The door opened magically and the man dressed in black beckoned for me to step out into the kitchen area.
“Give me just a moment,” he said and disappeared back into Jimmy’s dressing room.
Another man stood there, the one I’d seen with Davis Withrow at the diner. The one with all of the tattoos.
“I’m Herb Fleming,” he said, introducing himself. “I’m Jimmy’s chef.”
I nodded and smiled. “Yes, I believe I saw you at the diner with Davis Withrow,” I said.
He certainly looked the part with a clean white jacket, a fresh haircut and a neatly trimmed beard. The only thing that looked out of place were those tattoos, which appeared to be snakes or lizards or dragons.
He nodded and picked up the small plate I’d placed on the counter. “You left these pies for him?”
“Yes.”
“They’re safe?” he questioned.
It took me a moment to realize what he meant. “Yes. Absolutely. They’re made with sunflower seed butter replacing the peanut butter.”
“Nothing that touched peanut butter touched this?” he continued the questioning.
“Correct,” I said confidently. I wouldn’t take a chance knowing how allergic he is.”
He shook his head. “You don’t know the half of it.”
With that, he opened the small refrigerator to put the pies inside. One side of the small space was filled with the Accu-Click Injectors, along with several in the shelves on the door.
To say I was surprised was an understatement. “Wow,” slipped out of my mouth before I could stop myself.
“They tend to last longer if they’re kept cool,” he explained.
Before I could respond, Jimmy’s security emerged from his dressing room and gave me a little smile. “Sorry, I had to help him get ready for another guest.”
“I understand,” I said, following him back through the dark to the front of the bus. Now that I was paying attention and my eyes had adjusted somewhat to the darkness, I could see that the Accu-Click Injectors were stashed everywhere.
I heard the clutch of women waiting just outside begin to squeal before he even opened the door. And when he opened it, the screaming grew louder and they surged forward. Then they realized it was just me leaving and grew quiet. For the most part, I kept my head down, not daring to look at any of them. Anger, jealousy and something much more sinister radiated from that crowd, coming at me from all directions.
Because I wasn’t looking, I bumped headlong into a woman coming from the opposite direction. She wore the obligatory leopard print leggings and a black sweater that barely contained her upper body. She had long black hair piled high on her head, big dark glasses, and make up thick and colorful.
“Excuse me,” I said, smiling at her.
“Might want to watch where you’re going, honey,” she snorted and pushed past me.
“Madeline,” I heard one woman call out.
“Madam President,” another shouted.
When I looked behind me, she was being escorted onto the bus.
Jimmy’s next visitor.
I was just happy to get away from that bus, out into the sunshine. Across the expanse of area in front of the stage, I could see Poppy and Tom up on the bank, working to set up our booth for the show. Our colorful sign, painted by the high school art class, looked gorgeous.
“You’ve already picked up the pies?” I asked, seeing the stack of coolers underneath the booth.
“We did,” Poppy said with a little smile. “Since you were, um, detained.”
“Poppy, that little old man has fallen off the coal house one too many times,” I told her, looking around. We’d be able to watch the show and everything else going on from this vantage point.
She looked at me in surprise.
“You won’t believe what he told me,” I began.
At that point, we were interrupted by someone who went to school with us. She had been one of the popular girls, a cheerleader, who wouldn’t give us the time of day while we were in school. Now, introducing us to her husband and children, she acted like we had been best friends all along. By the time they moved on, we had customers.
By mid-afternoon, Poppy and I were so busy selling pies we barely had time to talk to each other. The little treats were getting rave reviews, not only for the taste but because they were easily transportable. I saw several families with blankets spread out in the area below waiting for the show, munching happily on our pies.
“I think we’re going to have to make these a regular on our menu,” I told Poppy.
“I think so, too,” she agreed.
The other businesses in town were busy at their booths as well and it looked like Mayor Gillespie had been right to showcase local businesses for this final day of the celebration. I spotted Tucker down the line, checking on everyone. He was smiling and interacting in that friendly, easygoing way of his that put everyone, from bad guys to little old ladies, at ease.
And, of course, Vic was trailing right behind him, taking pictures and making notes.
“Why does she just happen to show up everywhere Tucker does?” I asked and was immediately sorry I’d brought it up.
“Why don’t you ask her?” Poppy countered. “Or him?”
I ignored that comment.
“He’ll never know how you feel if you don’t tell him,” she hissed a warning in my ear.
I’d not said a word to Poppy about my growing feelings for Tucker, but she knew. She’s my best friend, after all. But I certainly wasn’t ready to share that information with Tucker.
First, I had to figure it out myself.
Giving me a warning look, she waved at Tucker as he approached. “I see you survived Axel,” she said.
“Whew, I’d hate for that guy to get hold of me without the bite suit. You know he lost some teeth and they replaced them with titanium ones?” Tucker said.
“That’s what Kellen was telling us,” Poppy said. “One scary animal.”
“Only if you’re on the wrong side of the law,” Tom reminded her. “Or don’t happen to have his favorite treat.”
“Which is what?” I asked.
