One Foot in the Grove (23 page)

Not telling Buck about the gun had been an honest mistake. When I came back to the cottage after falling asleep in Loretta's digs, I'd been completely caught off guard to find Buck waiting for me. With the booze and my emotions running high, I'd forgotten all about it.

I wasn't looking forward to coming clean, and I still didn't know whom I should speak to, Buck, Detective Gibbit, or someone else at the sheriff's office. I'd promised Pep that I'd make the call after the Chamber of Commerce meeting. I had just a couple of hours. Still, I was upset that Buck hadn't told me that he knew guests at Knox Plantation were mobsters from New York. He hadn't been up front with me. I didn't know whom to trust.

Walking across the lawn toward the tent, I was still replaying the scene with Sal and Guido in my cottage a couple of hours earlier.

“Eva, baby!” cried Daphne when she saw me. “Here y'all are!” She gave me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek as I stepped into the tent. Then, she whispered, “Pepper-Leigh
told me what happened this morning with those terrible mobsters. I am
so
worried for y'all! For all of us, really.”

“Me, too.”

“You must've been terrified!”

“I was. But I won't let them get to me next time.”

“Good gracious, Eva! I certainly hope there never is a ‘next time.' In fact, I've already spoken with the sheriff's people earlier today, and they assured me that we're gettin' extra coverage here in the evenings. Have y'all called to tell them what happened?”

“No, not yet. I promised Pep I'd do it after the meeting.” It occurred to me that Daphne didn't know about the gun under the bed, either.

“Well, I suppose that's okay. Still, I don't want y'all to wait too long. I'm findin' this all to be terribly frightenin'. I called Daddy. He's drivin' back tonight. He'll be here late tomorrow or early the next day. Says he's got some news about what's been goin' on with the olive trees. And he says he's been tryin' to reach you on your phone. I do wish y'all would check your messages.”

“I'm glad he'll be back soon,” I said.

“I invited our neighbor Mister Collier over; I hope he shows. I wanted to look extra nice for him, given all he's done for us and all. I'm not sure he's a Chamber member yet, but he should be.”

“Speaking of Ian Collier, do you know what he does, exactly?” I asked. “Precious said something about securities.”

“Honestly, I don't know,” Daphne said with a smile. “But he must do somethin' special to have made all that money. He's just dreamy, isn't he?”

“I don't know. I've never seen the man.”

“Never seen him? Why, Eva, of course you've seen him. He
rescued
you from certain death—the forest fire. You stayed in his home!”

“I don't remember any of it,” I said.

“Really?” Daphne looked incredulous. “Oh,
dahhwr-ln'
, you really were in bad shape, weren't you? That reminds me, have y'all seen the paper today?”

“You mean the one with my ugly mug all over it?”

“Ah, y'all have seen it. Well, I'm glad y'all are here today for the meetin'. We Knox women stick together. We need to be on the offensive.”

Cars began pulling up the drive and parking next to the big house. The Chamber of Commerce members were arriving.

“Folks are comin' already!” cried Daphne. She turned and gave me the once-over. “Oh! Eva, hon, is that what you're wearing?” Again, Daphne looked up and down my white jeans and black tee. “I thought perhaps y'all might put on a pretty little sundress.”

“No. This is it.”

Daphne looked disapprovingly at my outfit again and clucked her tongue. “It'll have to do.”

“Good.”

“Mornin', ladies!” called Daphne to the guests. “We're ready for y'all under the tent!”

*   *   *

Anyone happening on the scene that day would swear
there was a wedding going on. However, it was normal operating procedure for Daphne. She'd offered to host the Chamber of Commerce meeting in hopes that a spectacular event would help put our fledgling family businesses on the map. And she was going all out.

