Murder Gets a Life (16 page)

Sunshine smiled. “She’s an interesting lady, isn’t she?”

“As long as she has the whole gulf to fish in.” I stretched. My body was beginning to say 4
A.M.

“I need to go,” Sunshine said. “I shouldn’t have come here in the middle of the night, but I panicked when Dwayne came in telling me about Meemaw.”

“It’s going to be awfully hard for you to leave her to go to Bora Bora, isn’t it?”

“It’s going to break my heart.” The words were simple and heartfelt.

“Listen,” I said. “Why don’t you just lie down here on the sofa and sleep for a few hours. Call Dwayne if you think he might be worried. Incidentally, does Dwayne have a redheaded girlfriend?”

Sunshine looked startled. “An ex-girlfriend named Leeann Skinner. Real redheaded. Why? How did you know?”

“I think she was in the crowd looking for you. Made a couple of remarks.”

Sunshine managed a smile. “That would have been Leeann, all right. I’m glad she didn’t find me. She thinks I beat her out for Miss Locust Fork, too.”

“I think it’s just as well, too.” I smiled, too, thinking of the menace I had attributed to the “crawled from under a rock” whisper. “Why don’t you curl up and let me spread the afghan over you. You look worn out.”

“I am. You sure it’s all right?”

“I’ll get you a pillow. Or you can use the guest bedroom.”

“Here’s fine. Can the cat stay with me?”

“If she wants to. She decides.”

By the time I got back, Sunshine was almost asleep.

“One more thing,” I said. “This morning I saw you
on Twentieth Street. I tried to catch you, but you went out the back door of the hardware store.”

“Wasn’t me,” Sunshine said. She took the pillow. “Thank you.”

“Have a good nap.” I covered her and she sighed.

S
unshine was gone when we got up the next morning which didn’t surprise me. I wondered if she would go to the sheriff with the tale of the man who had killed Dudley Cross. I hoped if she did, that she would tell him about the man trying to come in the door of the bedroom as she went out the window. Not only did the “door” of the bedroom consist of blue-and-white-striped fabric, the windows were small and high. Sunshine, while not large, would have had a hell of a time getting out of one of those windows with a murderer chasing her.

But why had she lied about it?

I put on a fresh pot of coffee, poured myself a glass of cranberry juice, and went out to see about Woofer. He was so far back in his igloo that I had to kneel down to reach in and wake him up.

“Listen,” I said when he ambled out, “Haley’s getting married today. I think you ought to get a bath and put on your diamond collar.”

He wagged his tail in agreement.

Woofer’s diamond collar is a family joke. A distant cousin of mine died without a will and with no direct
heirs. So one day, out of the blue, a check arrived for me, my part of his estate, for $257. This is mine, I thought, a gift to buy anything I want. A new dress, shoes, books.

I spent a whole day trying to spend that money. Every time I’d see something I wanted, I’d think that if I spent the money then, I’d see something I wanted more later. What I finally bought was the rhinestone collar for Woofer. That was all. $20. Mary Alice bought a beautiful birdbath with her $257, St. Francis of Assisi blessing the birds with an outstretched hand that Sister swears stays full of bird crap. But it still looks good in the flower bed under her dining room window. I wish that was what I had bought. I don’t know what happened to my money except for Woofer’s diamond necklace.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” I said. “Let me go get some hot water.” We bathe Woofer in a child’s wading pool, and I like to have the water slightly warm. Well, he
is
an old dog.

“What are you doing?” Fred asked. He was pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Fixing to put on my Woofer-washing shorts. He’s dressing up because it’s Haley’s wedding day.”

Fred squinted at the outside thermometer. “Another hot one, too.”

“You got that right.” I finished my cranberry juice which was still on the counter.

“What time did Sunshine leave?”

“Don’t know. She slept for a while on the sofa but was gone when I got up. Told me a cock-and-bull story about the murderer trying to break down the bedroom door of the trailer and her having to climb out of the window.”

“Sounds smart to me. I’d run like hell, too.”

I put my glass into the dishwasher. “No door.”

Fred looked up from pouring milk into his coffee. “No door?”

“Meemaw’s trailer is one of those old ones that just has curtains between the bedroom and the other areas. And those windows are so little, Sunshine couldn’t even get her boobs through them.” I poured myself a cup of coffee. “You ask me, that girl’s got more than a passing acquaintance with a plastic surgeon.”

