Drop Dead Divas (6 page)

“Well, so far Bitty’s efforts haven’t produced a single detail we don’t already know. Did you read the paper this morning?” Rayna asked.

I had. “It said Naomi claims an unidentified person came into the cottage and shot him. Who do you think really killed him?”

“Naomi Spencer.”

“Really?”

Rayna nodded. “Who else could it be? Who else would care who Race slept with if it wasn’t her?”

“You think he was with someone else and Naomi came in, found them together, and then shot him?”

“It makes sense.”

“Hm. She says she didn’t do it.”

“I would too, if I was her.”

I considered that a moment.  “True. And it was her gun the police found at the scene. Still, if she’s right, shouldn’t the police be looking for this other person?”

Rayna looked surprised. “You believe her?”

“No, not really, but still . . . a lot of people thought Bitty killed Philip, you know, and all the evidence was against her, but in the end, it was proven she didn’t do it. It’s always
possible
that Naomi is innocent.”

I don’t know quite what made me think that. Maybe it was Naomi’s obvious pride in the small engagement ring she’d shown us that day at Budgie’s café. She had seemed genuinely happy. Until the food fight, of course.

“Yes, and it’s always possible Naomi and Bitty will end up best friends, but I wouldn’t count on that either,” Rayna said. She flipped open a cabinet door and peered at the neat rows of packaged food, then shut it and opened another. On her third try, she found what she was looking for on the bottom shelf. “If I have to sit out there watching Bitty and Trina dance around what they really want to say to each other, I might as well have something fortifying in my tea. How about you?”

I eyed the bottle of Jack Daniel’s for a moment. I’d never had whiskey in my tea, but then, there is always a first time for everything.

“Don’t mind if I do,” I said, and Rayna smiled.

By the time we drank a few cups of fortified tea and returned to the living room at the front of the house, I was surprised to see Deelight Tillman sitting on the other end of the horsehair-stuffed sofa. She smiled at us brightly. Deelight is a member of the Divas. I wondered if she had just happened to drop by and now refused to leave. Some people do have a sixth sense about where lightning might strike next. Or when something bound to be good is going to happen. I wasn’t at all sure which of the two might occur.

It wasn’t two minutes after Rayna and I sat back down in the prissy little chairs from Bitty’s dining room that had been brought into the living room, that a discreet knock on the front door announced the arrival of Gaynelle Bishop. From the way she said she was just stopping by, I began to think word had gotten out that Trina Madewell was visiting Six Chimneys at last. Of course the Divas would want to be in on this. We had been rude not to consider that.

And really, Gaynelle would be an excellent addition to our group. She may be in her sixties, but she’s still sharp as a tack and about as tactful. Now that she’s retired, her former attire of matronly dresses, cat’s-eye glasses, and gray hair has changed drastically. It was as if the retirement party had unleashed the real Gaynelle hiding inside an old maid spinster costume. Now she wears flamboyant colors, silk, and has her hair dyed a tasteful brown with highlights. Sometimes she doesn’t wear eyeglasses at all, and on occasion she wears glasses with no frames, just subtle earpieces. While her outward appearance has changed greatly, she’s still the same forthright, no-nonsense kind of person she has always been.

That can be a blessing or a curse, depending upon the situation.

When Cady Lee Forsythe showed up at the door with Cindy Nelson, I knew for certain that word had gotten out. It was a good thing Bitty owned a large dining room set with plenty of chairs. It looked as if the entire membership of the Dixie Divas planned to “drop by” Six Chimneys that afternoon.

Bitty was in a tizzy. She’d only planned a tea for three. When she looked over at me with the wide-eyed stare of a deer caught in headlights, I heard myself offer to bring in more refreshments. It must have been the Jack Daniel’s talking.

Fortunately, Jack must have been talking to Rayna as well. She followed me into the kitchen.  “Where does Bitty keep the tea bags?”

I pointed, and Rayna picked up the box of Earl Grey and shook it. There were only a couple tea bags left.

“We could use regular teabags,” I suggested, but Rayna had a much better idea.

“A little of this should help refill the teapot,” she said as she unscrewed the lid to the Jack Daniel’s.

“What kind of sandwiches go with Earl Grey and whiskey?” I wondered out loud.

“Not those nasty cucumber things. Does Bitty have any of Sarah’s pimento cheese made up?”