Set up in the small field behind my cottage, right next to the pond, the red and white striped tent was filled with round tables set with china, summery flower arrangements, and elaborately displayed sweet and savory finger foods and beverages. Along with the talented hand of Precious Darling, Daphne had concocted a delicious selection of olive oil treats, including fig and olive crostini, artichoke and olive paste, savory sweet potato skins and bacon, olive oil cookies, and blueberry and peach olive oil mini muffins. Plus, there was a lineup of bottles with speed pourers filled with different olive oils that could be poured into little paper cups for dipping a variety of artisanal breads. Moreover, for
each attendee, there was a small gift bag containing a bar of olive oil soap, a container of olive oil hand cream, and a bottle of Knox Liquid Gold Extra Virgin Olive Oil.

Looking at Daphne's lavish gift bags, I had a change of heart. If Daphne wanted me to wear something “pretty,” it was the least I could do for her. This event was important to my sister. To our family. So, as more attendees parked their vehicles and headed toward the tent, I hustled off to my cottage where I swapped out my jeans and tee for a floral cotton sundress with spaghetti straps. Daphne'd left it on the bed for me. I even tried to compensate for my rode hard and put away wet appearance by putting on a little mascara and lip color. Unlike many of the women in Abundance, makeup was not something I wore every day; I only bothered with it for special occasions. Or when I needed to hide my face.

Finally, I switched my black ankle wrap for a nude-colored one. Then, I put on a big straw hat and slipped on thong sandals and my sunglasses before padding back over toward the big top.

As I crossed the yard, I saw a couple talking under an ancient live oak tree on the far side of the lawn. Something about the way they were standing—just a little too close—and the way the woman touched the man's arm made me stop in my tracks. Even from far away, their intimacy and attraction to each other was unmistakable. I recognized the man. It was my brother in-law, Billy. Only the woman with him wearing the long, gauzy halter dress was not my sister, Pep. Instead, Pooty Chitty, owner of the Lacy Goddess Lingerie Boutique, shook her wild, dirty-blonde hair as she laughed.

Quickly, Pooty dropped her hand from Billy's arm and the couple leaned back, away from each other, as they undoubtedly saw me heading across the lawn. Still, it was too late. I'd seen them huddled together. I focused on the tent ahead and pretended not to notice them as my mind raced. Pep had told me that after she'd pedaled home from my place on the night of the murder, Billy had not been there. He'd
gone out somewhere—she'd assumed he was gambling. Had he been with Pooty instead? And hadn't Pep told me that Billy had given her some lingerie not too long ago? And it was the wrong size? Had he made an honest mistake? Or had Pep stumbled upon something belonging to her husband's . . . mistress? Whichever the case, Billy had clearly gone to the Lacy Goddess more than once. Maybe parking his motorcycle behind Pooty's shop had been more purposeful than I'd first imagined.

I didn't know whether to say something to Pep or not when I saw her next. My own instincts about men were so screwed-up. I was hurting and oversensitive. Maybe I had it all wrong. Certainly, it wouldn't be the first time. Not by a long shot. I didn't want to needlessly hurt Pep, or make her already difficult marriage impossible. Besides, she'd been so excited when she'd taken the olive oil back to her place for a little fun with Billy; she seemed to really want to make things work with him. I'd have to think about it. Regardless, Billy Sweet was on my radar.

I reached the tent and stepped inside. It was shady, but still not much cooler than outside in the sweltering heat.
Time to focus on Daphne's event
. Everything else could wait just an hour or so. Reconciling my anxieties about facing folks in Abundance, especially on the day when I looked like hell and my face was plastered all over the local paper—and not in a good way—I stood right at the entry to the tent and handed each person a program as he or she stepped into the big top. We exchanged pleasantries—I smiled and complimented each guest after welcoming him or her to the meeting. Then I dropped his or her business card into a beribboned basket sitting on the table next to me.

Although most of the attendees had come to catch a glimpse of me, or at least to gossip about me with everyone else, as they came in, most didn't even realize that it was me under the hat, behind the sunglasses, welcoming them. It wasn't until they'd already grabbed their programs and moved on to find their seats for the presentation that it dawned on them. Waiting for the presentation to begin, folks
whispered in their seats and cranked their heads around, trying to get a better look at the notorious runaway bride. I smiled and waved, over and over again, as each person turned to stare at me.

