Authors: Virginia Brown
Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Women Sleuths, #Contemporary Women
Dixie Diva Blues (48 page)
Or so I said to Bitty.
“Oh, get the stick out of your rear,” she said to me in her usual tactful way, “and try on this jumpsuit.”
We stood in the middle of the shack we’d rented before, getting ready for our big night. I looked at it doubtfully. I’m not a prude, really I’m not, but this jumpsuit Bitty had made especially for me—after reminding me that I’d voted to show up in character when she wanted to do Lady Gaga instead—was really tight, and cut really low in the cleavage area. After I’d squeezed my size twelve tall Misses body into what I was pretty sure was a size 10 Juniors Spandex bodysuit, I couldn’t move. Or breathe. My flesh was constricted so tightly that my Playtex Living Bra strangled and died. I gasped for air.
“Perfect,” said Bitty. “You look just like Lucy Liu. If she was six feet tall, had orange hair and size twelve feet.”
I hoped my gaze was withering since I was pretty much defenseless stuck in that blasted Spandex nightmare. “My hair . . . not orange,” I got out, though I had to privately admit that it hadn’t come out the light auburn shade that I’d planned. That’s the trouble with hair color bought at Walmart, I’d been told by my unsympathetic cousin.
Bitty cocked her head and cupped a hand behind her right ear. “What’s that you say, Tin Man? Oil can? Why, I believe you’ve rusted.”
As far as I was concerned, she was taking the joke a little too far. I made a rather awkward movement with my right arm that she correctly interpreted as dismissive. She smiled.
“If I leave, you’ll have to stand there until I come back. Unless I give you the oil can. “
She was enjoying this far too much and I said so. She nodded. “I know. Here. Turn around and let me see how it fits in the back.”
There was a long moment of silence after I managed to shuffle in a half-circle for her inspection. “Well,” she said finally, “it fits you much better than I’d thought it would. Just stand with your back to the wall when you can.”
“Okay,” I said, “you’ve made your point. You wanted to be Lady Gaga. I get it. Now stop sulking and trying to make me feel bad.”
“Okay. Really, it looks rather nice on you, Trinket. Who would have thought you’d be able to pull it off?”
I narrowed my eyes at her just in case she was still being sarcastic, but she went on, “We have to hurry. I want us to be the first ones in the Cotton Gin.”
“You mean music hall.”
“Whatever. We’ve got this entire place to ourselves, just all of us Divas, and I think this is going to be the best Halloween yet.”
“I hope so. It’s been a long time since I’ve dressed up in a costume for it.”
“See? You know you’ll have a good time.”
“If I don’t pop right out of this jumpsuit, I will,” I muttered as I took a clumsy step forward. “Are you sure these boots look right?”
Shiny black knee-high boots clung to my calves over the already binding Spandex so that I felt like a walrus stuffed into a plastic bag. And I creaked when I walked, like the Tin Man in the
Wizard of Oz.
Darn that Bitty.
“They’re fine,” Bitty said without looking at me. “Do you think she looks like Charlie?” Chen Ling wore a small business suit meant to look like a man’s but really resembling something more along the lines of an ill-garbed zombie. A tiny toy phone had been sewn to the front of it so that it would look like the dog was dialing. A Fedora sat atop her furry little head, and the dog wore a sour expression that plainly said, “HELP ME!”
“Exactly like Charlie would look if we’d ever seen him,” I lied. “She could have gone as Bosley, you know.”
“Oh no, she’s much more suited to be Charlie,” said Bitty as she fussed with the pug’s attached phone. “There. We’re all ready now, so let’s head on over there.”
I eyed my cousin’s attire critically. She was dressed in a pair of slim polyester pants and a silk blouse. A toy gun peeked out of her slacks. At least, I hoped it was a toy.
“I thought we were dressing up like the movie version,” I said. “If I’m Lucy Liu now, don’t you have to be Drew Barrymore? Where’s
your
Spandex?”
“Honestly, Trinket, you’re always complaining. Ah. Here’s Rayna. Just look at the two of you! Just like the movie!”
Rayna wore Spandex as well, and looked just as uncomfortable as I did. Bitty had only the simple slacks and silk blouse, with her blonde hair combed into wings in the old Farrah Fawcett style. With her hands planted on her hips, Rayna said, “Oh no. You’re not getting out of this. If we have to wear Spandex, so do you.”
“You two voted to be Angels. You are. I wanted to be Lady Gaga, but graciously gave in to keep you both happy,” said Bitty. “So this is my Angel costume.”
Rayna smiled. “It’s a good thing I know you so well, Bitty Hollandale. I have just the thing for you to wear in my overnight bag. Wait here . . .”
By the time the three of us made our way across the fading grass between the shacks to the gin, we were all three in costume as the movie versions of the Angels. It had been a bit of a delay convincing Bitty she had to conform, but she was now dressed in Spandex and just as breathless as we were. It warmed my heart to see it.
When we reached the cotton gin made into a music arena, I saw Deelight Tillman and Cindy Nelson approaching the wide doors. Their shack was closer than ours. To my amusement and Bitty’s horror, Deelight was dressed like Lady Gaga. I knew it had to be her because the costume was so outrageous. I spared a moment’s gratitude that she hadn’t dressed in the meat costume once worn by the performer as a statement against eating meat. Chen Ling would have chewed off our arms trying to get to her if she’d done that.
“Oh, look at you three!” exclaimed Cindy. “You’re Charlie’s Angels!”
