Laid Out and Candle Lit (8 page)

Rayann sighed and conceded. “Okay. You’re right, but leave your lights on. They hate light.” She took a deep breath and opened her door.

Tizzy slung her purse over her shoulder, left the car lights on and stepped to the back of the van. They each picked up two boxes, walked to the front door and knocked. There were lights on, but no sound was coming from inside. No music. No television. No conversation.

Rayann shook her head. “I don’t think anybody’s home.”

“They have a screened-in back porch; if the screen is open, we can leave the boxes inside and a note on the front door,” Tizzy said.

They walked around to the back, found the screen open, and placed the muffins on a small table inside. Returning to the front of the house, Tizzy searched in her purse for a pen and paper. They turned the corner and stopped in their tracks at the sight of two glowing eyes staring up at them.

Rayann sucked in a deep breath, moved her body behind Tizzy’s and whispered. “Oh my God! It’s a skunk.”

“Don’t move,” Tizzy said calmly. “When he sees we’re no threat to him, he’ll leave.” The skunk gave quick little nods, sniffing the air, and twitched his tail.

Rayann began to pray. “Oh Holy Mother of God . . . The Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. . . Oh sweet Mary, Mother of Jesus. . . Jesus, Mary and Joseph. . . Jesus, Jesus, bo besus, bonana fanna, fo fesus, fee fy mo mesus, Jee-ee-sus. Oh my God! He’s gonna bite us! He’s gonna give us rabies!” She screamed as she jumped on Tizzy’s back.

They spun around. Tizzy’s purse catapulted into the air and the contents exploded and rained down. Tizzie fought to dislodge Rayann from her back, catch the purse, and keep herself upright; she lurched and stumbled forward with Rayann riding her all the way to the ground.

The skunk turned, lifted his tail and sprayed, hitting them dead center. They both screamed, Rayann jumped to her feet, pulled Tizzy up by her shirt, ran for the car, jerked the doors open, and flung their bodies inside. They stared at each other in shock and disbelief, then at the skunk as he skittered away.

Rayann started to cry. “I told you there was a skunk! Oh my God! We stink like a skunk! We’ll never get this odor off. I think I may throw up,” Rayann said, beginning to gag.

Tizzy rested her head on the steering wheel and stared out at her purse spilled on the lawn. A large mangy black dog appeared out of nowhere, lay down and started to chew on her wallet.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice mixed with cynicism and disgust. “I can’t start the car because some insane person blaspheming the name of Jesus jumped on my back and caused me to lose my car keys. Shit, Rayann!”

From the back seat, Gracie repeated, “Shit, Rayann.”

Tizzy looked back at Gracie. “I’m sorry, baby. Momma shouldn’t have said that word. That wasn’t nice.”

“This is not my fault, Tizzy! I told you I was afraid of skunks. I gave you fair warning. You should have known I’d go a little crazy if I saw one,” Rayann said, reaching into her purse, fumbling to find her cell phone.

She flipped it open, punched in the number, and started a hysterical rant. “Hello, Dwayne? Tizzy and I have been attacked by a skunk. We can’t get her keys because a dog is chewing on her wallet! I need you to come get us! We’re out at the Philpot place. Bring your gun and at least two bullets.”

CHAPTER TEN

R
idge couldn’t help but notice the Mustang sitting in Tizzy’s drive when he angled behind the wheel of his car. He sat for a minute wondering who such an early morning visitor could be. Then again, maybe it wasn’t a visitor. Maybe the car belonged to someone who’d stayed over.

His chest tightened and he realized he had a serious grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles white and his biceps hard from the pressure. A gasp escaped his lips. Hell, was he jealous? He shook his head.
What’s wrong with me
? He knew the answer to the question, and even though he had no claim on her, the thought of another man in her life bothered him.

He turned the engine and backed out of the drive, heading toward the station. Both cruisers plus the sheriff’s car were parked in the lot. Inside, he found Dan, Earl Dean, Bubba and Rita all laughing. “What’s so funny?” Ridge asked.

