Larceny and Old Lace (16 page)

“One musket does not a majority make.”

“Get the hell out of my shop, girlie!”

I took a step back. It was not a retreat, mind you. I simply don't like hostile breath in my face.

“I hear there's going to be a military antiques show for dealers only in Atlanta next month. You might want to pop over there and buy some inventory,” I suggested kindly.

“Get out, bitch!”

I got.

“Y
ou didn't!” Peggy's screaming voice does not flatter her.

“It is clearly against the bylaws, dear. Besides, the zoning board would never allow it.”

“He was offering me twice what I paid for my shop.
Twice
, Abigail. I could have retired from this business and gotten into something else.”

“What's this about retirement, Peggy? You were talking about stashing half the money and buying a shop somewhere else.”

“It's about options, Abigail, and you just took them away!”

“Sorry, dear, but he never would have gotten away with it. Besides, you don't really want to see this block turned into a little Berlin, do you?”

“But I wanted to go to Alaska,” Peggy wailed.

I tugged at my blouse, which was plastered to my chest with dew. The woman was on to something. September in Alaska had to be cooler than this.

“There are antique shops in Alaska?”

“Options, you ninny!”

“Anita has a cousin who works for a travel agency, dear. Maybe she can get a special discount for your cruise. Maybe you still can go.”

The blue eye shadow multiplied, which meant Peggy was looking at me through half closed eyes. Susan often does that when she's annoyed.

“You don't get it, do you? I didn't want to go to Alaska
on a cruise; I wanted the option of moving there.”

“You're kidding!”

“I've never been more serious in my life. Do you know what the ratio of men to women is up there?”

“But it's so cold!”

“A good man can take care of that, or have you forgotten?”

I shrugged off her nastiness. There was no point in telling her that a bowl of chili could do the same, since she would just as soon eat it.

“They don't have grits there, you know. Or collards. Or blacked-eyed peas and corn bread. And they've probably never even heard of boiled peanuts. Why, you probably can't find a decent glass of sweet tea in the whole state.”

“Oh, Abigail, you're so mean! It's still such a long way to lunch.”

“And don't forget Carolina peaches. On a hot day like today you won't be able to stop at a roadside stand and bite into a fresh peach and feel that sweet cool juice dribbling down your chin.”

“There won't be any hot days in Alaska! And now, thanks to you, there won't be any Alaskan days at all. Do you realize that you have just ruined my life?”

“It isn't me, dear. It's the zoning board.”

“Of course, you could fix that, you know.”

“Excuse me?”

To her credit she attempted a sweet smile. “
You
could buy my shop, Abigail. You could pay me what the Major was willing to pay.”

“Me?”

“Now that you've inherited your aunt's shop and her house, you're rich.”

“I am not rich! No longer desperate, maybe, but not rich. Besides, that's only assuming I'm going to inherit. For all I know, I may not even be in her will.”

“You and Toy are her closest living relatives, aren't you? And from what I understand, Toy is somewhat estranged from the family.”

“Right, but until I see the will, I'm not taking anything for granted.”

“Why not?”

I shrugged. “Ask Gretchen. According to her, a woman she saw on
Geraldo
had fifteen children that nobody, herself included, was aware of.”

“I saw that, too,” Peggy said thoughtfully, “but it was all baloney. There's no way a woman who looked like that could get pregnant fifteen times.”

“Just the same, it's always possible that there is someone out there to contest the will, or that Aunt Eulonia left all her money to charity.”

Peggy nodded. “Or three-legged cats.”

“Excuse me?”

“I saw it on a talk show. A California billionaire left his entire fortune to build an international home for three-legged cats. The will stood.”

“My aunt was afraid of cats.”

“Well, in that case, what
are
you going to do with your aunt's shop, Abigail?”

“I don't know—sell it I guess. I haven't had time to even think about it.”

“Well, maybe you should give it some thought. I mean, you want to make sure you sell it to a legitimate antique dealer, or the zoning board might come down on
you
.”

