Joan Hess - Arly Hanks 11 (7 page)

I had made no measurable progress in determining the nature of Dahlia's mysterious outings. I decided to leave before the babies woke up and I found a particularly leaky one thrust into my arms. I have nothing against babies as a subspecies, but I prefer them at a civilized distance. Needless to say, Ruby Bee is not pleased with my attitude, and swears that she breaks out in hives whenever I admit it.

"That cat business is an old wives' tale," I said as I gulped down some coffee and stood up. "Thanks for letting me see Kevvie Junior and Rose Louise."

"Her name's Rose Marie."

"And an adorable name it is." I hurried back to my car, shivering as the wind sent leaves skittering down the road. As I drove past Raz Buchanon's shack, I caught a glimpse of a glistening pink snout behind a windowpane.

I did not blow a kiss.

The red light on the answering machine was flashing when I went into the PD. It was likely to be someone other than Ruby Bee, who's been known to leave half a dozen messages telling me how much she hates to talk to my "dadburn silly contraption." She and Estelle had left the previous morning on their grand adventure, although she'd sounded rather grumpy about it when she'd come by to leave a schedule and tell me (in mind-numbing detail) how to get hold of her in an emergency. I had a feeling she suspected the first thing I'd do once she was past the city limits sign would be to elope with a backwoods Buchanon like Diesel, who, as far as anybody knew, was still residing in a cave on Cotter's Ridge and biting heads off live squirrels and rabbits.

I hit the rewind button on the machine and sat down, bracing myself for anything from Kevin's nasal whine to the mellifluous baritone of Prince Charming himself. What I heard was Harve's drawl.

"Hey, Arly, I got a whole damn stack of messages from that preacher in Scurgeton. He wasn't real happy with the way you interviewed him. Now I'd never for a second think you might have smarted off with him, 'cause you and I both know you're a proper little lady." He sighed so I could appreciate the depths of his misery. "Thing is, I'm still up to my ass with this drug case. The district attorney put together a task force, and most of 'em are sprawled on the sofas in the break room, eating doughnuts and driving LaBelle so crazy she's gone and locked herself in the restroom. The DEA is having us track down every last customer over the last five years. There's a membership list on account of it being a private club, but you wouldn't believe how much of it is either fake or out of date."

"Yeah, I would," I inserted as I was treated to yet another sigh.

"You go see that preacher and talk some sense into him before I lose my temper and go out there myself. You wouldn't want me to disgrace the dignity of my office, would you?"

The message ended with a burp. The day was not shaping up well. Dahlia was definitely out of sorts, but I wasn't prepared to keep her under surveillance unless Kevin and Eileen came up with proof, or even a hint, of something multifarious. The Reverend Hitebred needed an exorcist -- or sessions with a shrink. There were no chicken-fried steaks, biscuits and gravy, and black-eyed peas in my immediate future.

I was trying to decide what kind of soup to have for lunch when Mrs. Jim Bob came into the PD, closed the door, and sat down across from me as if settling down to knit and purl her way through a beheading. A word of welcome on my part would have been hypocritical, so I merely waited.

Once she'd put her purse by her feet and removed her gloves, she acknowledged me with a sniff and said, "I've come to discuss a date for the rummage sale at the Voice of the Almighty Lord Assembly Hall."

"I'd donate the shirt off my back, but it's the only clean one I've got until I get by the Suds of Fun to run a load," I said. "As for a date, I'm not ready for a relationship just yet."

"I told Jim Bob he was making a big mistake when he hired you. If you don't mind your mouth, you'll find yourself mopping the floor at the Suds of Fun."

"Does this mean you don't want a date after all?" I said with a stricken look. "I can picture us on the swing on your front porch, sipping lemonade as the moon rises over the ridge. Of course we'd better wait until the evenings are warmer and the scent of honeysuckle fills the breeze. I'll bring my kazoo to serenade you."

