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Authors: Carolyn Haines

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I shook my head. "Soon, though. There's no reason for
him to hold them longer."

"Except that one of them likely killed Renata "

"There's no evidence to that effect. I'm the one that all
the circumstantial evidence points to. I bought the lipstick, for which there's no record, cyanide was found in
my trunk, Nancy at the feed store heard me ask about
poisons, though it wasn't me "" I was digging my grave
with my words.

"The key word is circumstantial," Harold pointed out.

 

"I'm the best suspect. If I were sheriff, I'd arrest me"
That still didn't let Coleman off the hook. The problem
with Coleman was that I couldn't figure out what to feel
about him. He'd charged me with murder and treated me
like a criminal, yet I'd been making out with him only an
hour before.

Harold's eyebrows arched. "So you've forgiven Coleman?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. I don't know what to
feel about him."

"He has a job to do, Sarah Booth"

"And he has a wife. Connie is alive and getting well,
apparently."

"That's a tough nut," Harold said. He refilled my
champagne glass. "Concentrate on proving your innocence. Let Coleman handle his messy marital status"

"Good advice." I drained the glass and stood. The alcohol hit me hard and I staggered a little. Harold steadied
me as he walked me to the front door.

"A bit of cool air will revive you"

Cool didn't do the night justice. It was downright cold,
but it did snap me out of my stupor. "Tinkie will be here
soon"

"Here's a bit of cheerful news. In your absence, Cece
managed to spill a glass of motor oil on Booter. She left
in a huff." He was smiling.

"Motor oil? Where'd Cece get that?"

"Out of my garage, I presume. She said something to
me about Booter's pistons being stuck on bitch so she felt
it was her duty to `lube her up.' I didn't realize what she
intended until it was too late."

My smile was tired. "Cece is incomparable."

`Rooter was talking to Graf earlier. They were deep
into a discussion for about ten minutes in the backyard. I overheard their voices, but I couldn't hear what they were
saying."

 

I suddenly remembered the night at Harold's when I'd
eavesdropped on Hamilton Garrett V It seemed like a
lifetime ago. So many things had changed. "Maybe Graf
has a thing for Booter. She has money, and that's bound to
be attractive to Graf."

"He'll have plenty once he gets to Hollywood"

"True. If any of that is real."

"Your point is taken. In that case, Booter's bank account would be attractive."

"Graf has financial problems." Harold had been the
one who got the information for Tinkie, so I didn't bore
him by repeating the litany of Graf's debts.

"Sarah Booth, I know you didn't hurt anyone. But I
want you to know, should things go wrong, Dahlia House
won't be sold. Tinkie and Oscar and I have discussed this.
We'll figure a way."

Caught between fear and gratitude, I kissed his cheek.
"I have the most wonderful friends in the world."

"You won't lose your home. Or your hound or horse. So
put those worries behind you and prove yourself innocent."

As if his words were magic, Tinkie swung down the
driveway to pick me up.

"Thank you" I got into the car and Tinkie carried me
home.

When we got to Dahlia House, I turned to her. "Come
inside and have some coffee. Will Oscar mind?"

"He's asleep by now." She turned off the car, and we
walked across the porch together. Sweetie greeted us with
a lick before she ran outside to chase armadillos and
whatever else she could sniff out.

"What's on your mind?" Tinkie asked when she'd settled at the table and the coffee was brewing.

 

"I don't think we have a viable suspect" I could see
that my words rang true to her. She didn't even offer a
tiny argument. "That concerns me"

"I know." She slumped onto the table. "Graf is so perfect as a suspect, but I don't think he did it."

"I know. And Gabriel is good, too. But it just doesn't
hang together."

"Bobbe couldn't do it," she said.

"Nor Kristine."

"So where does that leave us?" she asked.

"Dangerously close to defeat"

She got up and walked to where I stood at the counter.
"We've been through a lot worse than this, Sarah Booth.
Only a few weeks ago, a serial killer was holding both of
us hostage. We'll figure this out and put this murderer behind bars"

"Have we overlooked someone? Someone right under
our noses?"

Tinkie tilted her head as she thought. "Who? Sir Alfred Bascomb?"

"We haven't checked him out thoroughly."

"You don't sound all that enthusiastic."

"It doesn't feel right. Sir Alfred really has nothing to
gain."

"That we know of." She got the heavy whipping cream
from the refrigerator and poured it into two cups. I added
the coffee.

"Someone from the audience?" I thought again of
Booter and Graf. We'd ruled Graf out as a suspect, and
Booter had no motive.

"What did you learn about this Robert Morgan?"

I filled her in on what Gabriel had told me, none of it
adding up to serious suspicion.

"He's the best we've got. I say we go for him."

 

We settled in at the table to drink our coffee. The clock
showed two A.M., but the next day was Saturday, and I didn't
have a single thing I had to do. The show was over. I could
collect my mother's dresses from The Club and resume
my life as a murder suspect. My moment of glory was passing, and even if Graf went to Hollywood, I wouldn't be allowed to leave Sunflower County.

"Cheer up, Sarah Booth, we'll--"

She didn't get to finish her sentence. The phone rang. I
picked it up, checking the caller ID to see that the call
came from The Gardens. "Hello"

"Sarah Booth, it's Graf. I just got a call from Morgan.
He's in Memphis. He says he has to see me. You and Tinkie want to come along?"

"You bet" I signaled Tinkie with excitement. "What
does he want? Did he say?"

"He said he had to talk to me. He said the cops are on
his tail, and he has things he has to get rid of before they
catch him."

This sounded like the most promising turn of events
since Renata had died. "Tinkie and I'll pick you up"

"No! I'm going alone. You two follow. I'm meeting
him in the bar of the Peabody Hotel. I told him I'd be
there in an hour."

