Mama Pursues Murderous Shadows (12 page)

“There’s the Avondale Inn and the Otis Motel.”

“Yes,” I said, thinking about Ruby and Betty Jo and how both those places had become a part of Mama’s life even before her party.

Once I’d gotten back home and talked with Abe on the phone, I felt like a great weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Abe promised he’d track down Leman Moody and question him and get Rick to keep a close eye on Mama. Now I could get back to planning the anniversary party. I set up a conference
call to my brothers. “Are either of you planning on bringing anybody to the party?”

Rodney spoke first. “I’m bringing my new lady and a buddy and his wife.”

“Will?” I asked.

“I’m only bringing one lady, somebody I want Mama and Daddy to meet.”

“She sounds special,” I said.

“She
is
special,” Will replied, his tone playfully sensuous.

“You planning to do something serious?” Rodney asked him, sounding a little worried.

“Yeah, big brother,” Will said. “I’m going all the way with this one.”

“Mama will be glad,” Rodney said, not responding to Will’s teasing. “I’m sure she’s thinking that all three of her children are devoted bachelors who would never give her a grandchild.”

“I’m going to get married,” I said stoutly.

My brothers both laughed. “Yeah, Simone,” said Will, “we know that in about twenty or thirty years Cliff will finally take the plunge—”

“Laugh if you want to,” I told them, “but we’ll see who strolls down the aisle first.”

“Don’t worry about beating me to the preacher,” Rodney said. “I ain’t about to do anything crazy!”

“Let’s get back to Mama and Daddy’s party,” I said sternly, seeing that we were once again headed in the wrong direction. “Now that we’ve got the party tied down, what are we going to give them as a gift?”

“A gift?” Will echoed. “I thought the
party
was our gift.”

“The party is to let everybody see what a great gift we’re going to give our parents,” Rodney said. “Isn’t that right, Simone?”

“Exactly,” I said.

“Okay,” Will said, like he always does when he sees that Rodney has taken my side, “what kind of gift do you think we should buy?”

“A trip,” Rodney said, before I could answer. “A nice long trip.”

“You’re talking about hundreds of dollars,” Will chided. He hates spending money.

“Thousands,” I said. “Two thousand at least.”

“Not bad,” Rodney said.

“The party is costing that much,” Will complained.

“Mama and Daddy will only have this anniversary once, and—” I started to say.

But Will cut in. “Simone, spare me the sermon.”

“Then you’ll agree to a trip?”

“I won’t have any money left for my own wedding,” Will argued.

“Elope,” Rodney said. “Save your cash for the divorce.”

“Rodney,” I said before my two brothers could start their squabbling, “I’ll check on a nice trip, let you know what I can get one for. Then I’ll call you back.”

“Let Rodney do the calling,” Will said abruptly
and rudely. “He’s the man who will never get married. He’s got the money—”

“If a trip is too much for you, little brother,” Rodney shot back, “I’ll spring yours for you as a loan, but there will be thirty percent interest to pay.”

“I can hold up my end,” Will snapped. “Simone, just let me know my share.”

“Now, boys,” I began.

And maybe I sounded like I was talking down to them, because Will came back with a sharp, “Simone, how big do boys grow in Atlanta?”

“Big enough to send their parents on a trip?” Rodney asked, not letting up on Will’s unwillingness to spend another two thousand dollars on a trip for my parents.

“I’ll call you both later,” I said hastily and hung up the phone. I had so much to do still, and time was running out. My parents’ party was in less than a month. This was no time for my brothers to engage in a sibling verbal boxing match. Even though their skirmishes usually turned out innocent fun and soon forgotten, I wasn’t in the mood!

B
y the end of the week, I was exhausted. I had no idea that making arrangements for a party could be such hard work. Oh, I’d had a few get-togethers at my apartment before. But all I did for those was to make a few phone calls, buy pizzas and beer, and let things go with the flow. I’d never done anything as extensive as pulling together this affair for my parents. And I wanted this shindig to be just right—Mama and Daddy deserved the best, and to me, the best meant everything had to be
perfect
.

I was tired but I was satisfied.

I’d ordered invitations, and paid extra money to have them do a rush job for me. The invites needed to be in the mail before the weekend.

I’d also reserved ten rooms at the Avondale Inn and the Otis Motel. I decided that would be a start until I got the RSVPs back. If more people were going
to need rooms, there was another hotel thirty miles away in Carrolton. I’d called the reservation clerk at the Carrolton Motel and told her of my plans. She had assured me that September was a slow month and the odds of her having rooms were very good. So I breathed easily, pretty certain that Mama’s out-of-town guests would be every bit as comfortable as Mama would want them to be.