Mrs. Jim Bob did not appear to share my idyllic fantasy. "You'd better mend your ways if you want to keep your job, missy. Don't think for a second that Jim Bob won't hear about your disrespectful attitude as soon as he gets back from the Municipal League meeting." She smiled grimly, no doubt envisioning my dismissal (with a tar-and-feathering as the grand finale), then said, "I have set the date of the rummage sale for two weeks from Saturday. I'll need you to direct traffic from seven in the morning until midafternoon. I see no reason why we can't use the parking lots at the bank and the old hardware store, as well as the one behind the Assembly Hall."

"Did Queen Elizabeth donate a few choice pieces from the crown jewels?"

"I shall require each family in the congregation to make a substantial donation of clothing and household goods. Eula Lemoy has been assigned to make sure that the sale is listed in the community calendars of the
Starley City Star Shopper
and the
Farberville Gazetteer.
We will have not only quality merchandise for sale, but also sandwiches, hot dogs, cookies, soft drinks, and coffee. Brother Verber and I prayed for guidance, and the Lord has promised tolerable weather and a fine turnout."

"Are you sure the Lord approves of all these financial dealings in a house of worship? Didn't Jesus boot the money changers out of the temple?"

Mrs. Jim Bob raised her eyebrows. "Well, it's good to see that you still remember stories from your Sunday school days, even though everybody knows you became an atheist when you went to live in New York City. I suppose your mother's grateful you didn't become a streetwalker at the same time."

"I've enjoyed chatting with you," I said, "but I need to go hunt for satanists in Scurgeton. If I catch them, I'll confiscate their black candles and pickled newts' eyes for your rummage sale."

"Just mark your calendar," she said as she picked up her handbag and started toward the door. "I'll expect to see you at seven sharp that morning."

"Don't bet the farm on it," I muttered as the door slammed.

"Is Todd sick?" Estelle asked Taylor as they watched Baggins load the duffel bags into the back of the van. "When I said good morning to him, all he did was growl."

Taylor glanced over her shoulder, then said, "I'm afraid he had too much to drink last night. He kept insisting it was his bachelor party and buying rounds for everybody. When the club closed, an old friend from Little Rock had to help me carry him out to a cab."

Baggins slammed down the compartment door. "You ladies enjoy your complimentary breakfast?"

Estelle glared at him. "As much as anyone would enjoy stale doughnuts and lukewarm coffee. Elvis didn't stay in any cheap motels in Tupelo, did he?"

Taylor pointed her finger at Baggins. "If we're forced to spend another night in a place like this, Todd and I will sue C'Mon Tours in small claims court and demand a full refund."

"You do that," said Baggins, who'd heard variations of the sentiment on every trip. "Y'all be aiming to stand here much longer?"

Estelle and Taylor climbed into the van. Todd was sprawled across the last seat, his face pressed against the upholstery. Cherri Lucinda and Stormy were in the seat in front of him, and in front of them, Ruby Bee and Rex sat in stony silence.

"Everybody seems a might glum," whispered Estelle as she and Taylor took the first seat.

"Maybe the sirens kept them awake last night," Taylor said, thumping the back of Baggins's seat in case he hadn't heard her.

If he had, he ignored her. "Here's the schedule for the day," he said loudly. "We should be at Graceland Plaza in fifteen minutes. You can take the full tour or any part of it you choose, visit the gift shop, and eat lunch in one of the restaurants. We'll meet back at the van at noon and leave right away for Tupelo."

"Are you going to stay with the van while we're at Graceland?" asked Stormy.

He looked up at the rearview mirror, then turned around and gaped at her. "What'd you do to your hair, woman? It looks like you stuck your head in a bucket of pitch."

"How would you like to have that stick shift crammed up your nose?" she countered.

Estelle managed to stop short of smacking him. "I happen to think it looks real cute."

"But it's all shaggy like it was hacked off with a dull pocketknife," said Baggins, his eyes still wide with horror.

Stormy held up a fist. "You want to meet me in front of the van and repeat that?"

"Don't change how it looks," Baggins mumbled as he started the engine.

The van pulled out of the Starbright Motel parking lot. Estelle considered suggesting that they sing Elvis songs to get in a jolly mood, but she had a feeling it wouldn't sit well. Ruby Bee had seemed a bit better when she woke up, and had even choked down a doughnut. For the moment, anyway, her eyes were open and she seemed to be taking an interest in the storefronts and buildings they passed.

