Read Biggie and the Quincy Ghost Online
Authors: Nancy Bell
Biggie and the Quincy Ghost (7 page)
That night, we all sat down and stuffed ourselves with Willie Mae’s special seafood gumbo, the best in the whole wide world.
“I
t’s a lovely evening.” Biggie pushed herself back from the supper table in the dining room and patted her stomach. She had just polished off a big bowl of Willie Mae’s famous raisin bread pudding topped off with rum sauce. “I think I’ll take a little stroll around town. Anybody else want to go along?”
t’s a lovely evening.” Biggie pushed herself back from the supper table in the dining room and patted her stomach. She had just polished off a big bowl of Willie Mae’s famous raisin bread pudding topped off with rum sauce. “I think I’ll take a little stroll around town. Anybody else want to go along?”
“I can’t go, Biggie,” Butch said, brushing crumbs off his black velvet jeans. “I’m meeting Chip, you know, I told you about him. He owns the Gilded Lily Tea Room. We’re getting together with some of his friends to watch an old Judy Garland special on video. Don’t you just love Judy?”
Biggie nodded. “How about you, Mattie? Feel like some fresh air?”
Miss Mattie made a face. “Can’t,” she said. “Norman’s been having a hissy fit for me to trim his ingrown toenail.”
“Well, it hurts,” Mr. Thripp whined. “I can’t hardly walk without pain.”
“Why can’t you do it yourself?” I asked.
Mr. Thripp stretched out his long legs and set one of his feet on the chair next to him, then leaned over. He bent over and stretched as hard as he could, but he could just barely touch his toes with his hands. “It’s a curse,” he said, “the curse of the Thripps. We’re all built the same, long legs and short arms.”
“Well, I’ll be jiggered,” Rosebud said, coming in with a tray to clear the table. “If that don’t beat Old Billy.”
“I have to trim his toenails regularly,” Miss Mattie said. “You should have seen that man’s feet when we married. He did not have one single pair of socks that didn’t have holes in the ends.”
“I’d had to go to a size larger shoe … .”
“Ee-yew,” Butch said. “If y’all don’t hush, I’m just gonna to lose all my supper.”
Biggie grinned. “How about you, J.R.?”
Frankly, I couldn’t wait to get out of there. What I wanted to do was go home, but it didn’t look like that was going to happen until me and Biggie found out who the murderer was.
Biggie turned right when we left the hotel and I followed her to the corner. “Hmm, if we go this way,” she pointed, “we’ll just see the shops, and I covered all them this afternoon. Let’s go the other way. That looks like a residential neighborhood.”
The sun was setting behind the trees and a cool breeze rustled the leaves on the big oak trees that lined the street. We passed tall Victorian houses with terraced yards and
fancy iron fences. Biggie would pause from time to time in front of a house and make comments. “Just look at that birdbath,” she said, stopping in front of one house that was painted green with rust-and-cream trim. “What would you think of us getting one of those to go in the middle of the hosta bed in the side yard?”
fancy iron fences. Biggie would pause from time to time in front of a house and make comments. “Just look at that birdbath,” she said, stopping in front of one house that was painted green with rust-and-cream trim. “What would you think of us getting one of those to go in the middle of the hosta bed in the side yard?”
“I don’t know, Biggie. I’m just a kid.”
“Sure you are—but you’ve got your father’s good taste.”
“Biggie, my daddy rented out porta-potties to construction sites for a living.”
“I know, but everybody said he had the prettiest and cleanest portable toilets around. They only went to the finest building projects in Dallas.”
“Yes’m,” I said.
“So, what do you think about …”
“Hey!” a voice boomed out from the front porch of the house. “What are y’all standing around for? Come on in!” Alice LaRue came down the steps holding a pitcher in her hand. She was wearing overalls with a white tee shirt and had no shoes on. “Come on up here. I just made a big pitcher of planter’s punch that I’m just dying to share.”
Biggie smiled and motioned for me to open the iron gate that led to the yard. I held it open for Biggie and followed her up the front walk, which was shaded by magnolia trees covered with basketball-sized blooms. The front porch was lined with gardenia bushes covered with white flowers and, in front of them, petunias made a solid pink border. Hanging baskets in every color swung between the porch columns.
“My stars, Alice, this place is a regular Garden of
Eden.” Biggie took a deep breath. “What kind of gardenias are these? I’ve never smelled such a heavenly scent.”
Eden.” Biggie took a deep breath. “What kind of gardenias are these? I’ve never smelled such a heavenly scent.”
