Paint the Town Dead (14 page)

Shortly after Rose left, Doralee came by, and we all—even Dab and Fred—gathered around her.

“How are you?” I asked. “Any more word from Detective Shoar?”

“Not a peep, but we're well, thanks. Our room at the Pines Motor Court is small, but cute as it can be. Fifties decor with a flat screen TV, Wi-Fi, and a private sitting area out back with a retro table and chairs. And the owners, Winne and Woody Needham, are the sweetest people.”

“I'm glad it's working out, but you and Zach come back to the farmhouse if you need to. You're always welcome.”

“I know, Sherry Mae, and thanks. I came to town to grab lunch for Zach. I left him checking in with his office, and setting up appointments for later in the week.”

“Do you have time for us to eat together?” Aster asked. “It won't take more than half an hour longer.”

Doralee's eyes twinkled. “I imagine Zach expects me to do just that. Let's go.”

While the ladies took lunch orders from Dab and Fred, who were not coming to lunch, I seized the chance to pull Doralee aside and steered her out the front door.

“What is it, Nixy?” she eagerly asked. “Do you know who killed Kim?”

I snorted. “Not by a long shot. But I had a conversation with Ernie last night. He barged into the store as I was closing.”

Her eyes rounded. “Why did he come to you? Because we found Kim together?”

“Because I told Detective Shoar about the opal Kim wanted. Shoar suspects him of the murder, too, but he didn't throw you under the bus.”

She blinked. “What do you mean?”

“He didn't tell Shoar that he saw you walking near the square.”

She closed her eyes and absorbed that for moment. “I didn't realize Ernie didn't mention my walk, but someone else did see me. I'm still a suspect in your detective's book.”

“So why
did
you leave the party, Doralee?”

Her gaze slid away from me, then back. “After Zach left, I thought about how much grief Kim was giving Ernie about the damned stone. I started walking back toward the inn thinking I'd find him and offer to sell him the opal. I was debating about how much to charge him. On the retail market, it's worth a lot.”

“And?” I prompted when she paused.

“And I was a block away when I turned around. I decided I'd wait to talk with him. I didn't want to make an emotional decision and then regret it.”

“So you didn't mention your thoughts to him during the ride back to Sherry's?”

Her gaze turned flinty. “I almost did, but no.”

“You weren't sealing a deal when I caught you kissing him?”

“A peck on the cheek, Nixy,” she said with a chill in her
voice. “That's all it was. I didn't kill Kim, and for the record, I don't believe Ernie did it either.”

“Who do you think did do it?”

She sighed. “I wish I knew.”

The door chimes sang, and the Silver Six ladies spilled outside. Sherry hooked her arm through Doralee's and they headed across the square to the Lilies Café chattering a mile a minute.

I felt good about my talk with Doralee, but did I believe she'd come completely clean? No. For one thing, why not simply call his cell phone to offer him the opal? Maybe she wasn't as over Ernie as she thought.

*   *   *

I needed to get to the grocery store before our afternoon got busy, and my chance came after the ladies headed out for lunch and Jasmine arrived for her shift. I ducked to the workroom to gather the animals for a walk, but Fred and Dab already had them outside. When I told them I was headed for Mac's Fresh Market, the grocery closest to downtown, they gave me a short list of supplies to buy for the emporium. Coffee, tea, and fancy crackers because Dab had eaten the last of them this morning.

As I pulled into the parking lot, I realized I hadn't been food shopping above three times in the five weeks I'd been in town. The Six had fed me nearly nightly,
and
sent me home with leftovers. Embarrassing to think I'd mooched off of them that long. Well, not exactly mooched. I had been invited to dinners at the farmhouse after all.

At least I knew where Mac's and the other grocery stores were located. Bold red letters spelled out the store name on an older building that had housed another chain in the past. Inside, though, the space was spotless, the aisles clear, and the goods well organized so I could zip in and out without getting sidetracked too much.

I grabbed a red plastic hand basket, counting on the
smaller container to help keep me from impulse buying, and dashed through the aisles. Coffee and tea for the emporium. Two boxes of protein bars, a jar of almond butter, couple of frozen ready-to-stir-fry dinners, two plums, an apple, and three peaches. I avoided the deli with divine-smelling fried chicken. Maise would have a fit if I bought so much as a drumstick. The bread aisle, though, was safe enough.