“You haven’t heard?” Chief Ramsay asked. “Our local
Lucy and Ethel
had a run-in with a skunk last night.”

Ridge narrowed his eyes and cocked his head sideways.
“Lucy and Ethel, as in ‘
I Love Lucy?’”

Bubba wagged his head. “Yeah. I got the call last night around eight. Tizzy and Rayann were out at the Philpot place. They’d gone out there to deliver some muffins and got sprayed by a skunk.”

“I guess that explains the strange car I saw parked at Tizzy’s this morning.” Ridge said.

Dan nodded. “Yeah. I’m afraid she won’t be driving her car for a while. We took it to be fumigated. As a matter of fact, she may never be able to drive that car again.” They all broke into laughter.

Rita laid down her powdered donut and wiped her mouth. “Those poor girls. They get into more messes than anybody. Y’all remember the time they went to deliver pies out to Mrs. Buckalew and got attacked by the rooster? He ran ’em up a tree and they didn’t get down until she came home and got the rooster penned up.”

“Well, I think the skunk trumps the rooster,” Bubba said. “To add insult to injury, during the ordeal, Tizzy dropped her purse and lost her keys. A scary-looking dog showed up and started to chew on her purse, so they were stranded. But here’s the best part. We bought every can of tomato juice and tomato sauce in the county, because it’s supposed to remove the odor. They took baths in it, and now they’re kinda pink!

* * * * *

All eight ladies met Ridge in the fellowship hall at the Methodist church, and their stories matched. Marlene arrived at the meeting promptly at seven p.m. and with only one order of business, the meeting adjourned by seven forty-five. They stated there was nothing unusual about Marlene’s behavior. She was in a hurry for the meeting to end, but she was
always
in a hurry. Each one also agreed that Marlene Weston had few friends, but no one came to mind who would have wanted to kill her.

Fayrene Samuels, a blue-haired lady wearing a dress the same hue as her hair, and Bernice Watson, thin and frail, were last to leave. “You asked us about Tizzy and Marlene’s relationship,” Fayrene said. “I think Bernice will agree with me. Marlene treated Tizzy unfairly, especially the day of Boone’s funeral. Marlene lashed out at Tizzy, causing quite a scene. Poor little Tizzy was in such shock that she couldn’t even speak. We felt sorry for her. But in all fairness, Marlene was thirteen when Boone came along. Her mother’s pregnancy embarrassed her. You know how thirteen-year-old girls can be.”

Ridge tried to keep a straight face while Bernice nodded and grunted agreement to every statement Fayrene made.

“Especially a spoiled rich thirteen-year-old,” Fayrene continued. “Marlene loved Boone. She was like a little mother to him. And when their parents died so tragically in the plane crash, she actually took on the role of mother.” She nodded sadly.

“Now, Tizzy on the other hand, even though she’s a little quirky, is the sweetest girl in the world. She has a kind heart. She helps out at the bank and volunteers at the clinic. You know she talks to the residents in the cemetery,” Bernice said, lowering her voice an octave.

“Thank you,” he said. “Earlier, when I asked about Marlene and Carl’s relationship, you both rolled your eyes. You said they were happy, but do you believe they were?”

Fayrene and Bernice took a glance at each other and Fayrene answered. “Well, they appeared to be. But given Marlene’s disposition, I doubt any man alive could have made her happy. Wouldn’t you say so, Bernice?”

“I guess so.” She leaned in and cupped her mouth with her hand and whispered. “I don’t think she and Carl had sex anymore.”

Fayrene jerked her head around. “Bernice! I cannot believe you are talking about s-e-x in the Lord’s house. What is wrong with you?”

“Good grief, Fayrene. The Lord knows who is and who isn’t having sex, and if He didn’t want people doing it, He would’ve made it feel like a root canal.”

Ridge struggled to keep his composure “What makes you think they weren’t?”

