Hot Tea (2 page)

Dutifully, she closed her eyes and said, “Done.”

“Picture the look on any guy’s face when he sees your boobs.”

She smiled and said, “Done.”

“That is the very same look I get when I just happen to mention that I can put my foot behind my head.”

Her eyes sprang open and she blurted, “The two aren’t even close.”

“I understand that, but it’s as close as I get, besides, some day your boobs are going to be down around your ankles, and my ankles are still gonna be up around my ears.  At that moment, I will have the last laugh.  All those years of flat chest jokes, and for once I will be the laugh-er and not the laugh-ee.”

“You really think so?”

“Why can’t you let me have this?” I whined at her.  “You were wearing lace when I was wearing a t-shirt.  You went through the alphabet like a teacher in a bad mood. 
I think an A, no wait, a B, will you look at that, a C, no, we’d better go with a D
.  It’s so unfair!  You’re still wearing lace, and I’m still wearing a damn t-shirt.  Why can’t you let me have this?  You have the boobs.  You have lace.  You even have thong underwear!  Why can’t I have this?”

“Wait a minute, what do you mean I have thong underwear?”

I started to pace while I explained, “Thong underwear goes with lacy big-boobed bras.  Thong underwear does not go with a t-shirt.  Cotton bikini underwear goes with a t-shirt, and if I’m going for really sexy, maybe I’ll get some at Victoria’s Secret, so that the little elastic band says their name, so Mr. Right, should I ever actually find him, will know that at least I know that there is sexy underwear out there, even if it’s not for me.  Let’s be honest, my womanly figure more closely resembles a 10-year-old boy than Marilyn or Raquel.  I’m many things in life, exotic goddess isn’t on the list Teagan.”

She rolled her huge blue eyes, “You can wear a thong if you want to.”

“No I can’t.  It wouldn’t look right, and now that I can put one foot behind my head, and I’m working on the other, it could cause some damage.”  The look on my sister’s face was priceless.  I love that look.  Deer in the headlights meets prom queen.  I continued my thought, “Anyway, I’m thinking about going commando.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“No it isn’t.”  I argued, “You only wear clothes once before you wash them so what’s the difference?”

“The eeewwww factor!”

“Can we get back to the issue at hand?”

Her turn to be exasperated, “Fine, guys drool when you say you can put your foot behind your head, how does that solve a murder?”

“My foot isn’t going to solve it, your boobs are.”

“Right.  Run that past me again?” 

I tried to sound really confident in my new plan, “You’re going to put on a nice tight top and go apply for a job at the police station.  When they hire you part-time, you’ll have access to the information that we need to type in the computer and have the Internet tell us who killed the woman, then we’re going to collect my $100,000 reward.”

“That’s your plan?”

“That’s it.”

She muttered, “Oh Lord, here we go!”

The look on her face said it all.  It was the same look she had on her face when she was 10 and I suggested that we climb the fence down at the corner swimming pool.  Things didn’t really work out that night, but I’m sure they’ll be better this time. 

Besides, I’m a little old to be grounded. 

Nothing to worry about here.  

Moving on.

TWO

Teagan swept into the room without a word.  No hello, how are you?  How’s life?  Hate it when you pull your hair back.  None of her normal comments.  Nothing. 

My own fault really.  When I’d gotten out of the car, I’d decided on ‘a lazy mans load’, as my mother calls it.  You know what I mean, when you try to carry more than you really should instead of making multiple trips back and forth. 

I was carrying my dry cleaning and my groceries, my purse, and my mail, which included a check to cover expenses for collecting the lottery monies I’d just won in some unknown part of the world, again.  Which means there’s really no need to check it out online, again, which can be a trauma for me.   

It’s a long story, how someone my age is so inept at all things computer.  Suffice it to say that I’m a late bloomer.  Not only on the computer, but that’s another long story. 

I was thinking about all of that, which is why I left my door unlocked for the 4.3 seconds it took for Teagan to show up and shove her way in.

Without precursor she said, “You were right.”

“Excuse me?”

“You were right.”

“What?”