“Blueberry snow cones.”
We all laughed.
“One more great officer to have on our force,” Tucker added. “Kellen loves having him as his partner.”
“Speaking of that,” Poppy said as Tom caught her hand. “We’re going after some ice cream.”
Tucker and I watched the couple walk toward Pop’s Ice Cream Shop Booth.
“You doin’ okay?” Tucker asked, turning back to me.
“Just busy,” I told him, wondering where all of our customers had gone all of a sudden. I could use some distraction right about now.
“I heard you were invited to Jimmy’s tour bus earlier.”
“I was,” I said. “He wanted a few of our little pies for himself and to talk to me about -.” I stopped myself. I’d almost shared Jimmy’s fear that someone was trying to kill him.
“About what?”
“About my grandmother,” I finished. Well, it wasn’t really a lie. He did mention her.
Tucker smiled and nodded. “She was a force to be reckoned with.”
“She did a pretty good job keeping all of us in line,” I said, and we both seemed to be lost in our own memories of her for a moment.
“We’re selling out of pies fast,” I finally said. Then I noticed the crumpled up cupcake liner in his hand and reached for it so I could toss it in our trash can for him. “How ‘bout that fudge the Lord sisters are selling?”
Tucker made a face. “I took one for the team. Yuck.”
We both laughed and I felt my tension easing away. Laughing with Tucker always felt good.
“Not enough butter or sugar to call it fudge if you ask me,” he added. “Now, those little pies of yours are amazing! I would never guess they’re not peanut butter.”
Now why would that make me blush? We were talking about fudge and pies. I
busied myself rearranging the little sunflower pies in the big cooler, picking one out for him.
“On the house,” I said.
He took it with a big grin and devoured over half of it in one bite. I shook my head, laughing as he pretended to faint after devouring the rest of the little treat.
We were quiet for a moment and then Tucker said, “Jimmy has certainly surrounded himself with some pretty stiff security.” He turned to scan the growing crowd below us. “Almost like he’s scared of something.”
“If it was me, I’d be scared of those old lady groupies,” I said, anything to change the subject.
“Yeah, now that is scary,” he agreed. “Oh, I’m pretty sure Vic is going to want to interview you for the paper, you know about actually meeting the man himself,” he said.
How would he know Vic’s plans?
I shrugged. “It wasn’t that big of a deal. I’m sure other people met him, too. I think the national president went in to see him after I left.”
“I know but give her a break. She’s just trying to do a good job for your old boyfriend,” Tucker said, giving me a teasing wink.
He was referring to the owner of our little newspaper, Joe Wheeler, who had lived in Sugar Hill briefly before moving back to New Jersey.
“I keep telling you, he wasn’t my boyfriend,” I protested.
“Ah, me thinks she doth protest too much,” Tucker continued the teasing.
I was blushing again. I hated that.
The area in front of the stage was filling up quickly. The warm up band, Hog Wash, was on stage, making sure instruments were tuned and the sound was good.
“Check. Check. Check,” boomed across the area, the lead singer at the mike.
“You look like you feel better now,” I told him, remembering how exhausted he had appeared a few days before.
“Finally got the show on the road,” he said. “And after tonight, the crowds should start thinning out and it’ll be back to business as usual.
“Yeah, it’s been fun, but it’ll be good to have our little town back to normal,” I agreed.
We stood there for a moment, that weird, awkward silence growing between us.
Loud voices from the crowd below caught our attention. It looked like two guys were arguing about something.
Tucker sighed heavily. “Duty calls,” he said.
“See you later,” I told him, knowing that he would be even busier after the show. “Be safe.”
He gave me a little salute and headed out into the crowd. I watched him go, thinking it would be good to have our peaceful little town and our lives back to normal.
Chapter Seven
Poppy and Tom returned just as the band started on their first song and we stood there in the gathering darkness listening to the music. Little twinkling lights had been strung through all the trees in the park and they were coming on, illuminating the trees one by one. It totally transformed the whole area, making it look almost magical. At the base of the stage I watched someone play with the lighting, changing the colors and bringing up a spotlight here and there.
“They’ve been practicing,” Poppy muttered when the first song ended.
I had to agree they sounded better than the last time I heard them, at the ASPCA fund raiser a few months ago which had been held in an old barn outside of town. The Dixie Cupp had donated part of the food for the event and purchased tickets so Poppy and I attended. It was fun and on my calendar to contribute next year as well.
The flickering lights reminded me that Tucker and I had slow danced to one of our favorite songs that night. When the song began, he caught my hand and pulled me out onto the dance floor. I was surprised and held back because he was in uniform and definitely on duty.
But it had been one of our favorite songs since we were in high school.
And this was a dance, after all.
I remembered how Tucker tugged at my hand. Then Poppy gave me a push from behind and the next thing I knew, we were moving slowly around the sawdust covered floor of that old barn.
It felt so good to be close to him, feel those familiar arms around me. After a few moments, I’d gathered up my courage and looked up at him. He was smiling, but his hat shadowed his face so I couldn’t see his eyes. I took a breath, opened my mouth, a heartbeat away from confessing my feelings for him. He began talking at the same time.