Soon, from the microphone on a little wooden stage, Daphne was calling out, “Testing . . . testing . . . one . . . two . . . three . . . testing.” She smiled grandly and greeted the crowd before saying a few words about Knox Plantation, the new opportunities for overnight guest stays, and all the health benefits of fresh olive oil. Then, she turned the stage over to insurance agent and Chamber of Commerce president Heath Hicks, who spoke for about ten minutes before introducing Abundance native, motivational speaker, and acclaimed national author Dalia Whipplesnap, who was the event keynote speaker. She was on hand to hawk her new book,
How Good Listening Leads to Success
. For nearly an hour, people in the audience gossiped, laughed, and tittered to one another as Dalia Whipplesnap droned on about listening skills.

I flipped absently through the business cards in the basket. Wendel Wilcox, Abundance Package Store. Cletis Carter, Owner, Carter's Country Corner Store, est. 1866. Beau Riddleberger, Esq., Law Offices of Riddleberger and Blankenblatt. I wondered if he practiced criminal law.

I pulled out more cards: Earl Downing, Marketing Director, Climax Chemical Company. Woody Smart, Owner, Woody's Gun Shop. Seth Fretwell, Chimney Sweep. Soletta Overstreet, Owner, Gifts Galore. Merle and Roxxy Tritt, Abundance Hardware. And my favorite: Angel Pride, Creator of the Heavenly Bun, “The hair styling aid that touches souls of women everywhere, bringing bigger hair closer to God.”

I flipped through a few more cards in the basket. I scanned the tent to see if any of the deputies were there. Or worse, Detective Gibbit. Or, still worse than that, Buck. I didn't see any of them. Better yet, I didn't see Debi Dicer or Tammy Fae Tanner. Maybe, finally, I'd have a day that went off without a hitch.

After standing for nearly an hour and thirty minutes, I began feeling weak, hot, and fidgety. My ribs were hurting and my ankle throbbed. And no breakfast and too much alcohol the night before was taking a toll. No more Georgia Peach Whiskey for me, I thought.

I figured a breeze would bring some relief, so I slipped outside. Slowly, careful to not bend my ankle much, I picked my way across the grassy lawn toward the pond where I watched the sun's rays dancing on the water rippling in the breeze. I was happy for the shade of my big, floppy hat. Standing on the water's edge, looking toward the far side of the pond near the cabin, I could see a little red dinghy, tied to a rickety old dock, bobbing in the water. I remembered how Pep and I had spent entire summers swimming and fishing off that dock. I'd caught my first catfish there. And, of course, I'd spent plenty of time in the cabin, especially in high school, with Buck . . .

As I reminisced, and my mind drifted to happy times growing up on the plantation, I heard polite applause behind me as the crowd in the tent broke up for refreshments. After another hour or so of socializing and “networking,” the meeting would be over. After that, I was going to have to come clean about the gun under the mattress, and contact either Buck or Detective Gibbit. Kind of like trying to decide between the better of two evils.

“Eva, Knox,
here
you are!” a familiar voice cried out.

I spun around to see grim-faced Debi Dicer in a bright green and pink Lilly Pulitzer shift marching toward me from the tent on the knoll. Her fists were clenched. And she looked really, really angry. Sour-faced Tammy Fae Tanner was in stride, right behind Debi.

“You bitch!” hissed Debi to me. “Eva Knox, just who do you think you are!”

I saw people in the tent turn toward us. I doubted they could hear Debi, but the way she was marching across the lawn had to attract attention. Her lack of decorum was almost unprecedented in Abundance.

“Debi. How nice to see you,” I said. “You, too, Tammy
Fae.” I waved to Tammy Fae, who stayed a bit behind Debi. “Sorry we didn't get a chance to talk earlier today in town.”