Ham Bones (7 page)

"What in the hell is going on?" Tinkie rushed through
the parlor and came to stand by my side. "Coleman, what
on earth are you doing?"

"Dewayne, put Sarah Booth in the car." Coleman stepped
between Tinkie and me. "Stay out of this, Tinkie. Let justice take its course. The best thing you can do is call a
good lawyer for Sarah Booth and then see a bail bondsman. I'll speak to the judge and see if she won't let Sarah
Booth free on a small bail."

"What are you talking about? Let Sarah Booth go!"
Tinkie reached around him and grabbed my elbow. "Take
those handcuffs off her this instant! Stop this foolishness,
Coleman! This is the woman you love!"

Coleman removed Tinkie's hand from my elbow. I was
still too stunned to gather my wits. I was being dragged
from my house in a pair of PJs and no shoes. The reality
finally dawned on me and I applied my brakes. Dewayne
looked at Coleman for guidance.

"I didn't kill Renata" I wanted to slap Coleman's carefully controlled face for making me say such a thing.
"Why would you think I did?"

Coleman's expression was stony-the same as when
I'd answered the door. "Renata Trovaioli was poisoned
with cyanide."

"Big deal. Where would I get cyanide, and how would
I get her to take it? In case you've forgotten, Renata didn't
exactly like me. She wouldn't eat poison just because I
asked her to" I could feel the heat rising through my body. I was madder than I'd ever been in my life. Mad and
betrayed-a bad combination.

"The poison was administered in a tube of lipstick."
Coleman stared into my eyes as he spoke. "A tube of special lipstick that you picked up for Renata in Memphis."

If Reveler had kicked me in the gut, I couldn't have
been more surprised. "Lipstick? There was poison in the
lipstick?"

"Don't say another word" Tinkie slipped around Coleman and put her finger on my lips. "I'll get a lawyer for
you, and I'll get the bail. Just don't say another word,
Sarah Booth"

"But I didn't-"

"I know, but it doesn't matter. Do the smart thing and
shut your mouth"

I clamped my lips shut with an audible sound.

"At least let her change into some clothes," Tinkie
said. "This is absurd, Coleman. She isn't going to run off.
Let her wash her face and get properly dressed"

He nodded and Dewayne unlocked the handcuffs. Tinkie took my elbow and guided me toward the stairs. "Take
a quick shower," she whispered. "They'll wait, and you'll
feel better."

Good hygiene was Tinkie's answer to almost anything.
In this case she was correct. I wanted a shower, clean
clothes, and brushed teeth, because as clean as Coleman
kept the jail, it still wasn't a place I wanted to perform my
morning ablutions in.

When I came down, dressed and scrubbed, Dewayne
signaled for me to hold out my wrists. My gaze was
locked with Coleman's as Dewayne snapped the handcuffs shut. There was nothing Coleman could do that
would ever make up for this moment. Nothing. He could
have come alone and taken me back to jail without all this formality and fanfare. He could have told me he was
sorry, that he knew I was innocent but that the law demanded a certain protocol. The route he'd chosen, though,
was the most publicly humiliating for me.

When I stepped onto the porch I was met by a strobe
flash from a camera. Gavin, the hairy-legged reporter
with shoes that ate his socks, stood in my driveway with a
camera. He popped off another shot before Coleman
threatened him into running away. Still, it was too late.
My fantastic review in this morning's issue of the Dispatch would be replaced by a photograph of me being led
to jail like a murderer.

Dewayne put his hand on the top of my head as he assisted me into the car. Gavin rushed up and took another
shot. I thought for a minute that Coleman was going to strip
the camera from his hand, but he did nothing. Nothing.

"I'll be there soon," Tinkie whispered through the
back window that was opened a crack. "I'm calling Harry
DeLa Bencher, the best criminal lawyer in Memphis. I'll
get the bail money, too"

The reality of my plight hit hard. "Tinkie, I don't have
enough money for bail. Dahlia House is mortgaged to the
hilt. There's nothing valuable here. My car is an antique."
The only things of real value were Reveler and Sweetie
Pie, and that made me realize I hadn't seen my hound all
morning.