It’s a testament to the power of great recipes that everyone in the Divas, and probably in Holly Springs, knows that Sarah Truevine had the best pimento cheese recipe ever. I spread what was left of the batch Sharita had made on light bread, cut off the crusts, cut the sandwiches into triangles, then arranged them on the Limoges platter that matched the teapot, cups, and plates. Good thing Bitty had bought an entire set. I’m sure it had set back whatever husband she was married to at the time a pretty penny. Or franc.

When we returned to the living room, Rayna carrying the tray with the potent tea and teacups and me the platter of sandwiches, Bitty seemed to have adjusted to the unexpected. She still sat on the sofa, now wedged between Cady Lee and Gaynelle, but without the presence of Chen Ling. Long before Trina arrived, I’d convinced Bitty it would be much safer to let the pug nap upstairs rather than expose her to possible violence. She’d laughed, but followed my advice, I am glad to say.

Rayna set the tea tray on the Turkish hassock and began pouring, while I passed around small plates with pimento cheese sandwiches. I’d found a can of mixed nuts and poured them into a small bowl that didn’t match the Limoges china but fit on the tray better. Bitty eyed it with a frown. She’s very particular about how she likes to show off. I pretended not to notice.

About then, Gaynelle Bishop took a big sip of tea and choked. Bitty pounded her on the back as Gaynelle gasped for air.

“It must have gone down the wrong way,” Bitty said solicitously, and handed Gaynelle a cloth napkin.

“My,” Gaynelle said after recovering her breath, “this is . . . quite
strong
tea.”

“It’s Earl Grey,” said Bitty, blissfully unaware that we had introduced Earl to Jack. “I purchased several boxes while in England last year.”

I decided it was best not to tell Bitty she could have bought it in the Holly Springs Wal-Mart as well. There are definitely some things better left unsaid. Rayna just smiled and poured more tea as cups were drained. I must say, Earl Grey has rarely been so popular.

Soon the living room sounded like a grade school auditorium, everyone talking at once. By the time a third pot of tea had been made, I think Rayna didn’t even bother to use any kind of teabags. It tasted like straight Jack Daniel’s to me. Cady Lee’s eyes were a bit glazed as she held out her cup for Rayna to pour more tea, and the usually prim and proper Gaynelle was giggling like one of her former third grade pupils. Deelight Tillman had a smudge of pimento cheese on the end of her nose, but no one else seemed to notice.

Then Cindy Nelson, a young mother from nearby Snow Lake and a fairly new member of the Divas, hiccupped loud enough to stop all conversation. She clapped a hand over her mouth at once as if to stifle the sound, but it didn’t help. Another hiccup erupted between her fingers, then another, rolling from her in a tsunami of spasms.

“Give her a teaspoon of sugar,” Gaynelle advised, and Cady Lee disagreed.

“No, she should blow into a grocery sack.”

“Plastic or paper?” Deelight asked in a rather slurred voice.

“Oh my, not plastic. She would suffocate,” Gaynelle said at once. She can usually be counted on to know things like that since teaching a legion of Holly Springs’ children to read, write, and not make rude noises in public.

At that point, Bitty leaned forward, her gaze intent upon Trina Madewell. “Were you the one who found the body?”

All conversation ceased. At last we’d come to the real reason Trina had been invited to tea. Everyone leaned forward in their seats, except poor Cindy who kept a hand over her mouth to muffle the tide of hiccups.

“No,” said Trina. “But when I heard the commotion I got down to the cottage as quick as I could, of course. It was . . . awful.”

We all hung on that last word for a moment before Gaynelle asked, “How awful?”

Apparently Gaynelle still expects detailed answers to test questions, so she can be excused for asking what we were all wondering anyway.

Trina’s hand shook slightly and the Limoges teacup rattled in its saucer. Mascara-thick eyelashes fluttered briefly over her brown eyes. Somehow her purplish-red lipstick had smeared from her bottom lip to her chin. With purple eye shadow arched on her lids a bit too high, her face had the rather odd effect of a circus clown in half makeup. All she needed was for her nose to get a little redder and she’d qualify for Barnum and Bailey’s.

“When I got there,” Trina said in a husky voice, “my sister was hysterical. She was the one who found . . . Race. I suppose she’d gone to wake him for breakfast. That’s part of the package we offer, a free breakfast is included in the night’s stay.”

“What do you serve?” Deelight asked, and I saw Bitty elbow her sharply. “Oof! I was just curious.”

In Deelight’s defense, she still has children at home and is always looking for new menu ideas.

