Tied With a Bow and No Place to Go (Tizzy/Ridge Trilogy Book 3) (13 page)

Kassie fidgeted in her seat. “What do you mean, you’ll be in
touch?”

“Touch me, touch me!”

“You were married to the man. I thought you’d be interested
when I have a suspect in custody.”

Kassie glanced around the room as if confused by the
statement. “Oh . . . that. Sure.” She slid the chair back, stood and walked
around the table, then into the hall, not stopping to say another word.

He followed her to the front door and once it closed behind
her, he faced Rita. “Got any updates for me?”

She shuffled notes. “I contacted the liquor store. Turns
out, the guy working today is a friend of mine. Anyway, Fenton said he sold
several bottles in the last month, but doesn’t recall selling to anyone who
matches the description of your mystery man. Unfortunately, he’s still a
mystery.”

“Damn. Did you happen to ask if he has a security camera?”

“He has one, but it hasn’t worked in a couple of months.”

“Just my luck. I’ll drive to Tyler and check out Kassie’s
alibi. I have her husband’s work number, so I’ll call on the way. See you
later.” His phone chirped. “Cooper. What’s up Doc?” As he listened, he eyed
Rita. “Right, Ted. I appreciate you getting this done so fast. Any idea when
the body will be released?—Okay. Email me the full report. Thanks, man.”

“Do we have cause of death?” Rita asked.

“Overdose of Xanax. According to Ted’s test of the whiskey,
that’s how the drug was delivered into Jay Roy’s system, so Ted’s ruled it a
homicide. That changes my plans.”

“How’s that?”

“Nobody had to be there to administer the drug, so alibis
don’t mean anything.”

“Is he finished with the autopsy?”

“Should be done with it by tomorrow. That’s good news for
the family. Now they can plan the funeral.”

~~*~~

Rayann sat motionless for a long time after her friend’s
report and Tizzy felt guilty. She admitted she’d done a terrible job of
breaking the news, but in retrospect, there wasn’t an easy way to relate that
information. Even after Tizzy backtracked and explained how she and Jinx didn’t
witness any romance between Dwayne and the woman, she wasn’t sure Rayann bought
it.

Rayann shook her head and came from her daze. “I want to see
the woman.”

“You saw her picture,” Tizzy said.

“That’s not good enough. I need to see her in the flesh. I
want answers. Who is she? Where did she come from? Why is Dwayne meeting her?
Regardless of what’s going on, I deserve the truth. I need the truth.”

“Damn straight!” Synola said, and scribbled something on her
notepad.

“What’d you write?” Rayann asked.

Synola read. “Regardless of who you are, or where you’re
going, you deserve the fit of Luscious Leg Jeans. I write some of my best
slogans when I’m with y’all and my boss at LLJ loves them!” She closed the
spiral. “Back to your problem. I’m with you on this one. I say we go back to
the lake and kick some houseboat butt.”

Tizzy frowned at Synola. “You are not helping.” Then she
looked at Rayann. “How do you wanna do this?”

“You know where she lives, so I want to stake the place out
like you and Jinx did. If she leaves, we’ll follow her. If we find out where
she works, then we can find out her name. Once we do that, Jinx can run a
background check on her.”

“Listen to you getting badass!” Synola said.

“Okay. Let’s say we do that. Then what?” Tizzy asked.

Rayann scrunched her face. “What do you mean?”

“What are your plans? Confront her? Confront Bubba? If you
plan to approach the subject with either one of them, why not do it now?” Tizzy
sighed. “Save yourself grief. March up to her door, introduce yourself and ask
what the hell is going on?”

“Is that what you’d do?”

“Yes.” Tizzy’s stomach churned when she thought about the
pie therapy she’d given herself over Vienna. That wasn’t the direct approach,
but then again, Ridge wasn’t sneaking around meeting with the woman.

Synola chimed back in. “I vote for the surveillance. Let’s
find out everything we can, then Rayann can confront her. That way, she’ll be
armed with facts and the woman can’t lie.”

“C’mon, Tizzy. Please?” Rayann begged.

The desperate expression on her friends face was enough to
convince Tizzy. But she couldn’t help but have a bad feeling. This was a plan
that could go wrong. She lowered her shoulders in defeat. “Fine. When do you
want to go?”

The last time Tizzy checked the clock, it’d been
three-thirty a.m. She’d been dreaming of sitting in Nana’s sunny kitchen
listening to the coffee pot percolate. The sound turned out to be Ridge
snoring. Now, she fluttered her eyes open and focused on the digital numbers
one more time. Seven-thirty. She reached for him and found the bed empty.
Flopping onto her back, she heard muffled sounds from the kitchen. Ridge’s
mellow tone and Gracie’s giggle were unmistakable.