“Probably the same one her mother’s acquainted with.”

“Touché.” I grinned at Fred. Sometimes the old fellow still surprises me.

“You want me to help you with the dog?” he asked, looking pleased with himself.

“No. Just read the paper. If Mary Alice calls, tell her Sunshine was here last night and I’ll call her when I finish bathing Woofer.”

“You don’t think Sunshine went over to Mary Alice’s house?”

“No. She’s with that Dwayne Parker boy. She said she was staying with a friend of his, but I don’t buy that. She also said she wasn’t on Twentieth Street yesterday, and she’s lying about that.”

“Why, the shameless hussy.” Fred sat down at the kitchen table with the paper. I stuck my tongue out at him and went to get on my old shorts.

There’s something so very nice about bathing a dog—the feel of warm water running over your hand and his fur, the way he looks at you as if to say,
Are you sure this is necessary?

I squirted Palmolive on Woofer and lathered him. He sat in the wading pool, compliant, sweet, looking half the size he does when he’s not wet.

“We had a visitor at three o’clock this morning,” I told him. “You didn’t bark. Are you all right?”

Woofer held up his chin so I could wash his neck.
Three o’clock in the morning? Decent dogs are asleep in their beds then
.

“True. And you are a decent, good dog.” I finished lathering him and rinsed him with one of the pitchers of warm water.

“The water in the hose will be warm,” Fred said. He had come out on the deck and was watching us. “I’ll get it.”

“That cat was on the kitchen table again,” he said as we finished rinsing Woofer. He picked him up and handed him to me to towel dry. “Is there anything we can do about it? I was reading the damn paper and he jumped up there big as life.”

“Not a thing.” I rubbed Woofer’s head, the gray hair between his ears. “And the cat’s a she.”

“Well, she needs to learn to behave.” Fred dumped over the wading pool, let the water splash out. The August grass would appreciate it, even with the Palmolive. “Mary Alice called.”

“Did you tell her about Sunshine?” I gave Woofer a kiss on his nose and let him go to shake little rainbows into the air and to wallow in any dirt he could find.

“Didn’t have a chance. She was wound up about Haley going to the cemetery this morning.”

“What?”

“I don’t know. I told her you’d call her.”

“And you didn’t ask her what she was talking about?”

“Honey, you know I don’t get much sense out of your sister.”

“Lord, Fred, she’s not
that
bad.” I dried my hands
down the side of my shorts and headed for the phone. Haley going to the cemetery?

“God’s truth,” Sister said when I got her. “She and Nephew are going out to Tom’s grave before they come to the church. They’re taking flowers, and they’re going to have a conversation with him.” Sister paused. “A real one-sided one if you ask me.”

“A conversation?”

“I don’t know, Mouse. That’s just what Nephew said. I guess he’s going to tell Tom he’ll take good care of Haley or something like that. You really need to call her, and tell her not to do it.”

“But I think it’s sort of sweet. Letting Tom know he’s not left out.”

“Listen, Mouse. Tom
is
left out. The minute that eighteen-wheeler hit him, he was left out.”

“No, he wasn’t. He’ll never be left out of Haley’s heart. Or ours either.”

“Well, be that as it may, I’m telling you you ought to call and tell her not to go.”

“Why? Just because you don’t go out and visit your dead husbands doesn’t mean Haley shouldn’t.”

“I visit them on all of their birthdays, Miss Smarty-pants. Take flowers to every one of them. That’s not the point. What time is the wedding?”

I was slightly confused. “Eleven.”

“And how hot is it?”

“Very hot.”

“And they’re going to the cemetery before the wedding? They’ll be sweaty and wilted. Haley’s hair will be frizzed to hell and back in the wedding pictures. Incidentally, I hired a photographer. And what’s more, she’ll probably cry and her face will be all red and puffy.” Sister paused for breath. “You really ought to call them, Patricia Anne.”

“I’ll think about it.” I knew I wouldn’t. If Haley wanted to visit Tom one last time as his wife, that was her business. I changed the subject. “Sunshine was here at three o’clock this morning.”

“You’re kidding. Where is she now?”

“I have no idea.”

“Well, what did she want?”

“She wanted to know how Meemaw was. I told her what I knew. Have you heard anything else about her condition?”

“Haven’t heard this morning. And that’s another thing. What if Nephew and Haley have a heatstroke out there at Elmwood?”

No way I was going to get back on that subject.