Bitty patted her on the arm. “I know, dear, but it’s rude to interrupt.” She looked back at Trina. “More tea? It seems to have an especially energizing effect today.”

When Trina held out her cup, I slid a glance toward Rayna, who kept a poker face as she poured from the teapot. I don’t know how she did it. Rayna is a woman of many talents.

“It must be the caffeine,” said Gaynelle, “but do go on, Trina.”

The center of rapt Diva attention now, Trina seemed to swell with importance. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, prolonging our suspense before she said, “I went into the cottage because I couldn’t understand a word Trisha was saying. She was just so hysterical, screaming and crying—well! I got no farther than the bedroom door when I saw him. There he was, lying across the bed just inside the door, naked as a jaybird and with his—
you know
—stiff as a poker and standing straight up. It was so big you could have hung a flag on it.”

At that, Cindy Nelson’s hiccups stopped.

I think a few of us stopped breathing for a moment, too, and I know all of us were visualizing Race Champion with his
you know
flying a flag. We must have looked foolish sitting there in a circle of chairs with slackened jaws and glazed eyes, and I am very glad Bitty’s windows have curtains.

Gaynelle recovered first. “Well then,” she asked briskly, “how could you tell he was dead?”

“The hole in the middle of his forehead. It was quite noticeable.”

“Oh my,” Deelight said in a squeaky voice, “oh my!”

Trina nodded. “It was awful.”

An understatement, I thought.

“I heard he was shot twice,” Rayna said.

“Yes, so did I, but all I noticed was that hole in his forehead. It looked so big and perfectly round, like someone had used a hole-puncher.” Trina leaned forward to set her empty teacup on the tray in the middle of the ottoman. “Of course, I didn’t get too close to him. All I could think was that whoever killed him might still be hiding in the cottage and that Trisha and I should get back to the house and call the police.”

“I wouldn’t have known what to do,” Cady Lee said in a horrified tone. “I think I would have just fainted dead away right there.”

“Well, I felt like it,” Trina said with a light shudder that seemed more put on than real, “but I knew I had to get Trisha to safety just in case.”

“Oh, you were so brave!” Cindy said now that she was hiccup-free. “You just never know what you’ll do until it happens to you, I guess.”

Not too long ago, Cindy had been the victim of a deranged assailant who is now safely in custody, thank heavens. Since I’d also been bashed in the head, I figured she might appreciate a bit of commiseration.

“But we both made it through,” I said to her softly.

Tears came into her eyes and she nodded, and so she wouldn’t feel alone, I got all teary, too. We hugged each other over Rayna’s head, since she was sitting between us, and I heard her mutter, “Good lord!”

Bitty, ever the consummate hostess even after far too many cups of tea, said to ease the sudden downward turn in our conversation, “Would anyone like more tea?”

“Good god,” Cady Lee said in a groan, “if I have anymore of this tea I’ll need to call Brett to drive me home. I swear I feel tipsy. Am I the only one?”

“No,” said Gaynelle, frowning at her empty cup, “I feel . . . odd. What is in this tea, Bitty?”

Looking a bit bewildered, Bitty peered into her cup and then sniffed the contents. I knew the instant she recognized the scent. Her head jerked up in surprise. “Someone spiked our tea!”

All eyes turned toward me.

I said the first thing that came to mind: “Talking about murder requires something stronger than tea.”

Heads nodded in agreement, and the moment passed. Rayna smiled at me and I smiled back. Divas always stick together.

“When you found Race dead,” Cady Lee asked Trina, “didn’t that make you feel just awful? I mean, y’all dated for such a long time.”

That information caught all our immediate attention.

I didn’t know where to look. Trina seemed caught off-guard by the question, and Cady Lee looked guileless. Of course, with Cady Lee it’s hard to tell sometimes. When we went to grade school together she was always voted the prettiest and had all the boys buzzing around her like bees at a sorghum mill. I still don’t know how she managed to keep them in order. It must have taken a certain amount of guile, after all.

I’ve learned through the years that we are who we are no matter how much older we’ve gotten, or how much life we’ve experienced. We may learn certain lessons, even if it’s not to do
that
again, but we just can’t help ingrained personality traits. Cady Lee is still a belle and the prettiest girl at the school dances, even though she’s now fifty and her once-brown hair is blond and her once-brown eyes are green or blue, depending upon which set of contact lens she’s wearing. She pulls it off marvelously. So you see, she could have dropped that little gem about Trina Madewell dating Race Champion innocently, or she could have said it knowing it would discomfit Trina. It was a toss-up.