Even though the sky was overcast, the professor was wearing his hat and sunglasses. He was acting kind of squirmy, Estelle thought as she watched him in the mirror, what with the way he kept stealing looks out the back window like he was worried that a police car would pull them over. Yesterday she wouldn't have been surprised, but for now Baggins was driving in a mannersome fashion.

Estelle patted Taylor's knee. "I guess you're starting to get fluttery. What kind of arrangements did you make with the folks at the chapel in Tupelo?"

"Nothing much. One of the ladies who works at the museum offered to pick up a small bouquet for me to hold, and a justice of the peace will be there to take us through the vows. I'm really upset with Todd. If he doesn't start feeling better, we may end up with a funeral instead of a wedding." She pulled off her glasses and cleaned them with a tissue, then put them back on and gave Estelle a wan smile. "Do you think I'm doing the right thing to insist we get married this way? I don't want Todd's mother to hate me because of it."

"There's no point in worrying about it now," Estelle said briskly. "Once she calms down, you can explain how you eloped because you didn't want to spend their money -- even though it sounds like they have plenty of it."

"Todd's father is a senior partner in one of those law firms with so many names that the receptionist nearly hyperventilates every time she answers the telephone. If Todd succeeds in putting himself through law school and passes the bar, he'll be given a position at the firm."

"He has to pay his own way through school?"

Taylor began to twist the tissue in her lap. "He got into some trouble when he was an undergrad. His father saw to it that the charges were dropped, but then told Todd he was on his own until he graduated from law school."

"Serious trouble?"

"Not that serious. Something about a stripper claiming she was pushed around at a frat party. Todd assured me that he was an innocent bystander who got dragged into it because of his family name. His grandfather was lieutenant governor, and a great-uncle was on the state supreme court."

"Is that so?" said Estelle, more intrigued by the here and now. "What about your family?"

"We didn't exactly get off the
Mayflower
with the Peels, if that's what you mean. Cotton farmers, mainly, although acreage was sold over the years and there's less than a thousand acres left. As soon as the probate's resolved, the house and property are going on the market. I had my fill of boll weevils when I was growing up. I was sent to boarding schools back East, and cried every year when the spring semester ended and I had to go home for the summer."

She looked like she was on the verge of doing it right then, so Estelle changed the subject. "How did you and Todd meet? Did you have a class together?"

"Someone introduced us at a party. I wonder how much longer it's going to take to get to Graceland?"

"Five minutes," said Baggins.

Taylor glanced over her shoulder. "I hope Todd can hang on that long."

Somehow or other, he did. Baggins drove into a vast parking lot, cut off the engine, and put on his C'Mon Tours cap. "Follow that path to the visitors center, where you can buy your tickets for the guided tours and shop for souvenirs. Be back here at noon, 'cause I ain't waiting on you if you're late."

Todd was the last one to climb out of the van. Taylor reached for his arm, but he brushed past her and ducked around the back of the van. Unpleasant noises hinting of gastric distress suggested he had not yet recovered from what ailed him. Taylor grimaced, then followed his route.

Estelle nudged Ruby Bee. "Let's go on to the center. You know, in a funny way I feel like we're coming home for a cozy visit with kinfolk. Elvis wasn't like those conceited rock stars you read about today. He was one of us."

"I've always loved peanut-butter-and-banana sandwiches," said Cherri Lucinda.

"Fried?" said Rex, sneering at her.

"Yeah, fried," she said, then tugged at Stormy's arm. "We're wasting time we could be spending at Graceland. I can hardly wait to see the Jungle Room. Elvis himself picked out all the furnishing at a Memphis store in just thirty minutes. I'll bet not even Martha Stewart could have done it any faster."

Stormy looked at Baggins. "I asked you this once already, but you didn't bother to answer. Are you going to stay with the van?"

"I might get myself some coffee and a sandwich," he said. "I'll be sure to lock the van before I go, so you got no call to worry about your duffel bag. Remember to be back here at noon, everybody. I don't want to come looking for you all like you're kiddies on a school field trip."