Dirty Little Secrets (Romantic Mystery) Book 1 in the J.J. Graves Series (21 page)

“It figures that you’d defend him,” he hissed. “I’ve heard about the sick things the two of you do together down in that room of yours. You’re perverts, both of you. I’m going to get in touch with John Luke Stranton. I want Amanda transferred to the Here and Gone Funeral Home.”

I was so surprised about the pervert comment that it barely registered what he was saying about changing mortuaries. Were rumors really going around about me and Jack? You’d think I’d have caught wind of something like that. Or lost business. I’d have to ask.

I was mostly on autopilot when I told Mr. Wallace the body could be transferred after I’d finished my investigation. I needed to get to Jack and get to the bottom of this me being a pervert business. Everybody in town knew Jack was a pervert, but not in a too over the top, kinky way. Just in that he went through women like he did those little disposable Dixie cups you use when you brush your teeth.

But not me. I was as straight-laced as they came. Well, I guess technically in the last four days I’d been more open to things than usual, but it hardly counted. I wouldn’t be able to survive another week going at my continuous rate, and I definitely didn’t want to go to the hereafter in the throes of passion. How embarrassing. One of my first deaths after I’d taken over the funeral home was Buck Koch, and he’d died in a similar situation. Let’s just say it was a close call for getting the casket closed. Buck hadn’t died at half mast.

I realized I’d been standing in the parlor, staring after Mr. Wallace long after he’d gone, and I remembered Brody was sitting in my office waiting to collect on nookie and dinner. I wasn’t all that sure I was in the mood for either one after my conversation with Mr. Wallace. But I went back to my office anyway and found him sitting behind my desk with his feet propped on the corner.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he said. “I’m not going to welsh on our deal, but I don’t think I can have sex without taking a shower first,” Brody said. “I need some time to regroup after the whole dead body thing.”

Made sense to me. Death was not an aphrodisiac. Well, maybe it was for some people, but I didn’t really want to think about it because it grossed me out. We didn’t have to deal with that nonsense in Bloody Mary. You had to go all the way to Richmond to find the real wackos.
There was a full-size bathroom that connected to my office, and we decided to get clean before we headed to Martha’s. And it just so happened that once we were soaped up we felt like fooling around after all. Go figure.

“I’m starving,” Brody said as he pulled on his clothes. “And I don’t think my legs work anymore.”

“I can’t imagine why,” I said, struggling to get my own clothes on. My brain wasn’t sending the correct signals to all my extremities. Showers with Brody seemed to do that for me.

“We could always order pizza,” I said. I was still thinking about what Harvey Wallace had said about me, and I knew every time I went out I’d be thinking people were talking about me behind my back and calling me Dr. Pervert.

“Unh-uh. You promised to take me out. I’m holding you to it.”

“I don’t think you’ve thought this through. We’re going out to dinner at a place that will be jam-packed with people. Nosy people. And they won’t bother to be subtle about it.”

“Hey, don’t I know it. I’ve been here four days. But I can handle myself. I’m a writer for Pete’s sake. I’ll just lie like a dog and nobody will know the difference. Trust me. I’m a professional.”

“Good thinking,” I said, mentally shaking my head at his naivety. The people of Bloody Mary could give the CIA a run for their money when it came to ferreting out secrets.

We wrapped up in our coats, scarves and gloves because the temperature had dropped back down to freezing once the sun had gone down. All the melted snow would freeze overnight and leave the roads dangerous for all the morning work traffic. 

Thanks to my earlier nap I was wide awake and my brain was ready to get things done. Unfortunately, I was a lot like a man after sex, meaning as soon as orgasm was achieved I was a worthless blob of jelly. So I found myself in the strange predicament of having my mind well rested but my body turned to mush. The bad news was I still had a long night of work ahead of me.

We took Brody’s Escalade because it had the least amount of ice crusted on the windshield and headed into town. And for such a miserable night, Martha was doing a swift business.