I’d called each one of the people on Mama’s list who would be coming from out of town. I told them about the party, assured them that an invitation was forthcoming and that arrangements had been made for accommodations. I was pleasantly surprised when each one told me that they’d be glad to attend.

I’d found a place in Atlanta that would rent me dishes and silverware. They reluctantly allowed me to take them out of town to Otis for the party but not without me giving them a three-hundred-dollar deposit check. The check would be returned to me uncashed if there were no broken or lost pieces. Fortunately, Yasmine and Ernest volunteered to be responsible for picking up the dishes, taking them to Otis, and returning them back to the rental service. And Yasmine had already made a breathtaking centerpiece for my parents’ table.

I’d checked with several travel agents and had selected a trip to the Caribbean. For two thousand dollars, my parents could take a wonderful cruise to either Jamaica, Barbados, or Martinique.

Friday evening around six o’clock, I’d plopped down on my couch, popped open a diet Coke, and switched on the television. I was expecting Cliff any minute. All we’d planned for the evening was a night of hot wings and a few old movies. (I’d picked up
The Name of the Rose
, starring Sean Connery, a movie that I’d seen before but that I liked, and my favorite James Bond,
The Spy Who Loved Me
, with Roger Moore, and Wesley Snipes’s
Passenger 57.)

The rental car was already packed with chardonnay and Heineken. The next day, we’d deliver all the liquor to Otis and I was to pick up my Honda from the body repair shop where it had spent the past few weeks. My father had insisted that his mechanic work on my car; he swore that this guy was the best in the business. Daddy said that the man would make sure my car was running in tip-top condition again before he’d let me put it on the three-hour trip back to Atlanta.

When the phone rang, I took my time answering it.

“Simone,” Mama began without waiting for me to ask why she was calling. “You won’t believe what I just learned about Ruby Spikes!”

“What?”

“Do you remember Louise Barker?”

“No.”

“Louise is the legal secretary of Calvin Stokes.”

“The lawyer who handled Hannah Mixon’s will?” Hannah Mixon’s death last year was one of the cases Mama and I had helped solve.

“The same,” Mama continued, clearly excited with what she was about to tell me. “I ran into Louise at the florist an hour ago. She told me, confidentially of course, that Ruby Spikes had come to Calvin’s office to make out a will.”

Now Mama had my attention; I sat up straight on the sofa.

The words spilled out of Mama’s mouth so fast I thought she was going to lose her breath. “Louise told me Ruby asked Calvin a few questions and then told him she’d come back after she decided on a few things … but Ruby never returned!”

“So?”

“So?” Mama said, sounding more than a little annoyed with my reaction, “Ruby made that visit to Calvin’s office the day
before
she died!”

“That’s interesting,” I said. “Why would she ask questions about making a will and then go off and shoot herself?”

“That’s the exact same question I’ve asked myself. And that’s not the only thing that’s mysterious,” she continued. “Sparkle, Curtis and Mack’s cat, showed up at Portia Bolton’s house. The boys were glad to see their pet, but I can’t for the life of me figure who took the poor thing in the first place!”

“And who tried to kill you to get it from you,” I said.

“There are so many things going on in Otis.”

I agreed, then tried to turn the conversation to the party. Mama listened to my recital of the preparations I’d made, told me, “That’s fine, honey,” and
said good-bye. I knew that what she was really thinking about was the tidbits she’d just learned about the late Ruby Spikes and Betty Jo Mets’s cat.

Cliff and I pulled into Otis at noon on Saturday. We unloaded the beer and wine at my parents’ house, then went and picked up my Honda, which looked even better than new, and returned the rental car. We got back to Mama and Daddy’s house at one o’clock, just in time for lunch.

Though Mama calmly watched us savor her food, I knew her well enough to know that she was anxious to get on with tackling the events that had shaken the serenity of Otis.

When we’d finished our lunch, Mama took me aside and said, “The rapist has struck again. Dawn Crosby was attacked early this morning. This time the man succeeded. The poor girl is in shock; she’s been admitted to the hospital.” Mama’s voice shook; Dawn was the grown daughter of a friend of hers.

“Abe called and asked me if I’d go talk to her,” Mama continued. “I said you and I would be there shortly.”

“Let me just tell Cliff and then I’ll be right with you,” I said matter-of-factly, trying not to let on how scared and nervous I felt. I wondered what kind of shape Dawn was in, and I wondered what Mama and I could possibly say or do to help her.