“Scarlet O’Hara,” Alice said. “They are right fine, aren’t they. I ordered them out of a catalog.” She broke off a blossom and handed it to Biggie.
“I’d love to have a few cuttings from these.” Biggie sniffed the flower.
“Anybody comes by here and wants a cutting, they’ve got it,” Alice said. “Hell, what’s a garden for if it ain’t to share? Ya’ll come on in the house.” She held the screen door open. “The dern mosquitoes are too bad this year for porch settin’.”
If the outside was bright and colorful, the inside was just the opposite. The walls were covered with dark grayish wallpaper, the paneling was brown and, here and there, old-timey studio portraits of Alice’s ancestors frowned down on us. A round dark table with a fringed cloth stood in front of a straight stairway that parted the hall in two. Alice led us down the hall at the right of the stair.
“We’ll have our drinks in Papa’s study,” Alice said. “It’s the coolest room in the house. Since I’m outside most of the time, I never could see the sense in putting in air-conditioning.” She pushed open the door to an even darker room and set the pitcher on a table in front of the fireplace. “Y’all set down anywhere,” she said. “I’ll just go get the drinks.”
I took a seat on a straight chair and Biggie sat in one of the big leather chairs that flanked the table, and when she did I laughed out loud. Did I mention that Biggie’s no bigger than a minute? Well, when she flopped down in that chair, she dern near disappeared. Her feet stuck out
straight in front of her. “J.R., stop that laughing and help me up,” she said. Just as she had situated herself in the straight chair and I had curled myself up in the leather one, Alice came back followed by Emily Faye, who was carrying a tray with a big pitcher of the punch, two empty glasses, and one glass filled with milk. Alice took the milk off the tray and handed it to me. “This is the only thing I had suitable for a kid,” she said. “That and Adam’s ale. Set the tray on the table and sit yourself, Em.”
straight in front of her. “J.R., stop that laughing and help me up,” she said. Just as she had situated herself in the straight chair and I had curled myself up in the leather one, Alice came back followed by Emily Faye, who was carrying a tray with a big pitcher of the punch, two empty glasses, and one glass filled with milk. Alice took the milk off the tray and handed it to me. “This is the only thing I had suitable for a kid,” she said. “That and Adam’s ale. Set the tray on the table and sit yourself, Em.”
Emily did as she was told, perching on a stool in front of the hearth and looking like she’d prefer to be anywhere else but here. She wouldn’t look at me and I wondered if she knew I’d seen her riding around in that Suburban.
I took a sip. “It’s good.” And the milk was, ice cold and really creamy.
“I get it from a dairy outside of town,” Alice said. “Fifteen percent butterfat.” She poured their drinks, ignoring Emily. “Cheers,” she said, lifting her glass and almost draining it. She let out a huge sigh and patted her stomach. “What do you think of our town so far, not counting the murder, of course.”
“Not counting the murder, it’s charming,” Biggie said. “Unfortunately, you can never discount murder.”
“Right you are.” Alice looked serious. “Murder in a town this small reflects on us all. I just hope that outlander of a sheriff has sense enough to clear it up soon.”
“Who do you think did it?” Biggie took the bull by the horns.
“Umm.” Alice took another slug of punch and leaned over to refill her glass. “Could have been a transient, I guess. That courtyard opens to the alley out back.”
Biggie watched as Alice drank down half her glass again, then plowed ahead. “You don’t think it might have been someone, uh, closer to her? Like maybe a lover’s quarrel?”
“Brian wouldn’t do that!” Emily Faye’s voice had panic in it, and she looked like a deer caught in the headlights.
Alice sat up straight and glared at Emily. “Shut up, girl. What do you know about anything?” She looked hard at Biggie. “Brian? It’s a possibility, I reckon. Tell the truth, I don’t know much about the boy since he went off to college. Watched him grow up, of course. Too much of a mama’s boy to suit me, if you know what I mean. I like a kid with a little spunk. Of course, you can’t blame the kid, I guess, what with that sorry Quinton Quincy up and leaving like he did.”
“Who’s that?” I asked.
Alice shook the ice cubes in her glass. “His daddy. He left a long time ago, before Brian was born. What had happened, Mary Ann had a hard pregnancy, felt tired all the time, doncha know. Finally, it got so bad she couldn’t even get out of bed in the morning. Well, her mama came over to the house to visit one morning and found her that way and, right away, took her to the doctor—old Dr. Buford. He’s dead now. Dr. Buford ran some tests and made a diagnosis of multiple sclerosis. He gave her some pills and said go on home and rest, that it could go into remission, or she could just get sicker and sicker.”
“How sad,” Biggie said.