A stab of guilt played in her chest, causing it to tighten.
Last night, she’d not been honest. She’d skirted the truth. He agreed to spend
the day with Gracie, while Tizzy went shopping.

Cuddles jumped onto the bed and stuck her nose in Tizzy’s
face. Tizzy raked her fingers through yellow fur and spoke to the cat. “Okay,
shopping is about discovery and we’re going to discover all we can concerning
the houseboat woman. Not a complete lie—more like a fib. An iddy-biddy white
lie. That’s not too sinful—is it?”

Cuddles purred.

“I thought you’d agree.”

She pushed the guilt away, got up and walked into the
bathroom. After brushing her teeth, she strolled into the kitchen. Gracie sat
at the bar eating a stack of pancakes and Ridge stood next to the stove with a
spatula in his hand.

“Are you cooking?” Tizzy asked.

“Aw, Momma. You weren’t supposed to come here. You spoiled
our surprise,” Gracie whined.

Tizzy stretched her arms out straight and wiggled her
fingers at Gracie. “Yooou didn’t seee me. I wasss nevvver heeere,” she said in
her best spooky voice, backing down the hallway.

Gracie’s laughter sputtered out along with pancake.

Tizzy slipped back into bed and ten minutes later, Ridge and
Gracie delivered breakfast.

“That smells delicious,” Tizzy said. “Did you pick those
flowers?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Tizzy lowered her head to the blooms and sniffed. “Hmm, they
smell so good.”

Gracie crawled into bed and sat up on her knees. A bright
yellow bow rested on top of her ponytail. Tizzy smiled at the thought of the
big, bad Texas Ranger mastering that one hairstyle. She eyed Gracie. “Those
aren’t the shorts I laid out for you. What’s wrong? You didn’t like the red ones?”

Ridge placed the tray across Tizzy’s lap. “Tell Momma why
you didn’t want to wear them.”

Gracie wrinkled her face. “They were digging in my ditch.”

His brows rose almost into his hairline. “Jesus, where does
she get this stuff?”

Tizzy smiled. “This breakfast is scrumptious. Thank you and
Daddy for making it. What’s the occasion? It’s not my birthday.”

“Daddy said he’d been glecking you, so we needed to do
something special.”

“Well, he has been neglecting me, but this makes up for it.
What are you and Daddy doing today?”

“We’re going to the movies.”

“Okay, Missy Prissy. Why don’t you go get your pink purse
and let me talk to Momma a minute?”

“Give me sugar.” Tizzy pulled her into a hug, loving how her
little body felt. Gracie gave her a kiss, then jumped from the bed and
scampered out of the room.

“Will you be home before supper, or do Gracie and I need to
fend for ourselves?”

“I don’t know what time I’ll be back. Y’all grab a burger or
something.”

“Okay. I’ll see you when I see you. I love you,” he said and
kissed her.

“Thanks for breakfast. I’ll clean up the kitchen.”

Two hours later, Tizzy reclaimed the parking spot she and
Jinx had occupied before. Rayann sat in the front passenger seat, her
expression drawn with worry, and the camo shirt and pants she sported didn’t
help matters. The colors reflected onto her face all the way up to her blonde
hair, even dulling the green of her eyes.

Synola, sprawled in the backseat, unzipped her backpack.
“Y’all want a snack?” She rummaged through the bag. “I’ve got nutty bars,
potato chips, Cheetos, dry roasted nuts, banana chips, apples, oranges,
sunflower seeds, and peanut butter and crackers.”

Tizzy shook her head. “We’re a half mile from civilization,
but you’ve packed like we’re lost in the wilderness.”

Rayann laughed for the first time since they’d started the
trip, and Tizzy smiled.

“Hey, let’s not hear from you, G.I. Josephine,” Synola
snipped at Rayann. “Why the hell are you dressed as if you’re on a military
operation?”

“Duh.” Rayann scowled. “We’re undercover. I wanted to blend
in with the surroundings.”

“Well, mission accomplished. You practically disappear
against that tan leather seat.”

“Humph,” Rayann snorted. “You got anything to drink in your
doomsday survivor stock pile?”

Synola unzipped another pocket. “Water, cola, apple juice,
sports drink.”

“I’ll take water, please,” Rayann said and put binoculars
back in place to look again. “On TV, they make this stakeout stuff exciting,
but it’s boring as heck.”

A car came down the road toward the houseboat. “We have some
action,” Tizzy said.

