Murder for a Rainy Day (Pecan Bayou Book 6) (4 page)

"Danny?"

"Surprise!"

The front room was, as I had suspected, filled with the women of Pecan Bayou.

I tried to look shocked and happy, and hoped I was pulling it off. Aunt Maggie gave me a big hug and then Danny jumped in, folding his arms around both of us a little too tightly. Danny shouted into my ear. "I was a part of the surprise, Betsy. ""You sure were. You got me."

"I did. I did."

"Come on over here, Betsy. A lot of folks want to talk to you today."

I obediently fell in step behind my aunt. Libby Loper and Ruby Green scooted over to give me a spot between them on the couch. I felt assistance at my elbows once more as they helped me to lower down onto the soft cushions. It was as much work as a plane landing on an aircraft carrier.

"Well you finally made it. We were afraid you were heading straight to the hospital," Ruby said. Ruby, always dressed to match an occasion, had on a baby pink top with baby blue capri pants. Her earrings were little pacifiers. Her hair was done up in a lovely shade of buttercup blond. She had alternating pink and blue fingernails. This was an outfit we would need a picture of for the baby book.

My good friend Elaina, and one of the few women at the shower close to my age, sat over in the corner looking a little uncomfortable. She had her knees pushed together with her hands neatly folded in her lap. Dressed in her patrolman's uniform, she raised one hand in a jerky wave.

"I didn't know we were going to need police coverage for a baby shower,"  I said.

"Yeah." She nodded. "It could get pretty wild between the 'Baby Name Scramble' and the 'Baby Gift Bingo'. Your dad gave me a couple of hours off, so I could attend the festivities."

Though my dad probably thought of it as a special favor, my friend didn't appear to be all that happy with the deal. Elaina would have preferred to be pulling over a drunk driver than going through this. Of all of the women in the room, she might be able to handle a .38, but really hadn't participated in many of the rituals that women go through. Elaina was single, and her relationship with our local DA was on-again- off-again, so this little hen party was not something she felt a part of.

Mayor Obermyer's wife patted Elaina on her knee. "Don't you worry dear. Your turn is coming. "

"This is just so much fun," she said, her smile a little on the vacant side.

"So how is the romance going with you and our district attorney? " Libby Loper pulled on her turquoise necklace that adorned her beige jean jacket and matching skirt. She looked like she might have just stepped out of one of her father’s old cowboy movies.

"Oh everything is fine," Elaina said, her lips thinning.

"Might we be planning a wedding shower for you sometime in the future?" Aunt Maggie said, a little gleam in her eyes.

"Leave her alone ladies," I said. "You’re like a bunch of vampires at a blood bank. Give her time. "

"Thanks, Betsy. Although, I do have to admit all this baby stuff does look like fun," Elaina repeated, more convincingly this time.

"Which part? The massive weight gain, the backache, or that you don't sleep for the last three months?"

Aunt Maggie came over and patted my hand. "Now, now, Betsy. This will all be over before you know it, and you won't even remember how miserable you are now. I promise."

Birdie, the owner of Birdie’s Diner, brought over a gift bag with a yellow giraffe on it. "Go ahead and open mine, Betsy. I can’t stay. My new boyfriend needs me down at the diner. We’re putting a chicken he made entirely out of soup cans on the roof. He has a knack for crafts, you know." I had been so absorbed in my own life, I wasn’t aware of Birdie’s new boyfriend. 

"Hmmm. Next time I’m in the diner I want to hear all about this new man in your life."

"He’s wonderful," she said. "I never thought I’d find love again this late in the game."

"How did you meet him?"

"I’m a little embarrassed about this, but everyone’s doing it."

I waited for her to say she met him online.

"I went down to the bingo game at the Our Lady of Guadalupe in Andersonville. I heard it was a great place to meet people. I’m not even Catholic, but they let me play anyway. He sat right next me and the next I knew we were dating."

"So romantic," I said.

"You don’t know the half of it." She smiled. 

I reached into the gift bag and pulled out a set of yellow booties and t-shirt that emblazoned with
Birdie’s Diner
—
Fine Dining for the Family
.

"Very nice. Thank you," I said. Birdie gave me a quick hug.

"I’m off. Time to get that chicken on the roof." 

"You have to open my gift next," Ruby said. She reached over and grabbed an ornately decorated bag and put it in my hands. I was ecstatic that we were going straight to the pink and blue boxes and bags sitting on the fireplace and skipping all the silly baby shower games.

"Now Ruby, we can't start with gifts first. We have to play 'Baby Name Scramble'!" my aunt said, rubbing her hands together in excitement.

I longed for my nap.

An hour later, I finally got to opening the gifts. One by one the ladies of Pecan Bayou gave me everything I would ever need. It had been so many years since I had a little one in the house, I was starting all over. Their gifts were wonderful, especially seeing as I hadn't felt like shopping for the baby in the last couple of weeks.

"Danny, where is your gift? Did you put it in the pile with the others?" Maggie asked.

"No. I did not," Danny said between handfuls of Fritos.

"Well go and get it. People are starting to leave."

"No. The baby hasn't come in on angel wings yet. I want to give my gift to the baby."

"Yes, but this is a time when we get Betsy presents to get ready for the baby."

He spoke to my aunt slowly as if he felt she was not comprehending. "That baby isn't here, yet. I will give my gift to the baby when he's here. That way he can say thank you."

"I hope you can wait, Betsy," Maggie said.

I stretched and yawned and then turned toward my cousin. "Makes perfect sense to me."