“Looks like everyone in town had the same idea we did,” Brody said.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” If Brody meant that everyone in town had the same idea about coming into town to hear the latest gossip that is. And we were walking right into the lion’s den.

Heat cocooned me as soon as I walked through the doors, and the overpowering aroma of grilled onions and grease seeped into my clothes and hair. I knew from experience that I’d carry the smell of Martha’s around with me for the rest of the night.

Conversations stopped when everyone saw that we were at the door, and all I could hear was the sizzle of burgers on the grill in the kitchen. As suddenly as it had stopped, voices whooshed into conversation while curious glances kept creeping in our direction. Martha herself came out from behind the counter to show us to a table.

“You’re practically celebrities,” Martha said as she raised her voice to a yell and led us to one of the many turquoise Formica tables that lined the edge of the room. There were little juke boxes that sat on top, and the booths were torn and patched red vinyl. She plopped two greasy menus down in front of us and took our drink order.

It took less than thirty seconds for her to fill the order and get back to us. “I won’t be able to hold ‘em off for long,” she said, “so be prepared to get some questions. Everybody’s real curious about these murders. You’d think nobody ever watched the news or heard about all those killings that happen everyday up in Fairfax or Richmond. Jack was in earlier to grab a couple of burgers to go, and I wasn’t so sure he was going to make it back out again. These people are desperate. There’s only so much you can do in this kind of weather, and in my experience you can only do that so long before you start to go a little crazy if you get my drift. Or get knocked up, whichever comes first.”

Martha’s “going crazy” comment concerned me a little. Most of the patrons in the room were old enough that too much “crazy” could be a health risk. It was probably wise for them to brave the elements and get out of the house so they could escape temptation.

“Did you take my advice about poking the you know what in the you know where?” Martha asked in a whisper. But Martha’s whisper came out with the volume of a bull horn, and everyone lowered their volume to hear my answer. I kicked Brody under the table because he hadn’t stopped laughing since he’d sat down. “Brody’s just here doing research, Martha, but thanks anyway for thinking of me.”

She gave an exaggerated wink and shifted her weight until one bony hip rested against the red vinyl booth. “Sure honey, your secret’s safe with me. After all, you’ve got a reputation to protect and good-standing in the community. But just between you and me, the Ladies Lodge is booked through March for showers and what not, so you might want to get your name in the pot before too long. With your mama not here, we feel responsible for you.” She walked away without taking our order, probably just to make sure we stayed as long as possible to boost her business.

“Why is this town so desperate to see you with a man?” Brody asked.

I buried my face in the menu without reading the words just so I could avoid making eye contact while I answered. “Because this is fricking Bloody Mary, which means that a woman’s goal in life is to graduate high school and go to college a semester or two to catch a man who’s not completely worthless. And then once a suitable man is caught, the town will celebrate by throwing a shower of monstrous proportions and shoving you both down the aisle so you can get to the honeymoon and start procreating as soon as possible. It’s one long, sick cycle, and I’ve been slipping through their grasps for years.”

“So you’re a challenge,” Brody said, nodding his head like it all made perfect sense.

“In a nutshell. Mostly I’m just super picky and have no desire to throw my life away by learning how to make thirty-two different kinds of tablecloths or entering pies in the county fair. I’m told I take after my grandmother. She was a real rebel. She didn’t marry my grandfather until she was in her mid-thirties. That was practically ancient in that time.”

“So I’m just a diversion?” Brody asked.

“I’m not sure exactly what you are. You were a surprise. You kind of blind-sided me.”

“I’m good at that,” he said with the smile that I’d learned meant good things would come to me later. “But get ready because people are starting to get shifty and head this direction.”

“If we get into dangerous territory just stab me with a butter knife and get me to a hospital to escape the madness,” I said desperately.

I was actually feeling pretty good despite everything on my plate and my confrontation with Mr. Wallace. Martha’s words had had a lot to do with that. She wouldn’t have mentioned my reputation or good-standing in the community if there were a bunch of rumors going around about me being a pervert.