“She said she saw the murderer and he saw her and that’s why she’s hiding.”

“Well, my Lord.”

“She also said she climbed out of the trailer window when he tried to come in the bedroom door.”

There was a long pause on Sister’s end of the line. I could see her picturing Meemaw’s trailer. I waited.

“That’s interesting,” she said, finally.

“Yes, it is.”

“Call Haley. I’ll see you at the wedding.”

A dial tone. Sister drives me nuts doing this, hanging up without so much as a goodbye.

I went to get Woofer’s diamond necklace. Muffin was sitting on the kitchen table looking at me as I came back through. “You’re not allowed up there,” I told her. Muffin yawned.

Haley and Philip got married. There was music, something classical that I didn’t recognize. The girls at the florist had come through with a large elegant arrangement of white flowers. Haley and Philip
walked down the aisle together while the photographer crawled across our feet to get a good shot. When they reached the altar, a young man and woman who had been sitting across from us got up to stand with them. Philip’s children.

Haley looked beautiful; Philip looked handsome. Neither looked sweaty or red in the face. They said their vows clearly while I snuffled all my green makeup off onto tissues.

Mary Alice sat across from us on the groom’s side. “Well, he
is
my nephew by marriage,” she explained at lunch. “And it looked bare over there. It’s tacky to take sides at such a small wedding anyhow.”

We had a private dining room at the Merritt House, a beautiful Victorian home on Birmingham’s Southside, just a few blocks from where Debbie and Henry live. Debbie had made it to the wedding, but Henry showed up for the lunch by himself explaining she couldn’t face food.

We met Philip’s daughter Jenny, and his son, Matthew. I reminded Fred they were now our step-grandchildren so he should be especially nice to them.

“Which is which?” he asked.

“Matthew is the one with the long blond hair.”

Fred squinted at Matthew. “Tell me he’s not wearing makeup.”

“Neither one of them is,” I assured him.

Fred rolled his eyes, but he went over to introduce himself.

Haley and Philip floated into the room. Hugs. Kisses. Champagne toasts. Beautiful and delicious food. Lisa, my daughter-in-law, leaned around Fred and informed me it was the best salmon she had ever
put in her mouth, and weren’t Philip’s children precious?

“Precious,” Fred said. I gave him a slight kick and he grinned. “And to think they’re our step-grandchildren now.”

“You deserve it,” Lisa said.

I gave him another kick, this one a little harder. He yelped which startled Lisa.

“Fish bone.” Fred pointed in the general direction of his mouth.

“Well, be careful, Pop. I haven’t seen a single bone.”

“I will,” Fred assured her, touching his thumb and forefinger delicately to his lips to extract the nonexistent bone. “Got it.”

“Good.” Lisa turned back to Alan. I turned to my right and talked to Ray.

Yes, indeed, Sunshine was fine. Three o’clock in the morning. She said to tell him she loved him.

Had she? I didn’t remember. But Ray looked pleased.

“She’ll be back probably tonight. She’s going to go talk to the sheriff this afternoon.”

Well, it
was
a wedding. A little lying is necessary.

Then the cake. The waiters cleared the table and we could hear them conversing in the hall. Then the door opened and two of them wheeled in the wedding cake, the most unusual wedding cake I have ever seen. Instead of a two- or three-tier cake with a bride and groom on the top, this seemed to be a huge mushroom.

Mary Alice stood up and saw that the waiters placed the cake just right, the more sloping side of the mushroom toward the wedding couple.

“Voilà,” she said to Haley and Philip. “You’ll never guess what it is!”

Haley and Philip looked at each other. “A mushroom?” Philip guessed.

“Close. I’ll tell you because you’ll never get it. You know what today is?”

“August sixth,” Haley said. “It’s Philip’s birthday.”

None of us had known this. There were calls of “Happy birthday” and a few claps. Haley leaned over and kissed him.

“But,” Sister said, holding up her hands to hush us, “on the day Philip was born, there was another earthshaking event. It was a big day all around.”

Fred and I looked at each other. We had both realized at the same time. “It’s an atom bomb cake,” he murmured.

“It’s an atom bomb cake,” Mary Alice announced. “Fireworks for your wedding day.”

“It explodes?” Haley asked, moving back slightly.

“Of course not. That was a metaphor.”

A metaphor? Sister was getting a lot out of her writing classes at UAB. I was downright proud of her.