Until I spotted Eric Shoar in the aisle with a shopping cart.

I might have made a noise because just as he lifted a loaf of whole wheat, he looked up and our gazes locked.

“Hey, Nixy, how are you?”

I smiled at him, moved nearer. It would be rude not to, right? Besides, his deep, dreamy voice always drew me. He looked fine in what I thought of as his uniform, too. Boots, blue jeans, and a collared short-sleeve khaki shirt that set off his early-summer tan.

I gestured at his cart, and yes, inhaled the aroma of fried chicken rising from it. “Is this for lunch?”

“Maybe a snack, but I'll save most of it for dinner. I expect to work late again tonight.”

“Is there anything new on the case?”

“Nice try, but nothing I can share.”

“It was worth a shot,” I said with a grin, then peered up and down the aisle where we stood. We were alone, so I stepped closer and lowered my voice. “I might have something of interest to you. Did Judy Armistead call you yet?”

“Great Buns Judy?”

My lips twitched. “That's the one, but I wouldn't call her that around Grant.”

Now he grinned. “I haven't heard from her. What's up?”

“Kim Thomason was arguing with a blonde woman in the bakery on Saturday morning.”

He frowned. “Did she get this blonde's name?”

“No, but I think we have at least one photo of the woman, and video, too.”

His eyebrows shot higher as I explained taking pictures of our grand opening events for the website. I reminded him, too, that we'd reviewed the security footage after Eleanor's whittling tool had vanished on Saturday.

“And you think the blonde arguing with Ms. Thomason is the same woman who was in your store?”

“I think it's possible. I sure didn't recognize her, or the man she was with, and none of the Six did either. Do you know who she is?”

“I just may.” He glanced at his watch. “Can you get Eleanor's camera and meet me at Great Buns?”

“I can after our afternoon artist's presentation.”

“What time will that end?”

“About three fifteen. Maybe three thirty.”

“I'll phone Judy to see if she can spare us some time then. You can show her the photo.”

“Works for me.”

“Don't mention this to the Silver Six, Nixy. I don't want idle speculation turning into full-fledged gossip.”

*   *   *

I didn't know if the ladies still had Doralee out for lunch, but Fred wasn't in the workroom when I returned from the grocery store. Neither was Dab, and Amber and T.C. were MIA, too. Maybe they were all minding the store.

I sprinted up the stairs, tossed the frozen dinners in the freezer, and the rest of my food into cabinets, then raced back down to get ready for Melissa Osborne's folk painting demonstration. We'd arranged to have her teach a full-fledged class like Doralee had done, but not until next week. I had to admit, I was looking forward to having fewer events after the grand opening wound down.

I remembered to grab the coffee, tea, and fancy crackers for the emporium and take them downstairs. Should I have picked up extra cookies, too? Head slap. No way. Nothing
but homemade passed muster with Maise, and Sherry, Eleanor, and Aster would be insulted, too. Plus, they always made more than enough.

Fred was manning the checkout counter when I entered the emporium through the workshop door. I spotted Dab through the front windows talking with Bog Turner. Bog owned the barbershop just off the town square proper, and though he and Dapper Dab had similar taste in clothes, Bog was bald to Dab's full head of thick white hair.

“I see you remembered the supplies,” Fred observed. “Put 'em back in the kitchenette, and then take over for me.”

I hustled to do as Fred asked even as he clack-clomped his walker toward his workshop.

“Are the ladies still out with Doralee?” I asked.

“Yep, and Dab's got your critters with him, if you're wonderin' where they are, though I ain't thinkin' he's walked 'em yet. Been jawin' with Bog upward of ten minutes. Heat prob'ly ain't good for either of 'em.”

“Dab and Bog, you mean?

“The heat ain't doin' Dab and Bog no favors, but I meant T.C. and Amber. You're still puttin' that salve on their paws, ain't you?”

“Faithfully.”

“That's good, but those animals shouldn't ought to be standin' on the hot concrete for long.”

Fred was right. I hadn't given the sidewalk the barefoot test Dr. Sally the vet had mentioned, but if a surface burned human feet, she'd said, it could easily burn paws.