“Well, my housekeeper is friends with their housekeeper, and mine told me.” Bernice glanced at the clock. “Wow! Look at the time. I’ve gotta go. Company’s coming to my house and I promised them some homemade spaghetti and I can’t find a can of tomato sauce in this town. I’ve got to go all the way to Tyler to get some.”

Ridge smiled at the reference and thought,
finally a piece of information about Marlene’s marriage with a possible bearing on the case.
Then again, if every forty-year-old married person not having sex was murdered, the ground would be covered in bodies. But as a man, Ridge knew if Carl Weston wasn’t gettin’ any at home, he most likely was gettin’ it somewhere.

* * * * *

Ridge took a chair at the table with Bubba and Dan as Rayann sashayed over to take their order, her skin, a light shade of pink and her blonde hair at least three shades darker. “Damn, Rayann! You look like you’ve got cotton candy on your head,” Dan said.

Rayann narrowed her eyes. “Hush up, Dan. I’m not in the mood for any more pink jokes.” She looked at Bubba with puppy-dog eyes and whined, “Do you think my hair looks like cotton candy?”

Bubba took her hand and kissed it. “Baby, cotton candy is spun sugar. It melts on your tongue like magic. I love cotton candy,” he said and kissed her hand again.

“Thank you, Dwayne,” she cooed.

She left with the order and Dan smirked at Bubba. “Damn, you are so whipped, it’s pitiful.”

“You think? Take my word, I’m not whipped. That, my man, is called foreplay. Later tonight, I can guarantee you, I’ll have cotton candy all over me.” He laughed.

Tizzy delivered an order to the next table and Ridge motioned to her. “Too bad about your little mishap.”

She cut him off short. “Don’t start with me, Cooper. Rayann and I have listened to every possible pink joke in the world. Gracie said I look like
Pinky Dinky Doo.
We’ve heard
in the pink, tickled pink, pretty in pink, pink makes the boys wink
, so I doubt you can come up with a new one.”

He fought a smile. “Now what makes you think I’d come in here to tease you? I was going to say, now that I’ve seen you; pink is my new favorite color.” He locked his eyes on hers and released his smile.

Dan pursed his lips and tightened his gaze. “Was that foreplay, too, Cooper?”

Ridge’s smile stayed in place and he ignored the question.

* * * * *

The road leading to the Weston home was long, winding and
paved.
Ridge guessed the pavement probably cost as much as most homes in Brownsboro. Not visible from the main street, the house was a two-story sprawling contemporary, all stucco, glass and metal, and had a four-car garage. A workshop sat adjacent to the structure. And in the back yard was a pool with a guest house and cabana.

Since Ridge had called ahead, the Weston’s housekeeper was expecting him. Elsie, an African-American in her sixties, was short, thin and pleasant. Her hair was slicked back and twisted into a knot at the base of her neck. Silver barrettes held the strands above her ears in place.

She spoke softly when she answered the door. “Come in, sir. Can I offer you something to drink? Tea . . . water . . . coffee?”

“No ma’am, but thank you. I’ve been eating and drinking all morning. The ladies at the church filled me up.” He removed his hat. “I appreciate you talking to me. I only have a few questions.”

She motioned for him to take a seat on the sofa, and she took the chair facing him. “Yes sir. I’ll be happy to help any way I can. I still can’t believe Miz Marlene’s gone.”

“Yes ma’am, I understand. How long have you worked for the Westons?”

“Oh mercy. Almost twenty years.”

Ridge smiled and placed his hat next to him on the sofa, then removed the small notebook from his shirt pocket. “Can you tell me what kind of relationship Mr. and Mrs. Weston had? Did they get along? I understand all couples argue, so I’m talking for the most part.”

“Yes sir, they did. Of course, they didn’t spend much time together. Before the kids were gone, Miz Marlene was busy with their lives and activities. Once they left home, Mr. Carl was either at the bank or in his shop, and Miz Marlene at some sort of church or community meeting. At least two weekends a month she went to Dallas to be with the children.”