We both stopped and laughed.
“Go ahead,” he had said.
“No, you,” I said.
Then then the song ended and a fight broke out and he had to go to work. Part of me was sad, but a bigger part of me was glad that I’d kept my mouth shut.
I sighed.
When Poppy mentioned later that we’d looked pretty good together out there on that dance floor, I brushed her comments aside. Still, she gave me that knowing look and warned, “Don’t wait too long to tell him.”
Now Tom, Poppy and I sat on a blanket on the edge of the bank with a perfect, clear view of the stage. The band played for a good forty-five minutes with a break or two in between songs. When the last song ended, the lead singer announced their schedule for the next few weeks, mostly local bars and a few open parties. Then he said that after a short intermission, the Jimmy Bones concert would start.
The crowd applauded, whooped and began milling around a bit. Poppy and Tom snuggled together and I watched children run back and forth playing, while couples talked and laughed. It was good to see the whole community out enjoying the warm summer evening.
Once or twice I spotted Tucker. It looked as if he was double-checking the additional security his men provided. Jimmy’s security team was gathering in front of the stage, all of them wearing florescent orange t-shirts. Off to the far right of the crowd sat the rescue squad vehicle. Several EMTs were gathered nearby, lounging and yet still managing to somehow look alert.
There was commotion back behind the curtain and I imagined Jimmy’s band was getting into position to start the show. The crowd saw it, too, gathered their children and returned to their blankets and plastic chairs for this momentous occasion.
Jimmy Bones last concert, right here in his home town of Sugar Hill, Virginia.
The curtain opened and there was his band, all dressed the same, looking more like a band from Motown than from Nashville. They struck up some chords and began playing what I had recently learned was Jimmy’s theme song.
More commotion behind a curtain, off to the left this time and I held my breath. It looked like this curtain was going to open. More commotion and then it parted briefly and the man himself stepped onto the stage. Jimmy Bones strode toward center stage, smiling broadly, looking sure and confident as he waved at the crowd. This was the complete opposite of the little old man I’d seen on the bus earlier. It was clear this was where Jimmy Bones belonged.
The crowd went wild, cheering and waving and calling out his name. Beside me, Tom whistled shrilly and he and Poppy rose to their feet, both of them clapping.
Jimmy took a few more steps forward and then turned slightly. It looked like maybe someone said his name. The curtain off to the left parted a bit and someone beckoned to him. The crowd cheered even louder for our home grown celebrity when he held up one hand and stepped back toward the curtain.
There was a brief conversation with whoever had called him back and then Jimmy turned back toward the crowd.
The lights flashed across the stage and then came up slightly. They were obviously waiting for Jimmy to reach front and center stage before hitting him with the spotlight. But even from where I sat, I could see that his expression had changed.
“What’s wrong?” Poppy whispered.
“I have no idea,” I answered, keeping my eyes on that stage.
A murmur surged through the crowd. They’d seen it, too.
Jimmy was no longer smiling and appeared to be slapping his left thigh, not in time with the blaring music but wildly, erratically. Then he began clawing at his throat, looking around frantically as if in need of help
.
There was an audible gasp from the crowd, but no one moved.
The band kept right on playing the opening chords over and over.
Jimmy staggered back and forth, the sequins on his outlandish jacket flashing in the darkness. Something fell from his hand to the stage floor just as he reached the mic stand. Instead of the rich baritone that he was known for, all we heard was a gurgling, gasping sound.
“He needs help,” someone shouted.
The EMTs were already in motion. I could see their white shirts in the darkness as some of them ran toward the stage. I heard the big doors of the truck open with a loud bang.
There was a collective “Oh, no!” from the crowd
And when I looked at the stage again, the spotlights had come up but all I could see was the bottom of Jimmy’s boots, toes pointed upward. They appeared to be moving up and down, stuttering against the stage floor.
“Oh, my goodness,” Poppy gasped, leaping to her feet. “Is he having a seizure?”
I was right there beside her, my heart in my throat.
The first person to reach Jimmy was his manager, Davis Withrow, who came out from behind the curtain where Jimmy had been earlier. He knelt beside the now still figure, checking for a pulse.
The crowd rose to its feet, some people pushing toward the stage. I was simply frozen in my spot, watching it all unfold.
In the darkness, closer to the stage, all I could see was commotion and shadowy movement. I knew Tucker’s small but well-trained police force had immediately moved into place to keep anyone from getting to Jimmy before the EMTs.
The EMTs pushed through the crowd and clattered onto the stage, lugging technical looking equipment up the stairs. The man in the suit stepped aside, giving them room to work.
Tucker joined the growing crowd on the stage surrounding the still prone Jimmy Bones. As far as I could tell, he had not moved since he’d had what appeared to be a seizure. There was a short consultation and a gurney slid easily into place beside him.
Davis Withrow consulted with the EMTs and Tucker for a moment longer and then stepped to the microphone and cleared his throat.
Peanut Butter Pies & Dangerous Lies Page 5