“Thanks, Fred. I'll send Dab inside and then go walk the critters.”

“Take 'em walkin' by the café, find the women, and tell 'em to hurry up with our food.”

I smiled at Fred's grumbling as I opened the front door. Dab and Bog turned at the sound. T.C. and Amber looked up from under a display bench where they rested in the shade.

“Hey, Nixy,” Bog said. “Dab here says your grand opening is going great.”

I grinned. “We're pleased with the response we've had. You need to come by for refreshments.”

“Is Maise baking old-fashioned peanut butter cookies with the crosshatches and powdered sugar on top?”

“Is there any other kind?” Dab said on a laugh. “Maise and the other gals made sugar cookies, too.”

“For people who don't like peanut butter?” Bog asked.

“For those who have nut allergies,” I corrected. “In fact, they made and wrapped the sugar cookies first so nothing peanutty would contaminate them. We don't want any health emergencies if we can help it.”

“Ah, of course. Well, save me a few of those peanut butter cookies. I'll see about stopping by after I close.”

Dab and I watched a moment as Bog walked off toward his shop, then I took both leashes.

“Why don't you go inside and cool off. I'll wander over to the café and see if the ladies and Doralee are about ready to come back.”

Dab patted his belly. “Good deal. I'm hungry.”

The wind chimes sang again as he entered the store. I reminded myself to take them down before Melissa's presentation and headed straight to the courthouse grounds, where Amber and T.C. could cool their paws on grass. In fact, I could tie off the leashes on the old stone hitching post. The critters would be fine under the shade of one of the numerous magnolia trees on the courthouse grounds long enough for me to pop into the Lilies Café. I'd just begun to tie the leashes when I heard Sherry's laughter ring in the square.

All five of the friends—Doralee, Sherry, Eleanor, Aster, and Maise—looked to be bursting with news as they crossed the street to meet me. Amber's floppy ears lifted, and T.C.'s swiveled as if they, too, were eager to hear what kept the ladies so long. I'm sure they also smelled the food in the
take-out bags Doralee and Aster carried for Fred and Dab. My stomach growled as well.

“These two are so cute,” Doralee said, avoiding eye contact with me as she bent to scratch each animal under the chin. Embarrassed that I'd called her on her lie? Maybe.

“Are you on your way back to the emporium?” Sherry asked me.

“Not yet.” When she frowned, I said, “Why? What's up?”

“We got some interesting intel at lunch,” Maise said.

“And I do believe,” Eleanor added mischievously, “we have clues to follow.”

“Great,” I said with more caution than enthusiasm. “Let me finish walking these two, and I'll be all ears.”

“Fine,” Aster said with a decisive nod. “We'll get the store ready for Melissa's painting presentation so we'll have time to fill you in later.”

The ladies hurried off toward the store, and I hustled the critters on their walk, heading to the neighborhood behind the café and Inn on the Square. The June heat and lack of rain had already taken a toll on the lawns, but Amber sniffed each bush and tree along the sidewalks. T.C. seemed more interested in batting at unsuspecting insects that crossed her path.

When Amber had done her business, we cut across the parking lot behind the Inn on the Square to take advantage of the bit of shade cast by the building. Yes, I felt the weight of having discovered Kim's body upstairs, but shoved the discomfort aside.

I'd just dropped the poop bag in the Dumpster when I noticed Georgine standing at the inn's back door. The woman looked right at me, probably because the Dumpster lid had banged shut. No point in hiding, so I nodded at Georgine, and started walking toward the end of the alley with the critters.

“Ms. Nix, wait,” Georgine called.

I debated about being rude and ignoring her, but my mama had raised me better. I straightened my shoulders and
turned. Georgine approached me cautiously, eyes on the pets and especially on Amber. Both animals sat quietly at my feet, but Georgine kept her distance. Perhaps she'd been bitten by a dog at some time in her life.

“They won't hurt you,” I assured her. Her capris and the three-quarter sleeve blouse buttoned to cover her neck weren't the least rumpled, but the woman herself gave off a disordered vibe. She looked thinner to me, her salt and pepper hair seemed lank and dull, and she had dark circles under her eyes.