Strung Out to Die (9 page)

We all turned and stared at her in disbelief. The one time we needed her to have her phone, and she didn’t have it planted between her ear and shoulder.

“What?” She pulled back from our huddle in confusion.

“Where is your phone?” I asked.

“I left it on the table.” Flora pointed, and we all looked into the shop.

Agnes was still trying her hardest to string one of those big wooden beads on a shoestring, oblivious to what was going on.

“I left mine on the table, too,” Marlene said, chomping away on her gum.

“Me too.” Cheri confirmed.

“Mine is in my purse, hanging on the chair,” Bernadine said through chattering teeth.

“Somebody get the door.” Agnes yelled over her shoulder. “Where’d you gals go?”

Agnes got up before we could stop her and had the door unlocked and wide open.

“Sorry, we’re closed.” Agnes came face to face with the peeping tom.

She went to shut the door, but it was pushed back open by the other person. We drew in a breath as we heard footsteps that weren’t Agnes’. We held our collective breath in anticipation of what was about to happen.

“I’m looking for the Divorced Divas’ group,” A woman said as she stepped into the light. “I heard they held their meetings here.”

We walked back into the shop when we were convinced the five-foot woman with her brown hair styled in a bob wasn’t going to open fire.

“Yes, we do meet here.” I walked up behind Agnes.

“Now you all come out.” Agnes shook her head and walked away. “Chickens.”

“With a murderer on the loose, you can never be too sure.” Cheri picked her pliers up and then put them back down on the bead board.

“How can we help you?” I asked looking into her red-rimmed eyes.

“I’m getting a divorce, or I think I am. I’m looking for a support group to help me get through it.” She dropped her head and looked at her long thin fingers. She played with her simple wedding band. “I’m Sadie May.”

“You’ve come to the right place, honey.” Bernadine wrapped her arms around Sadie.

Flora got Sadie some tissues.

“What did your no-good soon-to-be ex do?” Cheri patted the chair next to her for Sadie to sit down.”

Sadie sat and melted down into a full, inconsolable sob.

“Now, now, dear.” Agnes Pearl assumed her grandmotherly role. “Men are like commercials. You can’t believe a word they say.”

Sadie’s light blue eyes were watery, but a smile crossed her face. “I knew I could count on you Divas to cheer me up.” She dabbed her eyes, and then tucked a strand of her short hair behind her ear.

“Tell us, what did he do?” Flora asked.

She had to get the full scoop. I leaned in, and Bernadine eased her chair a little closer to make sure she was within earshot. This was the stuff we Divas live for. Juicy gossip.

“I think he’s cheating on me.” There was uneasiness in her voice.

“Think or know?” I asked. “Because you are getting divorced.”

“Huh?” Cheri’s nose curled up.

“Have you already filed for divorce or you just planning on filing?” I asked again. This all sounded very much like it was in the early stages.

“No.” Softly Sadie answered. “He doesn’t know that I think he’s cheating.”

“Hold up!” Agnes Pearl put her hands in the air to stop all the talking. “You mean to tell us that you only suspect him and you want to be a Divorced Diva?”

“Yeah,
Divorced
Diva.” Flora made sure Sadie understood that you had to be divorced to join the group.

Unless you were Ginger, of course.

“Sadie, he might not really be cheating.” I tried to comfort her. Obviously she needed a friend to talk to. “What do your friends think?”

I don’t have any.” She frowned. “We just moved here for his job and he’s always working.”

Sadie used finger quotes on “working.”

“Just because he’s working a lot doesn’t mean he’s cheating.” I assured her. “I’m no detective, but I have been cheated on, and I can smell a cheater from a mile away. This doesn’t sound like a cut-and-dried cheating situation.”

“Good. So I can count on you to help me?” Sadie’s tears had dried up lickity-split.

“What?” I wasn’t volunteering for anything. What little time I did have was going toward exonerating myself, The Beaded Dragonfly, and Sean of murder.

“Since you said you were the expert, you just need to see him, right?” Sadie looked for any hope that I’d say yes.

“Why don’t you call us back when you have some real evidence that he’s cheating. Then we can go from there.” I scribbled the phone number down for The Beaded Dragonfly and sent Sadie on her merry way.

Agnes got up and gathered her belongings.

