One Foot in the Grove (31 page)

“Morning, everyone!” I slipped out of Daphne's Wellies and padded barefoot across the kitchen floor over to the coffeemaker. “Is there coffee?”

“Hey, girl!” said Pep. She was sitting on the red kitchen counter, snacking on some packaged pork rinds, wearing a lacy black choker, strappy black dress with a fitted top and tulle skirt, and black high-top basketball sneakers.

“Pep, I have something for you.” I reached into my pocket, pulled out the skull ring, and put it in her hand.

“Hey, thanks, hon! But how did . . . Where did you get this?” Pep looked at me intently.

“I found it on the ground.”

I hadn't decided how I was going to handle what I thought knew about Billy. I wasn't sure if I could trust my instincts. Especially when it came to men. Although I wanted to tell Pep about Pooty and where I'd found Pep's gold ring, I needed time to sort though the facts. Besides, I knew Pep wanted her marriage to work and I didn't want to be the reason it didn't. I decided to hold off saying anything, for the time being anyway.

“Eva, dear, it's twenty minutes past noon,” said Daphne over by the sink. “The coffee's been gone for hours. Let me make a fresh pot.” Her hair was loose around her shoulders. She wore a white sleeveless linen blouse over creamy silk capri pants and a pair of Tory Burch sandals. Gold earrings, each shaped like a little Buddha, complemented her gold bangle bracelet.

“Thanks,” I said. I pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and dropped into it. I was back in my cutoffs and a plain white tee.

“And, my, my! Don't you look better today,” continued Daphne. “Even all scratched and bruised as you are. Eva, you've got a sparkle in your eyes that I haven't seen in years. A little family, some down-home excitement, and a few hours of sleep has done you a
world
of good!” Daphne dumped a pile of coffee beans in the grinder and flipped the switch.

“I'd say it's on account of a little Buck . . .” teased Pep.

Daphne scowled at Pep.

I ignored Pep's comment. “I feel like I've been hit by a car . . . Oh, wait, I was!”

“Do you have much bruising, Eva?” asked Daphne as she dumped the coffee grinds into the coffeemaker.

“That's a dumb question, Daph,” said Pep. “Look at her legs. And I can see some up near her collarbone. Does it hurt much?” asked Pep.

“Everywhere the seat belt was. And my arms, shoulders, and back are sore. But the EMTs said to expect it. And none of it is as bad as my ribs. I'm just glad to be alive, that's all.”

“Amen to that!” called Precious as she came in from the back door. “Whew-wee! It's hotter out there today than butter on a biscuit! Miss Daphne, I got the roast you asked for, and some country-style ribs. The grocery store was havin' a special.”

Wearing a hot pink blouse over fitted white and pink polka dot capris, Precious marched in lime green Louboutins to the counter, where she began unloading packages of food.

“What? Not using Boone Beasley anymore?” I chuckled.

“What y'all shared with us last night about that man is positively stomach turning. I can't think about it anymore,” said Daphne. “And I tossed the sausages he brought over. To think . . . we'd been eatin' wild boar!”

“That just plum curdles my guts,” said Precious. “My grandpappy made us eat wild boar once. It smelled and tasted like piss.” Precious shuddered.

I laughed. I'd have laughed harder, but my insides were killing me. If it weren't for ibuprofen, I'd never have made it out of bed.

“Hey, if Boone's wild boar tasted good enough to eat, then I don't see the problem,” said Pep. “When he gets out of rehab, he should market his secret spice. He'll be rich in no time.”

“You see, Pepper-Leigh? It's just like I told you. Working at that bar has not only tainted your sensibilities, it's adulterated your senses as well.” Daphne poured water into the coffeemaker and snapped on the switch.

Pep rolled her eyes. “Hey, Precious, are there any more blueberry scones? I'm starving.”

“If you wait thirty minutes, hon, I'm whippin' up a special picnic lunch for the New York ladies after they get back from the
po-leece
station. I can make you a sandwich and some nibblies.”