“Yeah, it was sad all right. But that’s not all. The sad part was when Quinton just up and left town. Told Mary Ann he couldn’t deal with a sick wife and a new baby.
Mary Ann moved in with her mama and daddy and lived with them right up until the day they died.”
Mary Ann moved in with her mama and daddy and lived with them right up until the day they died.”
“She sure doesn’t look sick, now.” Biggie held her glass out for more punch.
“Naw. It was a damn miracle.” Alice poured. “After Quinton left, Mary Ann got up out of the bed. She hasn’t had a bit of trouble since. We all think old Dr. Buford must of made a mistake about the multiple sclerosis.”
“Quincy,” Biggie said. “Did his family found the town?”
“Not all by themselves.” Alice shifted in her chair and reached for the pitcher of rum punch. “Lucas Fitzgerald’s folks were early settlers, too—and my old man’s family, the LaRues. They owned the first bank in town. I’m not actually from here. I met Mansfield LaRue when he came to Nashville on business. I was a student at Ward-Belmont College. Can you believe that? Yep. I was a well-finished young lady when Manse met me—at least that’s what they all thought.” She cackled with laughter. “My daddy made a fortune in scrap metal during the war. He was a junk man! Oh, I was a wild one when Manse married me. Manse didn’t care though. He loved me until the day he fell over dead down at the bank. It was an aneurysm, the doctor said. His poor old brain just exploded. He never even knew what hit him.”
“Whatever happened to Quinton?”
“Last anybody heard, he was out in California somewhere. Got himself a whole new family, so they say. Brian was a pretty angry kid growing up, as he had every right to be. Once I had to stop him from beating his little dog with a stick. But then he went off to school and seemed to
be doing better. When he started going out with Annabeth, he turned into a regular pussycat.”
be doing better. When he started going out with Annabeth, he turned into a regular pussycat.”
Emily made a noise that sounded like a snort.
“You shut your mouth, girl,” Alice snapped. “You’ll never get a man, and you know it, least of all a cute kid like Brian.”
Emily stuck out her tongue at her mama, just like a little kid would do.
“Do you think his anger could have come back? Brian’s, I mean. Enough for him to kill?”
“Hmm. I suppose it’s possible. He did say he had a snootful when they got home from that dance.”
“Uh-uh,” I said.
Biggie looked at me. “What?”
“Brian didn’t do it.”
“How do you know so much, sonny?” Alice sniggered.
“Because. I just know he couldn’t have hurt her. You should have seen how sad he was afterward.”
“J.R.,” Biggie said. “You’ve been around more evil in your life than any little boy ought to be. I blame myself for that. Still, you’ve seen how the most unlikely persons can turn out to be killers.”
“Yes’m, I guess so.” But in my heart, I knew Brian didn’t do it, and I knew Emily felt the same way because she looked at me and smiled when I said that.
Biggie turned back to Alice. “How about Mary Ann? How did she feel about Brian going out with Annabeth?”
“Okay, I guess. Never said anything against her. Of course, Mary Ann’s got no guts at all. Comes from living all her life with her parents and never having to think for herself. She was the sissy type, if you know what I mean. I
remember once when we were young marrieds, I got her to go fishing with me. First and last time. I had to bait her hook because she wouldn’t touch the worms. And take a fish off a hook? Forget it.”
remember once when we were young marrieds, I got her to go fishing with me. First and last time. I had to bait her hook because she wouldn’t touch the worms. And take a fish off a hook? Forget it.”
“But Brian would be marrying beneath himself, wouldn’t he?”
“Well, that’s a fact. Come to think of it, maybe Mary Ann did have some resentment toward the girl. Still, I can’t see her driving a knife into somebody’s chest. Nope, she wouldn’t have the stomach for it. Forget Mary Ann.”
“And Lucas?”
“Well, like I said, Lucas’s family’s been here forever. He granddaddy was the first county judge we had. You can see his picture hanging in the county courtroom. I can remember his daddy, old Judge Quincy. Of course, he was old when I came here. Everybody says he was a fine man. Served in the legislature under both Fergusons, Jim and “Ma”. When the judge came back from Austin, he did most of the lawyer work for the whole town. He wasn’t never a judge. That’s just a title of respect folks bestowed on him. They say a more honest man never drew a breath. Lucas, he went to law school because his daddy wanted it, but if you ask me, he’d have preferred to be a college professor, or some such thing. His real love is history, and most especially, the history of this here little town. If you ask me, he’s gone overboard about it. Wants to catalog every damn thing that’s ever happened around here.”
“Do you think he could be capable of murder?” Biggie looked hard at Alice.
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