“I think that girl has done fell off the tater wagon.” She motioned for Marlene. “Let’s go home. That Salsa With The Stars show is on tonight, and I don’t want to miss it.”

Marlene rolled her eyes and chomped her gum. “We don’t want you to miss anything, Agnes.”

That was everyone’s cue to get their own stuff and head home. We’d had a long day and night.

“We’re meeting at Ginger’s tomorrow morning.” I confirmed it with everyone. “Marlene, are you set to work?”

Marlene was going to cover for me at the shop while I paid my respects. There was no way Marlene was going to set foot in Ginger’s house. Ginger didn’t like her, and she may have been dating Doug when he died.

“You can count on me,” Marlene said, as she helped Agnes down the stairs. Agnes tried to bat her hands away again and Marlene smacked her hands right back.

I shook my head. This was a crazy bunch of Divas, but they were my kind of kooky.

Chapter Eleven

“I’ll help you clean up.” Cheri picked up a couple of the bead boards off the table, being careful to stack the Diva’s projects on top of each other. Briefly, she paused and stood in front of me. “I think we should go to the Livin’ End together. Tonight.”

“Tonight?” I looked up at the clock on the wall behind the counter. “It’s 10:15pm.”

“I bet things are really getting started about right now.” Her eyes lifted. “People have already had a little time to get a drink or two in them. And you know that saying about alcohol and talking.”

I shook my head. “No, I don’t know any sayings,” I confirmed.

“You should know it.” She bit her lip as though she was searching her brain for something. “I don’t know what it is, but my aunt, who is about your age, used to say it.” She tapped her chin. “Something about having loose lips.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know. I thought that you could go and report back to me. Not me go with you.”

That was the plan. I wanted her to do her sweet college girl thing and fast-talk to get what we needed to get.

“Come on. It’ll be fun.” She pleaded, following me back to the storage room.

One-by-one I took the boards from her and stacked them back on the shelf for the next meeting.

“I can’t do that. Everyone will know what I’m up to.”

“I was thinking that you could dress differently.” She cast her eyes up and down my body. “I have some stretch pants and a really cool top you can put on. I also have this great wig that we can disguise you in.”

“No.” I shook my head continually. “That doesn’t sound like a very good plan.”

“Are you kidding me?” Her mouth formed an O and she stomped the ground. “That’s a great idea. Think about it. We can be sitting there like two college girlfriends and you bring up the subject. Instead of me trying to come up with questions on my own, you can ask the questions that you need the answers to.”

She did have a point. Just say that I did go in disguise, I could ask any questions and get the information first hand, not second, which was what would happen if Cheri went on her own.

“Fine,” I agreed.

“Come on!” Cheri grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the storage room. “Get Willow and lock up. Meet me upstairs.”

“Okay. I’ll lock up.” I showed her out the door, and then went back to the counter.

Placing my hand on the phone, I knew I needed to make a phone call, but wondered if Noah had put a tap on it. Still, I needed to get a hold of Sean. He hadn’t returned any of my calls, which made me believe it was a little suspicious.

Before I really had time to think about what I was doing, we were walking into the Living’ End. She was right. The bar was hopping.

Cheri wove in and out of the crowd like a true champion. She scored a couple of bar seats at the far end. By the time I waddled over, she had already ordered our drinks and was talking to the guy next to her.

“Here she is.” She put her hands out like she was Vanna White and showing me off. “This is Steve. He’s a regular here.”

Steve nodded, but didn’t take his eyes off of Cheri.

“Nice to meet you.” I planted a half grin on my face, afraid to smile too much or all the makeup Cheri had put on me would crack off in chunks.

He still didn’t look at me. I wouldn’t look at me either. There was nothing worse than feeling like a stuffed sausage link, except for looking like one. My legs definitely looked like one, especially with the size-six ankle boots she made me wear, when I wear a size nine shoe.

Pulling the “cool” shirt, which was a cropped sweater with a long tank underneath, down to cover what little it did, I plopped on the bar stool.

“What can I get you?” The bartender asked. He didn’t recognize me. Usually he would ask how Sean was, but he didn’t this time.

“I’ll have water,” I stated confidently in my new accent.