“Good evening, Dr. Graves,” Ben Rooney said as he pulled up a chair up backwards and sat at our table, making himself comfortable.

Ben had been a farmer all his life, not a tobacco farmer like Jack’s family, but an honest to God farmer with corn and wheat and pigs and cows. He always wore overalls and had a toothpick sticking out of his mouth. He’d never once gotten on to me, Jack, Dickey, Vaughn and Eddie when we’d snuck into his fields at night, eaten corn right off the stalks and told ghost stories.

Ben Rooney was a good man, and he and his wife had organized meals for me for a month after my parents died. Ben was one of the few people in town who actually knew my first name, so I was always especially friendly to those people so they had no reason to blackmail me later on. Besides, I didn’t mind gossiping with people I liked. In fact, I didn’t really consider it gossip at all, just passing the time with a little colorful information.

Ben looked pointedly in Brody’s direction, and I realized I was being rude. Just because everyone already knew who he was didn’t mean they didn’t want an official introduction.

“Brody, this is Ben Rooney. He and my dad were good friends.” They shook hands, and Ben got down to business.

“I’m awful sorry to hear about Harvey Wallace moving Amanda over to Stranton’s place. It just isn’t right, them being members of St. Paul’s and all. But the man is grieving and out of his mind, so you probably shouldn’t hold it against him.”

“No, of course not,” I lied. As far as I was concerned Mr. Wallace had known exactly what he was doing and just liked being a pain in the behind. And I’d hold it against him if I wanted. I had student loans to pay off after all, and even though there seemed to be a crop of funerals right now I sometimes went several weeks without having to prepare a burial.

“Well, it’s good of you to be so understanding,” he said. Several other people had moved in around us to hear better, not bothering to disguise the fact they were blatantly eavesdropping.

Martha had to fight through with the plates of food in her hand. It was a good thing I’d wanted a hamburger because that’s what she’d brought for us to eat. I couldn’t be so sure about Brody though. I winced in apology, but he only winked in response. He seemed to be enjoying himself.

“Comin’ through,” Martha yelled over the crowd. “I’ve got burgers with the works and fries.” My mouth watered, but I knew I’d be popping Tums all night long. “These are on the house considering you haven’t had a moment’s peace since you’ve been here. Enjoy.” She was off again, doing a hundred things at once and keeping all her customers happy, which was why she’d been in business so long.

I heard someone else pipe up after Martha had gone in response to what Ben had said about Harvey Wallace. I groaned as I recognized the voice.

Hilda Martin. The same Hilda Martin who’d trapped her daughter in the basement with her handyman just to get her married off. The same woman who sat like a sentry behind the register at the grocery store so she could see what everyone was buying—like tampons or pregnancy tests—and then spread the news all over town. She was also giving Brody shifty looks, and I knew she was trying to figure out a way to trap him in her basement with her youngest daughter Cleo.

“I don’t think you should make excuses for him, Ben,” Hilda said. “He knows perfectly well that it’s a direct insult to J.J. to move his business to another home when everybody knows she’s got dibs at St. Paul’s. It’s not right.”

There were a few head nods in agreement, and I had to keep myself from joining them. I kind of agreed with what she was saying. I did have dibs at St. Paul’s.

“And the man can stick his head in the sand all he wants, but a blind man could tell that Amanda had a lover. Husbands just don’t give a woman that same glow as a lover does. Look at J.J. here. She’s shining so bright she’s practically bursting with it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her looking so radiant.”

Every one turned from Hilda to stare at me and assess the damage. I did my best to ignore everyone by pretending they were all naked and their bodies were riddled with flaws. It didn’t take away the embarrassment, but it made me feel better about myself.

“Roberta Clack over at the pharmacy said she couldn’t blame Amanda one bit for going to another man, because she’d heard that Harvey has a problem with his you know what,” Hilda said, pointing at her crotch, which I guess was her way of letting us know that he was impotent. Either that or maybe he could never get the tab in his zippers to lay down flat. Sometimes I had problems with that, too. “And Roberta said he refused to do anything about the matter.”