Deelight squinted at Chitling and said doubtfully, “Is she supposed to be Yoda from
Star Wars
?”
I pretended to cough to disguise my laugh, while Rayna suddenly had to tie the laces on her boots. Bitty glared at poor Deelight.
“No, this is Charlie. See the phone? The hat?”
“Oh. I didn’t know Charlie wore a hat. Does he wear a hat?”
Cindy said, “I don’t think he wore a hat. We can ask Gaynelle, though. I see her coming around the corner.”
Gaynelle said curtly, “Certainly not. Charlie was played by John Forsythe in the TV series, and hats were out of fashion in the seventies.”
“But they’re characters from the movie,” Deelight pointed out. Gaynelle held firm. No hat.
Bitty said, “I need a drink,” and stomped inside the Cotton Gin.
The rest of us giggled a little bit and followed her. Sometimes it’s nice that Bitty doesn’t get the last word.
The old cotton gin was decorated up for the Halloween festivities with pumpkins, black cats, witches, brooms, and a few dangling skeletons here and there. Spider webbing swooped over a few tables, and the long buffet table was loaded down with food we’d brought for the occasion. As well as a few cases of our favorite beverages, of course. We’re not shy.
Of course, when the rest of the Divas arrived, we had a fine time guessing each other’s costumes. Some were obvious, like Marcy Porter’s Jessica Rabbit from the cartoon movie. She’d lost her baby weight, because she looked fabulous in a red fitted dress and bunny ears.
Sandra Dobson wore—no surprise here—a nurse’s costume, complete with a cap and stethoscope around her neck. She carried a gigantic syringe around with her that got a lot of mock fear. Carolann Barnett wore a medieval costume that included a huge ring with a hinged lid to hide poison should she feel so inclined, and Rose Allgood wore an elegant gown that accentuated her slender frame, and glass slippers. They weren’t really glass but plastic, but the inference was obvious. Cinderella had made it to the ball.
By the time Divas had worked our way through half a buffet and case of wine, we were ready for about anything. So the arrival of a deliveryman with a huge cake, a vase filled with a dozen roses, and the biggest box of candy I’d ever seen seemed like the hand of Fate providing us with entertainment.
The deliveryman was quickly surrounded by almost a dozen inebriated Divas, and his eyes got so wide they looked like punctuation marks on white paper. He stammered a little bit, but finally was able to convey the message that the delivery was to Rayna Blue.
Rayna let out a squeal of excitement. “For me? From who?”
Being a little tipsy, she stumbled into the deliveryman, who had his arms full and was backing toward the exit. He wore a brown uniform like a UPS employee, and a sudden look of concern on his handsome face.
“Oh no,” said Gaynelle, and snagged the guy by one arm. “You’re supposed to deliver the goods so—deliver!”
I had to laugh. I’d never heard Gaynelle say anything so racy, and suspected there were uncharted depths to her that I’d never guessed existed. The deliveryman inched his way toward a table that held the remnants of our feast, managed to set down the cake and box of candy, and then turned to give the flowers to Rayna.
“I have a message to give you, too,” he said, and I was sure I heard a nervous tremor in his voice when he began to recite, “To the Dixie Divas—twice as good as chocolate, and ten times better than Charlie’s Angels.”
Everyone applauded at that, and I saw Marcy Porter put two fingers in her mouth and give a piercing whistle.
“Who sent them?” asked Bitty over the noise.
I already knew who must have done it, so wasn’t surprised when the guy said Rob Rainey had ordered the delivery. Of course, we all clapped some more and shouted our congratulations to Rayna for having proved her point quite nicely. She grinned from ear to ear.
At some point, the delivery guy produced a boom box and set it down on the table. About the same time he hit the button on top, it hit me what he intended. Music blared as our personal UPS man grabbed the front of his shirt and tore it off in a smooth motion accompanied by the unmistakable sound of Velcro coming apart. It all became quite clear. Ah. Rob knows us so well.
Gaynelle’s eyes glazed over immediately, and I thought for a moment that she was actually going to leap on the young man performing intriguing dance moves. His chest muscles flexed and rippled, and when the pants came off in a fluid motion of parting Velcro and taut, tanned skin, Cady Lee Forsythe let out a whoop of delight. Cindy Nelson’s mouth opened and stayed that way, Deelight Tillman began to wheeze quite loudly, and Bitty absent-mindedly set Chen Ling/Charlie on the buffet table. I thought I heard what can only be described as a puggy chuckle, but I might be wrong. Dogs can’t laugh.
At any rate, our Halloween celebration turned into a very festive night for the Divas.
I can’t say any more than that, of course, since what happens with the Divas, stays with the Divas, but I will reveal that all the TV commercials I’ve heard are right: UPS
really
delivers!
(Continue reading for a not from the author
AUTHOR’S NOTE
The Shack Up Inn and Strawberry Plains are actual attractions. You can find more information about them on the Internet. The murder at the Robert Clay shack is a fictional one, of course. I took a bit of author’s license with details for my storyline, but otherwise the Shack Up Inn and Strawberry Plains are very much as I describe them.
www.ShackUpInn.com
www.strawberryplains.audubon.org
Bailey’s Casino is fictional, although based on a real casino in Tunica, MS.
Holly Springs, MS is a lovely town with beautiful antebellum homes and citizens infused with genuine Southern hospitality. I recommend visits to all the above!
Table of Contents
Trinket and the Gang Will Stop At Nothing To Clear A Diva’s Husband of Murder Charges