“Sounds good!”

“Oh, that reminds me,” said Daphne. “I need to pull some sparkling wine from the basement to send with the ladies. It's the least we can do, given their husbands are in the slammer, and all.”

“Daph, did you say, ‘slammer'? Really? And you're giving me a hard time about
my
lingo?”

“Miss Daphne's been readin' some of my mystery books, ain't ya, hon?” Precious smiled.

Daphne opened her mouth but decided instead not to say anything.

“Speaking of mysteries, anyone heard any more news about last night?” I asked.

“I was goin' to ask you that,” said Pep.

“I slept all morning and haven't heard a thing. Although, I haven't seen my phone in days, so I wouldn't even know if anyone is trying to reach me with any news.”

“Tilly Beekerspat said the two mob guys, Sal and Guido, are gettin' booked this morning.”

“Did they figure out what happened?” Pep asked.

“The detective says they had Lenny dig his own grave, 'cept he got away and almost to the olive grove before they caught up with him and took him out. Then, Miss Eva and the lightning showed up before they could finish the job and dump the body in the grave.”

“That sort of makes sense,” I said. “Buck told me they call Sal Malagutti “the Gravedigger.”

“Oh! We need a plaque to hang over the bed upstairs that reads
GRAVEDIGGER SLEPT HERE
,” teased Pep.

Daphne wrinkled her nose. “Pepper-Leigh, must you be so uncouth?”

“Yes.”

Daphne shook her head before she looked at me and said, “Eva, dear, don't you think you should carry a phone with you? After all, it does seem that if you'd had your phone with you last night, you could have called for help. More than once. You could've been killed by those thugs!”

“Yeah, you owe Dolly big-time. And Buck, too,” said Pep.

“I don't think you owe Buck Tanner anything. However, I'd say that if you owe anyone, you owe our wonderful neighbor, Ian Collier,” said Daphne. “He's
such
a gentleman. If he hadn't called Buck Tanner because he was worried about leavin' you out in the woods last night, who knows what may have happened when those two killers came running up to you.”

“What'd the men do? Hop outta their car comin' down the drive and run into the woods when they saw the
po-leece
waitin' for 'em here?” asked Precious.

“That's what I heard,” said Pep. “Then, when they ran into Eva in the woods, the Malagutti thug thought he could grab her and use her as a hostage to negotiate his way out of Abundance.”

“Eva, you really need to carry your phone.” Daphne sounded stern.

“The only people calling me are reporters looking for runaway bride dirt. I hate my phone.”

Daphne sighed. “You're gettin' to be kind of a hammerhead, Eva. Like Daddy. He should be back later today, by the way. He's been tryin' to call y'all on your phone. And he was glad to hear you're alright. Also, he was interested to know about how the salt got into the olive grove. They'd figured out at the lab that there was salt in the soil; still, they couldn't figure out how it got there.”

“So,” I asked, “now that their husbands are in the can, how long are the ladies from New York staying on?”

“Seems like they'll be here for at least another few days,” said Daphne. “Until formal charges are brought against their husbands for Leonard's murder and attempted kidnapping and for assaulting you. My friend Sadie Truewater—she's in my book club and volunteers with adult protective services down at the station, maybe you met her last night? Anyway, she told me this morning that folks at the station were all talkin' about how Mister Malagutti's fingerprints were on the gun that killed Leonard. And it was the Glock 19, the one I found in the boots. It seems likely that it's the same gun that you ladies found under the bed. Anyhoo, Detective Gibbit has a whole laundry list of stuff he wants to charge them with. And he's goin' after that nasty Loretta, too. I'm disappointed in myself for lettin' the whole lot of 'em stay here.”

“Yeah, hopefully ol' Eli can make everything stick,” said Pep.

“If anyone can make charges stick, that ol' weasel can,” said Precious. “That fellow's slicker than deer guts on a skinnin' knife.”