As I finally made my way home from the shower, I drove by the town square where bronze Charlie Loper now stood proudly with his giant fiberglass horse. A couple of boys were playing near the horse and one ventured on top of it. Great, now they could classify the monstrosity as a playground as well. Someone in a white pickup parked across the street was taking pictures. I just hoped Pecan Bayou wasn’t in the running for a world’s ugliest town competition.

I continued down the street, driving past the new Super Stay Motel. As I drove by, Baxter Digby stepped out of his silver Escalade which sported a Digby campaign bumper sticker on the back. What would he be doing at the motel in the middle of the day? As if he knew I was watching him, he looked around from side to side. I couldn't exactly duck down in my car, so I jerked my gaze forward. When I pulled up to the stop sign on the corner, I looked back in my rearview mirror. Digby took out a card and placed it in the door slot of one of the motel rooms. Maybe he and his wife were meeting in the middle of the day for a rendezvous? An afternoon in the Super Stay didn’t really ring romance in my head. Cheap, maybe, but romance, never.  Maybe it wasn't his wife on the other side of that door.

I suddenly wished I hadn’t witnessed Digby’s possible indiscretion. This was just the kind of news Rocky would love to get his hands on. A city council member having an affair? It was ten times better than the bake sale going on down at the VFW. I didn't feel I needed to add "scooping to the tabloids" to my work resume, so I just kept driving. There was probably a reasonable explanation for this. Maybe it was a candidate planning meeting. I had trouble believing that. Whatever it was, I decided to keep it to myself for now.

A few minutes later, as I carried in my shower gifts, my cell phone began ringing in my purse, which was still in the car. I hurried to my car to reach over the driver’s seat and answer it before it went to voice mail.

"Mom! Hey Mom. Have you heard about the storm?" Zach was calling from camp again. I still hadn’t called the counselor to ask about the poker game and to send more funds for my high rollers. Then again he might be calling to tell me the camp was sending everybody home.

"Yes. It's all over the news here, too. Your dad and I have discussed a plan for you guys."

"Good. Who’s going to pick us up?"

"Actually you're probably out of the storm's path that far upstate and safer than if you would be in Pecan Bayou."

"Is that what Leo saw on the screens at the weather bureau?"

"Yes. I've been watching it too, but I can't drive there and get you because there's a chance I could go into labor on the way."

"Cool."

"You won't think it's very cool if you have to deliver your little brother or sister."

"Mom. I'm a scout. We get all kinds of training."

I would be really surprised if there was an obstetrics badge, I thought. "I'm glad to know that, but I’ll just use a doctor instead. We also think it would be a better idea if you were to stay there."

"Mom," he begged, his voice catching in between soprano and alto.

"It will be okay, Zach. Have your counselors talked to you about a storm plan?"

"Yeah. We have a plan. We've been doing weather drills. All that stuff."

"Now you listen to them, because though your dad says the weather isn't coming your way, we still want to make sure you know what to do in an emergency."

"I'm listening."

"Great. Maybe we should be calling each other at least once a day."

"Sure, and if you have a baby, pleeeeease call me."

As if I would forget. "You know I will. Love you. Oh, and no more gambling."

"Love you, too. No more gambling, and I can't wait to see my new brother or sister. When will you tell me what it is?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

By the time I crawled into bed that evening, I was beyond tired. I expected Leo at eleven o’clock, so I took the extra time to relax. Butch lay snoring on the carpet next to the bed. Who knew a dog could be so loud?

I opened my copy of
What to Expect When You’re Expecting
. This had been a gift to me when I was expecting Zach and was the ultimate pregnant book informing you month by month what the heck that kid was doing to your body. This late in the book I wondered if they started omitting the scary stuff. There would be nothing about the panicky drive to the hospital and the eventual hours of requesting more painkillers. Nobody would buy the book if they knew the real truth. My eyelids were starting to become heavy, and I set my reading on my belly. Maybe the baby would enjoy it.

"They’re all waiting." I heard a voice that came in on the wind. Then, I noticed the corners of the room. They were softer and less in focus.

"Who’s waiting?" I asked.

"They are, of course." Standing next to the box that contained the pieces of our changing table I recognized Martha Hoffman, the town librarian. As usual, she looked impatient with me. She was also dead.

"Martha? I mean Ms. Hoffman?"

"Is there something wrong with your eyes?"

"No. It’s just that, well, you’re dead. How can you be talking to me if you’re dead?"

"So many questions. I always hated questions. What’s the capital of Brazil? Where do I find Shakespeare’s plays? What is electricity? Questions! Questions! Questions! Who freakin’ cares? Good grief, can’t people look things up?"

I don’t recall having had this long of a conversation when Martha was living. I also never would’ve predicted that if a ghost were going to visit me it would be the angry librarian. She wore her functional cardigan sweater over wool tweed skirt, accompanied by her sensible shoes with thick heels. She adjusted her red framed glasses on her nose.

"Bootsy Lindeman, did you get my message?"

As she had in life, she screwed up my name. In her final days she created all kinds of names for me, none of them correct. She knew my name all along, and we both knew it. By making me so unimportant that remembering my name was a chore, she kept me in my place, like a book on the shelf.

"Oh. Yes. They’re all waiting. The thing is you never told me who was waiting."

"You’re a policeman’s daughter. I think you can figure this out. For some reason these idiots think it’s important that they talk to you."

"Who? Who needs to talk to me? Is this some crazy pregnant dream?"

"No. But it’s important for you to listen, Bootsy. Listen and follow what they say, and don’t let the dreams swirl around in that empty head too much. You’re dizzy enough. When it’s time to take action, you need to blow on out of there. Step out of the frame."