. Maggie’s obviously become a fashion maven in Summer Shoals.”

  Angelina’s smile had more bite than balm. “Desperate times. But then again, you know all about desperation, don’t you?”

  For the first time in her well-born life, Lil wanted to lunge across the table and wrap her hands around someone’s neck. What would it feel like to take Angelina down to the ground and wring her like a stubborn chicken?

  Heck of it was, if she jumped and wrung like that, the arthritis hoax would be all over.

  So Lillian inclined her head toward the badge on Angelina’s shirt. The badge labeled Margaret Rawls. “I’m sure Maggie didn’t let you borrow her property, and last I checked theft was a crime.” Lil leaned in a little and tilted her head. “Maybe you’re interested in renting a room at Walter Stiles.”

  “Very funny.”

  “It probably won’t be when I have the guard check your handbag for your real identity.” Lil made to rise, but her required slo-mo gave Angelina enough time to clamp a manacle hand around her wrist.

  “I know you don’t like to make a fuss.” Angelina’s broad smile was as fake as Hollis Dooley’s teeth. “That’s just not the Summer family way, now is it?”

  On second thought, Maggie had caused quite a stir at the prison when she’d lost that badge over the holidays. What if the warden wouldn’t allow Maggie to visit again if she found out about this ID switcheroo? Lil didn’t know how closely the guards kept track of how many times a visitor lost a badge, but if they somehow realized Maggie created another security breach it would be bad news. Lil sure wasn’t about to bring it to their attention. What a teetotal mess. Lil edged back into her seat, lifted her chin, and forced a casual note into her voice. “Since I can’t serve you tea and cookies, I assume you’re here for some other reason.”

  “I expected you to explain. Or at least defend yourself,” Angelina said.

  Lil simply gave her a tight smile and waited. Angelina wanted something, and Lil wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of asking what that something was.

  “I see prison hasn’t changed your high and mighty ways.”

  Lil’s right eye gave a twitch. From Angelina’s mouth, high and mighty sounded like some of the salty vocabulary Lil had learned here in prison. “Good manners are never out of place.”

  Angelina eyed Lil’s prison getup, distaste clear from the way the corners of her lips pulled downward. Lil often made the same expression when she caught sight of the yellowish khaki on blueish khaki ensemble in the mirror. “How does it feel to have fallen so far from grace?”

  The way Lil was grinding her teeth together to maintain her composure, she’d be making an emergency appointment with the prison camp’s dentist. “I believe in being accountable.”

  “And what is it you have to be accountable for?” Angelina asked. “I find it terribly interesting you started all this vacationing right around the time another Summer Shoals resident was arrested for Social Security fraud. But surely a member of the Summer family wouldn’t stoop so low as to become involved with something like that.”

  Any hope Lillian had that Angelina was still in the dark about why she was here caught fire and poofed like ash. The woman might be a royal pain in the patootie, but she was a smart one. Too smart.

  “Can you imagine what your friends and neighbors would say if they not only knew where you’ve spent the past nine months but also learned you’d been stealing from them?”

  “Now wait just a minute. I didn’t—”

  “Those Social Security checks were taken out of Bartell County mailboxes. Can you honestly sit there and tell me you had nothing to do with that?”

  Lillian built a mental shell around herself to deflect Angelina’s barbs because they were coming so close to making her lose her cool. And even though she’d promised herself she wouldn’t, she asked, “What do you want?”

  Angelina sat back, the expression on her face pure I’m-the-cat-and-you’re-the-canary. “Oh, I want so many things.” She looked toward the ceiling and tapped her crimson lips with a well-manicured fingertip.

  Lil glanced away, trying to temper her jealousy at the perfection of Angelina’s nails. Of all the things to think about when much bigger trouble was brewing. Lil couldn’t fathom everyone in Summer Shoals knowing she was a jailbird. Yes, she’d come to terms with her fate, even embraced it to some extent.

  But there was accountability, and then there was humiliation.

  “For instance, I wanted to head up the historical preservation committee.” Tap, tap, tap. “But I got that.”


  Yes, but she hadn’t been able to strike Summer Haven from the register no matter how hard she’d tried.

  “And I wanted to be the president of the Summer Shoals Junior League.” Tap, stroke, tap. “Oh, but I got that too.”

  The way Lil was gripping her hands together under the table, her knuckles really were aching.

  “But you know what I don’t have? I don’t have a one-of-a-kind car. I’d use it for very special occasions, and my husband would look so handsome riding next to me in town events. I’m sure you’re about ready to hand off those duties anyway, aren’t you?”

  If Lil thought her hands were aching, they were nothing compared to the throbbing pain in her midsection. Angelina wanted Daddy’s Tucker Torpedo. An extremely rare car, and one of the only convertibles in the world. “I heard that guy over off Old County Line Road often buys collectible hot rods at auction down in Florida.”

  “Please don’t play dumb.” Angelina leaned on the table, pushed her face so close to Lil’s that Lil could see her Botox handiwork up close. By the time Lil got out of here, she’d need a ton of that stuff pumped under her skin to get rid of all the stress lines around her own mouth and eyes. “It only insults us both.”

  Angelina had to know how much losing the Tucker would tear Lillian up inside. Everyone in Summer Shoals knew how much that car meant to her. “I…I need some time to think about this.”

  “Really?” Angelina’s brows winged up into the bangs fluffed to look like Maggie’s. “Then I suppose I need some time to think about the situation as well. And sometimes when I’m in a thinking mood, I also get into a talking mood, if you know what I mean.”

  “Hold your wild horses, Angelina. I need to consider a few things. A week or so,” Lil said quickly, trying to keep the panic out of her voice and failing miserably. “I’ll let you know something by the end of next week.”

  “No.” Angelina stood and looked down at Lil, making her feel like a chastised child. “You’ll call me by Monday. You know how small towns are. Doesn’t take any time at all for gossip to spread like wildfire. Don’t make me strike a match.”

 

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