"Find Sweetie!"

She nodded. "I'll take good care of her and the horse.
Don't worry about a thing."

That was easy for her to say. She wasn't the one being
dragged off to jail on a murder charge by the man to
whom she'd given her heart.

Bitter irony is sitting in a cell talking to a defense
lawyer with the last name DeLa Bencher. With each passing second I felt worry wrinkles take hold in my face.

"Your predicament is serious, Ms. Delaney." He
pushed horn-rimmed glasses up his patrician nose. His
face didn't have a single line or wrinkle. I couldn't be certain if that was because he was young or because he was
a sociopath with no conscience and therefore didn't
worry.

"It may look serious," Tinkie said, pacing the corridor
outside my cell, "but Sarah Booth is innocent. Surely you
can prove that"

"Innocence and guilt aren't my concern." Harry gave
Tinkie a look of pure surprise. "Facts and evidence are
what I need. Emotion never won a case"

"I'd feel a lot better if you pretended to believe me"
The sound of keys jingling drew my attention to the door
that separated the jail from the sheriff's office. One last
smidgen of hope that Coleman would come and unlock
my cell still lived in my heart.

"A good lawyer never invests emotionally, Ms. Delaney.
I can assist you best as an impartial advocate"

"How much is this impartiality going to cost me?"

"Never you mind, Sarah Booth," Tinkie spoke up.
"Oscar and I are taking care of Mr. Bencher's fee."

For the moment. But that bill would come home to
roost. Tinkie was my friend, not my protector. It wasn't
her responsibility to pay for my legal fees.

The sound of shouting came from the sheriff's office. I
could hear Coleman, but the other voice, male, I couldn't
identify.

When the door flew open and Keith Watley dramatically swept toward my cell, I knew exactly what had happened. The director had finally heard that his leading lady was in the slammer for murdering his prior leading lady.
Keith was having rough luck in Zinnia.

"Sarah Booth, the provincials have gone insane!" Keith
stuck his arms through the bars and waved them until I
stood and let him hold my hand. "I have a rehearsal scheduled for three this afternoon, and that buffoon of a sheriff
says he won't release you until a bond hearing."

"We're working on it." Tinkie stepped forward.

"What morons these people are!" Keith pulled my
hand through the bars and brought it to his lips. "They are
too dull to see talent when it shines in front of them"

"They aren't concerned with Sarah Booth's acting
ability," Tinkie cut in. "They think she's a murderer"

"Rubbish! Sarah Booth is a gentlewoman. She's dramatic, not homicidal."

Tinkie rolled her eyes. "If she needs a character witness we'll be sure and call you"

Before I had a chance to pipe up, the jail door opened
and Coleman stood silhouetted in the doorway. He held
a paper in his hand as he came toward us. "This is a
search warrant for Dahlia House and your car." He
handed it to Harry. Without another word, he turned and
walked away. The door closed behind him, leaving silence.

"Well, he's certainly acting like a total prick." Tinkie's
face was pale.

"He's acted like a jerk the entire time." My heart was
breaking, but I was too mad to show it.

"He's acting like the law in Sunflower County," Harry
said. "No more and no less."

"You can say that" Tinkie pointed one manicured finger in his direction. "But he's slept with Sarah Booth and
he's acting like a total pri-"

"I have not slept with Coleman." My statement came
out like metal on cement.

"You haven't?" Tinkie was puzzled.

"I have not" If Coleman was going to treat me like a
killer, I didn't want everyone to think he'd been privileged to taste my favors.

"Good" Harry stacked his papers and stood. "It would
be a conflict of interest."

"Tell me about it," I murmured.

"I'll see you at the preliminary hearing." Harry picked
up his briefcase and yelled for someone to let him out of
the cell.