“Is this some kind of a threat, dear?”

The little brass bell above her door announced a customer, and she responded like a bass fisherman to a tug on the line. Being small is advantageous when it comes to overcoming inertia, and I was able to grab her skirt before she got away.

“Please, Peggy, I have a very important question to ask you, and it will take only three seconds.”

“One, two, three.”

“Have you seen a woman in a silk orange jumpsuit and black boots? I mean, today?”

“You mean Penny?”

“Penny?”

“A terrible bleach job and not enough makeup?”

“That could be her!”

“If that's the one, her name is Penny. I don't know her last name though.”

The customer was still casually scanning the place. It was far too early to pounce on her, and Peggy knew it. Premature pounces are guaranteed to scare away the fish. They have to see and taste the bait before you try and reel them in.

“Is Penny a customer?”

“She's been in once or twice lately, but she didn't buy anything. We have the same aerobics instructor.”

“You take aerobics?” I didn't mean it to sound like it did.

There was an explosion of blue. “Just because I have a little extra padding doesn't mean that I'm not in great shape. This is a well-toned body you're looking at—not all hard and angular like Jane Fonda's. Men find me comfortable.”

“I'm sure they do, dear. I wish I had a body like yours.” It was one of the hardest lies I've had to tell. My kids would have been proud of me.

Peggy gave me the once-over. “For starters, you'd have to eat more. Your boobs are too small and your hipbones jut out like fins on an old Buick. But you realize, of course, that if you put on the pounds, you're going to have to do some toning. Men like padding, not flab. Of course there's nothing we can do about your height.”

I swallowed my pride. “Where and when does your aerobics class meet?”

“My aerobics class is full, but there's millions of others. Just look them up in your phone book, or call the Y.”

“I'm sure not all aerobics classes are the same, dear. Maybe your instructor could recommend a good one. For beginners, I mean.”

“No, he can't.”

“Excuse me?”

“Now that I'm not going to Alaska, Joe is mine.”

Morning had broken, even if it had taken a little longer than the first morning.

“Not to worry, dear. I'm already spoken for.”

The blue disappeared entirely. It was a wonder her eyes didn't fall out.

“You?”

“Yes, I am finally in a relationship, as we say these days.”

“You?”

I bit my tongue and counted to three. “Yes, I was married, you know. At least once in my life a man has found me desirable.”

“And dumped you,” she said cruelly.

I forgave her for Charlie's sake. “But now that's all behind me. The new man in my life has scruples.”

“Don't tell me the man is Investigator What's-His-Name. Somebody Sideburns.”

“That's Washburn, dear. So, are you going to give me the dope on your aerobics class? If not for me, then do it for Greg. I'm afraid he likes comfortable women, too.”

“How do you know he does? Did he say so?”

The customer had begun to circle a Federal sofa like a shark around a bleeding swimmer. I had to act fast.

“Because he mentioned you, dear. He referred to you as ‘an extremely attractive woman.'”

“Well, Penny and I are in separate classes, but if you hurry you might catch her. If I remember correctly, her class meets Friday mornings about this time.”

I trust Peggy was able to reel in her customers as easily as that.

 

Jumping Joe's House of Aerobics is one of Charlotte's best-kept secrets. I mean that literally. It took me an hour to find the place which, as it turned out, was just over a mile away. Peggy neglected to tell me that Joe's studio is his garage and that his office is his living room. She also neglected to describe Joe.

“Jumping Joe,” he said, opening the door. “How can I be of service?”

I looked slowly up, past a few low clouds, to one of the homeliest faces God has put on this good earth. Only a blind mother could love a face like that. Just about everyone, however, could appreciate Joe's body—himself included. Perhaps that is why he was wearing the skimpiest denim shorts I had ever seen on a man. These were so frayed around the legs that in some places there was too much fray and not enough fabric, if you know what I mean. I looked down again. It was hard not to stare.

“Is this Jumping Joe's House of Aerobics?” I asked foolishly.

“Sure thing, babe.”