"We're right behind you" I was undressing as I spoke.
I wanted my black jeans, boots, and my all-purpose
leather jacket.

"Do you have any jeans in the Caddy?" I asked Tinkie.

"I'm not going horseback riding at two in the morning. Not even for you" She walked to the coffeepot and
poured another cup.

"We're going to Memphis. Graf is meeting Robert
Morgan"

 

Her eyes widened, and then she bit her lip. "You can't
go, Sarah Booth. You can't leave the county."

"Watch me"

She frowned. "I'll go. You stay here"

"Not in this lifetime."

She sighed. "I have some khakis and hiking boots in
the trunk. I'll get them"

"Hurry. I'll fix a thermos of coffee for the drive."

 
Chapter 19

lo one followed us out of Sunflower County, but as a
precaution I slid down into the seat so that only Tinkie's head was visible. Well, partially visible. She's pretty
short.

Once we cleared the Sunflower County line, I sat up
and poured us both more coffee. My body ached with exhaustion. Tinkie had to be tired as well. All of the details
of the production had fallen on her shoulders for the past
month, and on top of that she was worried to death about
me.

"I'll be glad when this is over," I told her.

"Me, too" She hesitated. "What do we hope to gain by
going to Memphis?"

I didn't have a ready answer-at least not one I wanted
to give. "Graf said Morgan had some things he needed to
get rid of before he was picked up by the authorities.
Morgan knows he's a wanted man. If he's a killer, Graf
may be in trouble."
"

 

"And we're going to protect Graf? And do a better job
than Coleman could do?" She was dubious.

"We have surprise on our side. And no one will suspect you. And I told Graf we wouldn't notify the law unless he was in danger."

"Sounds like Graf has something to hide."

Ever astute, Tinkle went to the heart of the matter.
"You know he does. But even knowing all that I know, I
can't see Graf hurting Renata"

"Is this a smart decision?"

"I have to see Morgan. To be sure he's the man who
sold me that lipstick. If he is, then we'll figure out a way
to get Coleman to nab him." The truth was, Coleman was
hamstrung by legal procedure, and I wasn't. I'd taken no
oath of public office. I was a free agent, in a manner of
speaking. "It's just that we can be more subtle than Coleman."

"We can?"

I rolled my eyes. "Well, duh, Tinkie. We don't have to
wear a uniform."

"Should I call Coleman and at least tell him what
we're doing?"

I wanted to answer yes, but I didn't. I was violating my
bond, and no matter how worthy the cause, Coleman
would have to uphold the law. "It's best to leave him out
of it. He'll have to arrest me"

"What if this Morgan is dangerous?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. I just
want to see him. To see if he's the guy. Bobbe identified
him as the man hanging around the show all the time, but
if I can hook him into that lipstick. . ."

Tinkie gave up the argument as we entered the parking
garage. "We can hang out in the ladies' room until we fig ure out what's what" Tinkie tossed the valet her keys and
headed in.

 

"Keep the car available for a quick getaway." I gave
the valet twenty dollars and hurried after my partner. For
a short person, she could cover some ground when she set
her mind to it.

Like all of the Delta belles, Tinkie knew the Peabody
lobby like the back of her hand. High school and college
graduation spawned dozens of parties in the grand old
hotel where ducks waddled through the lobby each morning and afternoon on their daily march to the pond. The
Peabody retained the grandeur of a South long gone, and
it was revered in planter families like an old and glorious
family member.

We skirted the lobby, which was almost empty at
nearly four A.M. The hotel employees, who'd seen rich
people do all kinds of crazy things, paid us no mind. Finally we slunk into the ladies' room, which featured a
sofa to recline on, hot and cold washcloths, a drink machine, and ashtrays for those women who'd failed to give
up the habit but didn't smoke in public. Just the sight of
the porcelain designer ashtrays made me want to light up.

"Wait here. I'll do surveillance." Tinkie was out the
door before I could protest. It was the best plan, too. Morgan might recognize me, but he had no reason to know
Tinkie. Unless, of course, he'd been lurking around Zinnia and knew she was my best friend and partner.

I almost went after her, but I forced myself to wait.
Tinkie was capable. She'd fought a long, hard battle the
last few months to prove that to herself and to me and
Oscar. She'd willed or prayed or chanted a breast lump
away-with both Oscar and me sniping at her heels to go
to a surgeon. The least I could do was trust her enough to
spy around a lobby.

 

It was a long five minutes, but when she returned, she
had information. "Graf is in the bar, alone. He saw me,
but he only arched an eyebrow. He acted like he thinks
he's being watched"

"Excellent." I gave her a hug.

"You were worried about me," she accused.

"Damn straight."

She hugged me back. "That makes us even. So what's
the game plan?"

"You bribe the bartender to let you work the bar. I'm
going to" -I shook my hair loose and quickly worked it
into a French braid "pretend to be a janitor." Somewhere
I'd find brooms and cleaning supplies. There might also
be a shirt with the hotel insignia. "At this time of night, it
won't be odd to see someone cleaning, and once he
comes in and sits with Graf, I can get a good look and
then get out of there"

Tinkie's expression showed her doubt, but she kept her
lip zipped about it. "Okay, and then what?"

"When Morgan gets there, you can eavesdrop. See
what they're talking about. Just mix Morgan's drink really
strong"

"What are you going to do, jam him in your clean-up
cart and abduct him? Maybe break his kneecaps to make
him talk?" She put her hands on her hips.

"If I have to" I wasn't kidding. I was charged with
murder. This man might be able to prove I'd bought lipstick already coated with a deadly poison. A deadly poison that he'd likely applied to the lipstick.

"He's not going to say anything that would incriminate
himself."

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