Cheri wagged her finger in front of me. “No she won’t. She’ll have a bourbon and coke.” She shooed the bartender off and turned toward me. “What’s wrong with your voice? Be cool. Ask questions. Don’t make it complicated.”

Eric Clapton’s Wonderful Tonight echoed all over the bar, and the smoke hung over the pool tables like an early morning fog. I didn’t recognize anyone, which I guess was a good thing.

“You come here much?” The guy next to me asked. His button down was untucked and the two top buttons were undone, not to mention it was a little wrinkled. It looked like he had a small stain on the thigh of his khaki pants. The bar light reflected off his bald head.

“No,” I stated.

“What are you drinking?” He leaned closer and titled his glass so the ice would clink against the sides.

Cheri elbowed me, giving me the eye.

“I just ordered a bourbon and coke.” It was painful to fake a smile. I wasn’t good at flirting. I never had been and never would be. Sean and I had known each other for years, so it was a comfortable relationship where I didn’t have to try so hard. Maybe I should’ve. “Do you come here a lot?”

“Not really, but I do love a cute redhead.” He fluttered his eyebrows like Groucho Marks.

“What?” I drew back, thinking this man was crazy.

“Your red hair.” He pointed to the wig that I had completely forgotten I was wearing. “I like your hair.”

“Oh, it’s so loud in here that I can hardly hear you.” I brushed the edges of the short fake strands with my fingertips. “Thank you so much.” I drew out the ‘you’ in my best southern accent.

I had always heard that men loved southern women, so why not throw that in.

“Cheers.” I held my glass up and let him think that I was all into him. I leaned a little closer, and cozied up to him. If I was going to get some information, I was going to have to do this flirting thing. “Did you hear about that big brawl that took place here the other night where one of the men ended up dying?”

“Darling, I sure did hear about that.” His lips parted into the widest grin. “From what I hear, there was a little tension between the two. In fact, I’d bet he was having an affair with that bead store owner.”

“No he wasn’t!” I jumped up, knocking the stool on the ground. Cheri bounced off her seat, ready to pounce.

“What’s wrong?” Cheri came nose-to-nose with the guy. “Did you say something to my friend?”

“Cheri?” Someone called from behind us. “Is that you?”

We both turned around. Bernadine stood with her hands on her hips, red hair flowing over her shoulders, and her mouth gaped open. Amusement flickered in her eyes when she noticed me.

“Holly?” Her eyes darted back and forth between me, Cheri, and the guy. “Ernie?”

“Ernie?” Cheri and I asked in unison.

“Yes.” He turned completely around on his stool, bald head shining like the North Star.

“I think I’m going to need a drink for this explanation.” She pushed her way between us and planted her tush on my stool. Putting her finger in the air, she ordered, “Whiskey sour, please. And make it a double.”

“This is Ernie?” My voice dripped with disgust. “He believes that I’m having an affair with Doug.”

I glared at him, not taking my eyes off him for one second.

“Was.” Ernie lifted his brows, exposing his beady little eyes. “He’s dead. Remember?”

“Oh!” I lunged toward him, Cheri pulled me back and my wig went flying off and smacked him square in the face.

“I knew you weren’t a real red head.” He threw the wig on the bar floor and turned back around in his seat.

“Aw, shut up.” I took another seat at the bar. There were plenty to choose from because my little fiasco had scared everyone off. The bartender shot my glass down the bar with a look of death. “Sorry.”

“What is going on here?” Bernadine got off her stool and grabbed the wig. “If I knew you wanted to be a redhead like me, I would’ve given you the name of my hair dresser.” She shook her head, her curls flying back and forth.

“Funny,” I murmured. “You know I asked Cheri to come here to find out what happened. She had this
great
idea that I should come here in disguise and hear from the regulars myself.”

“Really?” Cheri tipped her face and chuckled. “I didn’t realize that you were going to pick a fight…like Sean.”

“Okay, let’s not get feisty.” Bernadine stood up next to us. “It was a good plan, but you talked to the wrong guy. I told you that I would talk to Bennie’s PI. I wasn’t going to meet him alone, so meeting here was a good place to start.”

“Listen, I’m just here to make a buck.” He picked up his drink glass and tilted it toward me with his finger pointing at me. “I never intended to meet up with a fake red head.”