“It is?”

“Low on frills, high on thrills. That's my motto, babe. How can I be of service?”

I took a deep breath. Unless it's Sonny Bono, I'm not too fond of men calling me “babe.”

“I'd like to ask you a few questions about your studio. But you can go ahead and get dressed first.”

“I am dressed.”

I can remember when it was acceptable only for women to parade around in public half naked. If you ask me, the world has already gone to hell in a handbasket.

“Perhaps I could ask them here.”

“Suit yourself, babe, but it's thirty degrees cooler in there.”

I reluctantly jumped into the handbasket headed for hell. It had to be at least twenty degrees cooler in hell than on the sidewalk.

He pushed a stack of pizza boxes off the couch and sat down. “Let's have a seat at my desk, babe.”

Call me old-fashioned, but a beer-can-covered coffee table is not what comes to mind when I think of a desk. Still, it was a handy thing to have between us.

“I'd just as soon stand, thanks. I've been sitting all day.”

“No prob, babe.” His mocking did nothing to improve his face. “So, you're interested in taking one of my classes?”

“Yes, the one Penny is in.”

“Who?”

“You know, Penny. Blond hair, about this tall. Likes to sweat.”

“Ah yes, blond Penny. Sorry babe, but that class is full.”

I stared dejectedly at the floor. “That's too bad. I don't always have a car, and Penny said I could hitch rides with her.”

“Blond Penny said that?”

“Her very words.”

“I see. Jumping Joe's is a private establishment, and I don't
advertise much. How'd you hear about me in the first place, babe?”

“Penny told me, of course. She said your classes were just what I needed.”

He picked a beer-stained tablet off the table and flipped a few pages.

“Well, well, lookee here. I seem to have an opening after all. You want to start today?”

“What time today?”

“How about now?” He stood up and started around the table.

I edged to the door. “I'm afraid I left my aerobics clothes at home.”

“No problem, babe. Clothing is optional. Didn't Penny tell you that?”

“Penny is a woman of few words.”

“That's because there isn't any goddamn Penny.” In one step he blocked off my exit. “Now, why the hell are you really here?”

“This woman named Penny bought a large piece from my shop, and I lost her address before I could get it delivered. All I want is her address, honest.”

“Drop the phony act, babe. You're here for the same reason every other babe shows up. Aerobics, right?”

“Right!”

“A little special one-on-one aerobics, right?” His leer actually improved his looks.

“Wrong!”

“Come on, babe, my rates are really reasonable.”

“Look here, buster, I'm not in the least bit interested in whatever it is you're selling. Now get out of my way, or you'll be sorry.”

He didn't budge.

I was trapped but not entirely helpless. There are certain advantages to being short. What may be too high for some women to kick, was perfect punching height for me, especially on a man that tall. I had never done that before and hope I never have to do it again, but I was glad to do it this time. Jumping Joe, incidentally, does live up to his name.

 

An ambulance was just pulling away from in front of the Major's shop when I returned. Three squad cars had traffic blocked off on that side of the street, and a rope barrier prevented any pedestrians from getting within yards of the shop. Despite the heat a small crowd still lingered across the street, right outside my shop door. Had I still been open, it might have been a good day for business after all.

I spotted Peggy at the edge of the crowd and tapped her on the shoulder.

“What happened?”

She whirled, nearly knocking another woman over.

“As if you didn't know!”

“The Major have a heart attack?”

“Someone tried to strangle him,” she hissed. “With their bare hands. If it wasn't for that new fella, Bob, the Major would be dead.”

“What did Bob do?”

“He gave the Major CPR until the medics could arrive.”

“Who would try and kill the Major?”

“Don't you play games with me, Abigail. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't turn you in.”

“For what?”

“For trying to strangle him, that's what!”

I had to laugh. “Me?” I held up my hands. “Do you honestly think I could manage that?”

She scowled, obliterating her blue. “Well, you did go to see him this morning, didn't you?”

“Yes, but I saw you, too, and you look just fine to me.”