The old yellow Volkswagen with more rust than paint stopped
in the middle of the road, right in front of the boat. The female driver honked
the horn. In a few minutes, Houseboat Woman emerged carrying a bag.

“What kind of garb is she wearing?” Rayann asked, and passed
the field glasses to Tizzy.

Tizzy focused on the red dress. A black lace-up vest,
cinched tight, made the woman’s boobs spill out of the top of her peasant
blouse. “Looks like she’s going to a party. What do you want to do?”

“I vote to stay and search the boat,” Synola said.

Tizzy looked over her shoulder. “Getting arrested for
breaking and entering is not on my to-do list. We’ll stick with our original
plan and tail her.” Tizzy hung back until the VW turned onto the main highway.
After twenty minutes, the Bug angled onto a small paved road lined with colored
flags. “What is this place?”

Up ahead, a banner strung from one side to the other, read:
Welcome to Maplewood Renaissance Festival. The VW veered into the left lane
marked for employees.

“Oh no.” Rayann buried her face in her hands. “I can’t
believe it. Dwayne’s involved with a milk maid.”

Tizzy drove to the entrance and the attendant motioned her
toward a parking spot. She wheeled in and looked over at Rayann. “Camo isn’t
the proper attire for this.”

“That’s okay. I came prepared.” She unbuttoned her shirt and
removed it to reveal a black tank top with the Sweet Thangs logo printed across
the front. Underneath the camo pants, she wore a pair of denim walking shorts.

“Okay. That’s more like it,” Synola said.

At the front gate, Tizzy paid the entrance fees, and a
jester passed out pamphlets, while a man dressed in a shirt with puffy sleeves
and a brocade vest, greeted the trio. “Good morrow, maidens. Failte!”

Synola frowned at Tizzy. “What did he say?”

“He said good day ladies, welcome.” Rayann held up the
brochure. “This has a list of renaissance words and terminology.”

Tizzy spun in a circle. “Did y’all see which way the woman
went?”

Rayann studied the flyer. “No, but here’s a map of the
grounds.”

Puffy shirt said, “Doest thee wish games or shops, or mayhap
jousting or falconry?”

Synola leaned in to Rayann and asked, “How do you say kiss
my ass?”

“Pog mo thoin,” Rayann said.

“Are you shittin’ me? That’s listed?”

“Yep.” Rayann pointed to the paper.

“Shops, kind sir,” Tizzy said.

He folded the brochure and pointed.

“Gra—more, uh, Grammery,” Rayann said.

“Right. Whatever.” Tizzy led the way past a jewelry shop, a
minstrel plucking out a tune on a mandolin, a tee-shirt salesman, and a fairy
selling flower halos.

After several gift purchases for Gracie, she continued on,
Rayann and Synola behind her. Wandering performers strolled through the crowd.
A fire spitter blew flames from his mouth. A juggler tossed striped balls in
the air. Two winged fairies danced, twirling wands with colored ribbons.

Rayann grabbed Synola into a tight hug. “Oh no. A mime.
They’re so scary.”

“Give me a break, Rayann.” Synola twisted her mouth into a
frown. “I can see why you think a guy wearing striped pants and suspenders is
terrifying. Now, let go of me.”

As Rayann released her grip, overhead, a falcon screeched
and swooped low. She threw her arms and legs around Synola’s neck and waist.
“Oh my Lord!” Rayann screamed.

Synola lost her footing, knocking Tizzy, Rayann, and herself
across the back end of a centaur. The muscular man tried to upright them.

“I am so sorry,” Tizzy said, getting back to her feet,
pulling her friends up with her.

“Pray pardon me,” Centaur said.

As they walked away, Synola said, “That’s funny. You could
call him a horse’s ass and be correct.”

A roar from the crowd got their attention. Tizzy moved
toward the sound, pulling Rayann and Synola along. As they broke through the
gathering, Tizzy read the banner. Drench-a-Wench. On the platform sat Houseboat
Hussy.

“Oh, this is perfect.” Synola rubbed her hands together like
an evil villain. “I knew someday being the best high school softball pitcher in
our district would come in handy.” She smiled at Rayann. “How many times doest
ye want thee unfair maiden to go down?”

“I don’t know,” Rayann said.

“Oh good grief. Don’t be such a sissy. Should I dunk her or
not? She’s meeting Dwayne in secret, that’s enough reason to drench the wench.”
Synola didn’t wait for an answer. She rushed to the ticket booth and made her
purchase, handed Tizzy her purse, stepped to the line, drew back and threw a
hard one. A bell sounded and the girl hit the water. The crowd cheered.