“I said you were right Cara, what the hell is wrong with you?”

I smiled, “It’s just so rare for you to say anything like that to me, I wanted to hear it again.  What was I right about?”

She started putting away groceries as she talked.  “That you can find just about anything on the Internet.  I went online last night when I got home, and low and behold, there was information about the reward and a little bit of information about the murder you happen to be so obsessed with.  They think the amount offered will probably go up.  Whoever the murderer is, he isn’t too smart.  You should never murder a person that has friends with deep pockets.  Everyone knows that.  Either side, murderer or murdered, big pockets puts you on a whole other playing field.”

“So what did you find out?”

She helped herself to an apple, “What do I know, or what do I think?”

“First, what do you know?”

She grabbed a dishtowel off the handle on the oven door and started to polish her apple, “Ok.  I know that there is a reward of $100,000 for information that leads to the arrest and conviction of the person that committed the crime.”

“We knew that.”

“Yes, but when you stop and think about it, that means that the money isn’t going to be available to you for years.”  She bit down on a perfect granny smith.  The look on her face was somewhere between bliss and ecstasy.  My sister likes her food.

I ignored her obvious relish and said, “How do you figure that?”

“They specifically say conviction.”  Apple juice was going everywhere.  How come she always grabs the best one?  She slurped and went on, “That means that the trial has to take place, and the bad guy has to actually be found guilty.  That means if some legal technicality gets in the way, even if you find the right guy, you aren’t going to get the money.”

“That isn’t going to happen.”

“Excuse me?  How do you know that?  I can think of at least one high profile case where everyone thought the guy did it.  Seemed pretty cut and dried, excuse a very distasteful pun, and he wasn’t convicted.”

I stood there trying to decide between a banana and an orange.  Teagan chose an orange for me.  It, of course, would be perfect.  I started to peel it saying; “You know my theory on that one.”

She shook her head, “Yes, but you’re the only one on the planet that has that theory.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t make my theory any less valid.  Has it dawned on you that I could be right?  Maybe that same brilliance is just what is needed to solve this case.  Just because I’m the only one with a theory, Teagan Shannon, does not make that theory any less valid.  Besides, my theory makes perfect sense.”

“You think the son actually did it.”

“Yep.”

She rolled her eyes, “And that’s why the blood evidence was just a little off.”

“Yep.”

Her rendition was a little sing-songy.  She’s used it more than once to make me feel a little foolish.  It never works because I’m committed to my theory, so her lack of enthusiasm about it, does me no harm.  She couldn’t help herself, she couldn’t let it drop, she had to say it all one more time.

She was just trying for a reaction, “The father had no real concern about going to jail because he was actually innocent and if push came to shove it would come out that his crazy kid did it.  The DA couldn’t do much, since he’d already put all his eggs in one basket.  Worst case it all comes out in a last second court drama.  Great for TV ratings.  The kid goes into treatment for a few years, dad might even be a hero by the time the PR people are done spinning it, and everybody gets rich on the book and movie rights.  If the father is actually found innocent, the kid never suffers any consequences for his actions, God knows what happens to the kid’s brain at that point; the father gets even more smug, he’s pulled off the perfect crime, then he waits a few years, writes a book, and gets rich anyway.  It’s a win-win.”

“Yep.”

“Cara, only you could come up with something that twisted.”

“No, lots of people think of twisted stuff.”  I threw a napkin in her direction and continued with my very valid points, “I simply don’t act on twisted stuff.  The only difference between a good guy and a bad guy is that the bad guy allows himself to do what the good guy would do if morals weren’t an issue.”

She huffed, “So you have to be crazy to be a bad guy?  Not know the difference between right and wrong?”

“Oh hell no.  Unless you’re profoundly damaged, you know the difference between right and wrong.  Just because you know the difference doesn’t mean you choose to act on it.  It’s like everything else; it’s all on a bell curve.  Some people are at either extreme, most of us in the middle.”

“So there’s extreme good and extreme bad, and then the rest of us.”

“Pretty much.  I think God threw evil in the mix just to keep us on our toes.”