With Tinkie and Oscar's help, I bonded out by early
afternoon. When I got to Dahlia House, Gordon Walters
was just packing up his gear. Tinkie had driven me, and
she confronted him.

"Well, I guess you didn't find a single thing." She put
her hands on her tiny hips and tapped her foot, the chic
leopard print going up and down like a big cat's tail.

"You know I can't talk to you about what we found"
Gordon was in a hurry to skedaddle.

"Then you did find something." Tinkie moved so that
she was between him and his patrol car.

"Tinkie, you know I can't talk about that"

"You'd better start talking. You know Sarah Booth didn't
hurt anyone"

He cast a look at me as I stood on the front lawn. I felt
violated. My home had been invaded and inspected by
Coleman's henchmen. Not even Coleman himself. He'd
sent Gordon to do his dirty work.

"I have to go "" He started past Tinkie, but she wasn't to
be so easily thwarted. She grasped his arm.

"What did you find? We have to know."

Gordon looked into her eyes, seemingly transfixed.
"Nothing in the house. It was the car."

We all swiveled to look at my roadster, parked by the
side of the house. "What did you find?" Tinkie's grip
must have increased because Gordon looked down at her
hand on his arm.

He sighed. "There's some white powder in the trunk.
Coleman sent some of the state poison experts over to
check it out. Based on the smell, they seemed to think it
was potassium cyanide."

I felt the need to vomit. The sickness hit me hard and
violently, and I staggered to the steps to sit down. "Poison?" I managed to ask.

"Cyanide is a poison. We found it in the trunk, Sarah
Booth" This time his gaze searched my face, trying to
read guilt, I supposed.

"I never had any cyanide. I wouldn't even know where
to get it." I forced myself to my feet. "You have to believe
me, Gordon. I didn't do this."

"It sure stretches the imagination, Sarah Booth. But
the evidence doesn't lie. That's why Coleman sent me
over to do the search instead of coming himself. He didn't
want folks saying that he let his feelings for you taint the
evidence."

"Then he expected to find evidence." That stung, and
my already weakened gag reflex threatened again.

Gordon shook his head. "This is killin' him, too. My
advice is that you come up with a way to explain how that
stuff got in your trunk." His face brightened. "Maybe you
were hauling pesticides or something. I don't know much
about poison but that might be the answer."

"I haven't hauled anything like that in my trunk" I felt
as if I'd been gutted.

"If Sarah Booth decided to kill Renata, she wouldn't
be so stupid as to leave traces of the poison in her car."
Tinkie put her hands on her hips. "This is absurd."

"I'm not disagreeing, Tinkie. But you two had better
come up with some good answers" Gordon was as glum
as I was.

Tinkie straightened to her full five-two height. "You
can bet we'll do that and more. Sarah Booth didn't harm
Renata or anyone else. She's being framed! And we're
just the detectives to prove it!"

I held onto Tinkie's bold words as I stood in the wings
at The Club waiting for my cue to enter the stage. Tinkie
had been kind enough to arrange a different dressing
room for me actually, Graf had swapped out with me.
And he'd done his best to try to talk to me, but I avoided
him and everyone else. Backstage, in the kitchen, in the
ladies' room, in the audience the whispers were everywhere. Most people viewed Renata's demise as a tragic
misfortune. A few who'd met her on a personal level
might think the great karmic wheel had crushed her by
the weight of her own bad behavior. And then there were
a handful of people who thought I'd really killed her for
the chance to play Maggie.

"Don't think about anything except the play." Graf
came up behind me and put his arms around me, hugging
me back against him. "When we're on the stage, the only
reality is the role we're playing. It has to be that way or it
won't work. Here is the only place you're safe, Sarah
Booth"

What he said was true, and it was something I'd just
learned the night before, when I'd first replaced Renata.
As soon as I walked onto the stage, I'd forgotten every thing but the challenge of bringing Maggie the Cat to life.
All of my worries, concerns, and grief had fallen away,
leaving only the art of creating a whole new person by action and voice. It had been all consuming, and I lusted to
feel it again.