“Well, if y'all ask me, Eva, you should press charges against Debi Dicer as well. What she did to you here at the Chamber of Commerce meetin' was a travesty. What kind of a grown woman behaves that way?”

“A jealous one,” smirked Pep. She winked at me.

“I'm sorry that I ruined your party, Daphne.”

“Well, at least, the whole scene generated some publicity for us.”

“You've all generated enough badass news about yourselves to last weeks!” chortled Precious.

“Debi's so stuck-up, she'd drown in a rainstorm,” said Pep. “Hooking up with Buck has only made her worse. The woman thinks she's plumb invincible.”

“Ain't nothing more annoyin' than a biggity woman with her feathers ruffled,” said Precious.

“She's got nothing to be ruffled about,” I said. “This silly jealousy thing is all on her.”

“I certainly hope so, Eva.” huffed Daphne. “Y'all washed your hands of Buck Tanner years ago! And quite wisely, I might add.”

“Still, I don't know what Buck sees in her,” I said.

“I hear Debi's as limber as a wet dishrag,” Pep said brightly.

“Pepper-Leigh!”

“Well, it's true. Y'all wouldn't believe the things folks say at the bar. I hear all kinds of stuff.”

“If you ask me, the two of 'em are well deservin' of each other,” said Daphne. “The perfect couple. Good riddance to the both of 'em from the single, upstandin' folks of Abundance.”

“Speaking of which, I heard Debi can do it standin' up as well,” smirked Pep.

“Pepper-Leigh!” scolded Daphne. Precious tittered as she laid out her sandwich ingredients.

“So, Pep,” I asked, “what do they say about Ian Collier down at the Roadhouse?”

“Ian? Oh, let's see . . . Actually, folks don't know what to make of him, mostly. Not many folks have ever seen him in person, and most just wonder where he got all his money.”

“That gorgeous man can do just about anything he wants,” sighed Daphne. “I bet he'd make a wonderful husband and father.”

“And by coincidence, you just happen to have an instant family for him. Right? Ha!” laughed Pep.

“Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but I ain't seein' that happening,” said Precious.

“Precious, what's the big secret about Ian Collier? Are you gonna fill us in?” asked Pep.

“Pep, I tried that . . . It's no use,” I said.

“Well, y'all are right about one thing. Mister Collier's got enough money to burn a wet mule,” said Precious. “But it's like Sunshine says. Mister Collier pays me a lot of money to do my job, run his household, and keep my mouth shut. And that's what I intend to keep doin'. Still, to save you the trouble, Miss Daphne, and I mean no offense, he ain't gonna be addin' on any family.”

“I see. A confirmed bachelor?”

“Daph, did he show up to the Chamber of Commerce meeting yesterday?”

Precious laughed. “
My
Mister Collier?”

“No, I'm afraid not, Eva. We'll just have to keep tryin' to get the man out and about. With all that money, it'd be nice to see him become active in our little community.”

“Now, Precious,” said Pep, “don't y'all go thinkin' that my sister has dropped her designs on your boss just because y'all told her to do so.”

Precious shook her head and smiled. Daphne threw a disparaging look toward Pep.

“With no help from Precious, it looks like we'll just have to embrace the mystery of Ian Collier,” I said. “At least for now.” I was eager to find out more about him for myself. But, of course, there was no need to let anyone in on my plans.

“Well, anyhoo, I'm delighted Mister Collier has allowed for you to be here, Precious. Do you know how much longer you'll be able to help us out?”

“Long as I like, I reckon.”

“Really!” said Daphne, surprised.

“Greatwoods is a big place and all, but to tell you the
truth, it gets lonely over there. And day to day, I ain't got much to do since I'm in charge. We got other folks to do nitty-gritty stuff.”

“Oh. I see,” said Daphne.

“This place is gooder'n grits over here. So, I'm plannin' on stickin' around as long as you'll have me.” Precious chuckled. “If things get any better over here, I may have to hire someone to help me enjoy it all!”