Divas and Dead Rebels (24 page)

I’m a terribly impatient person, I’ve realized. I always want to know endings in books and in real-life mysteries at the beginning. I’m one of those people who flip to the back pages of a book just to see if it ends nicely before I’ll buy it. Not that I remember who committed the crime or got the girl; I just remember that it had a nice ending, so I can read it with anticipation instead of dread. Oddly, considering my current situation in being inundated with furry, four-legged creatures, I also have to know if the dog, cat, or other animal is killed off in the book before I’ll read it. If the animal dies, in a book or in a movie, I don’t want to read it or see it. That’s the reason I’ve never seen
Dances With Wolves,
although I understand it was a lovely movie, and I’ve always liked Kevin Costner. I’ve never gotten over the ending of
Turner and Hooch
, which was billed as a comedy, and to my mind, had a horrible ending.

So you can imagine how I felt waiting on the police to call and let me know if Catherine Moore was okay, if she’d shot someone, or if it’d all been a mistake and she’d just shot off her bathroom doorknob.

Those things happen. Bitty still has a bullet hole in her back door where she shot at and missed a falling tree branch. She’d been certain it was a burglar. This is just one of the many, many reasons the good citizens of Holly Springs breathe much easier when her gun is in the custody of the police. It’s a heavy, wicked-looking thing, a Colt .45 that’s way too big for her to hold steadily. Not that a little thing like a ventilated door bothers Bitty very much. During our annual pilgrimages she passes off the bullet hole in her back door as made by a Yankee soldier. It gets a lot of extra attention. Most tourists don’t know that the sun porch used to be the kitchen, and the back door isn’t as old as the car my mama drives. Things like bullet holes in doors add an air of danger and excitement.

We took our coffee into the living room, and since the fire had died down to a hot bank of coals, Kit turned on the lights and blew out the guttering candles. Even though I tried to focus on conversation, I kept thinking about Catherine and what was happening in Oxford. Finally Kit reached over and put a hand on my arm.

“Come on, honey. Let’s go up to the police station and see if we can talk to the sergeant firsthand. We’re more liable to find out what’s going on if we’re there.”

“We should go by and pick up Bitty,” I said.

“Will she be awake?”

“It doesn’t matter. If I don’t tell her what’s going on, I’ll never hear the end of it. I’d rather her be mad at me for waking her up than for leaving her out.”

Kit sighed, but went right along with me when I banged on her front door. I’d already tried to call her, but got her answering machine at the house and left a message on her cell phone. The storm door she uses in the winter was latched, so I couldn’t get to the lock for which I had a key. The house was dark and silent, so I knew she was asleep.

“Wait here,” I said. “I’ll go around to the back door. It’s probably unlocked.”

“Won’t you set off her alarm system?”

“Only if she remembered to set it. I know the code anyway. If she comes to the front door, tell her I’m around back. I think she’d better hear about Catherine from me.”

“No argument there. I’m more than willing for you to deal with her.”

I left Kit standing on the porch under a chandelier that wasn’t lit. Sometimes she forgets to set the switch so the lights come on at dusk. Bitty really needs a house that runs on automatic everything. She’d forget to turn on the electricity if it wasn’t already wired.

As I’d hoped, the back door was unlocked. No alarm beeped a reminder to punch in the code when I went in, so I knew she’d forgotten to set the system as well.
Really
. One of these days Bitty was going to be robbed of everything she had, and then she might remember to lock doors and set alarms, I told myself as I went up the stairs and into her kitchen. A low light over the stovetop illuminated a small area, and since I know her house almost as well as my parents’, I didn’t bother flipping on any lights as I headed for the front door to let Kit inside.

Just as I rounded the corner into the hallway, something big and squishy hit me in the head. I staggered sideways. It hit me again, so I screamed. I wasn’t really hurt, but I was alarmed. Had someone snuck into Bitty’s house to rob her? While a small part of me thought it was way overdue, the more rational part of me wanted to get rid of the intruder before he did any damage.

This time when the big squishy weapon smacked me in the face, I was ready. I grabbed at it at the same time as I brought up my foot. I caught a brief glimpse of my attacker as I snatched the bulky thing away. I kicked him and heard a gratifying grunt of pain. I could hear Kit banging on the front door and yelling, and I screamed again so he’d be a bit more proactive in my rescue.

It must have worked. I heard glass breaking just as I slung my confiscated weapon toward the intruder, who was squeaking unintelligible words. He was short and wearing a black face mask, some kind of stocking cap on his head, what looked like a raincoat, and a pair of gloves. My blow knocked him for a loop. I saw him reel backward to land on the floor, then he was up and at me again.

This time he had something in his hand that wasn’t soft and squishy. It was hard and rigid. I tried to duck, but before I could get out of the way, he hit me right square on top of the head with it.

I saw stars. I heard birds singing and the waves of the ocean crashing ashore. My knees turned to jelly, and I toppled over like a felled tree. I wondered hazily if I’d fallen in the forest, would anyone hear? Then I was only vaguely aware of confusion around me and lights flashing before I slipped away into that safe place behind my closed eyelids.

Something really vile smelling
jerked me awake, and I came upright gasping for clean air. To my surprise, an EMT crouched beside me, and just beyond him Kit hovered with a worried expression next to two policemen. What on earth?

At the same time as the EMT guy asked me to tell him my name, Kit asked me if I was all right. I didn’t know who to answer first, so I just said, “Get me up off the floor.”

The EMT put his hand on my shoulder to keep me from getting up. “I have to take your vitals before I let you up.”

“My vitals are fine,” I said rather indignantly. “It’s my head that hurts. Did you catch the burglar?”

One of the policeman said, “Lady, you
are
the burglar.”

Now I was really confused. I looked from the policeman to Kit, who shrugged and nodded. They weren’t making any sense. Maybe Bitty could clear—Bitty! Had she been hurt?

“Where’s Bitty?” I asked frantically. “Is she okay? Was she hurt? Tell me she isn’t hurt!”

“She’s fine, unless you consider jumbo size Charmin lethal,” the EMT said. “Now please be still while I take your blood pressure.”

I was still trying to figure out what toilet paper had to do with Bitty’s state of health when she popped up next to Kit. I gave a start. I knew it was Bitty, yet I’d never seen her look quite so . . . un-Bitty-like.

I’ve seen Bitty’s nightwear plenty of times. She always wears a pink cap, pink eyeshades, and usually some kind of pink gown or pajamas. Her slippers are usually pink and frothy with feathers.

This Bitty, however, wore a dark blue terrycloth robe, some kind of blue knit cap on her head, and black eyeshades hung loosely around her neck. I blinked at her a couple times. She lifted one hand and waggled gloved fingers at me.

“You okay, sugar?”

“Who are you, and what have you done with Bitty?”

This time she didn’t sound quite as calm. “I hope you know you frightened me nearly to death! And poor Chen Ling—I had to put her upstairs, she was so upset!”

“You were being burglarized. What did you want me to do?”

The EMT sounded annoyed when he said, “Your blood pressure is unstable. Be still for a moment so I can get a decent reading.”

I figured my blood pressure was going up faster than the national debt. So I sat still and quiet until he finished, pronounced me fit—or well enough to get off the floor, anyway—and began to pack up the tools of his trade. He seemed to want to escape very quickly, and I was willing to let him go.

Kit helped me up and into the living room where I refused to sit on Bitty’s antique and very uncomfortable settee, and sat instead in one of the more comfortable chairs. They’re antique, too, but not stuffed with horsehair. Not even a horse would find that settee comfortable.

“Okay,” I said when I was situated, “what happened?”

Truthfully, I’d begun to figure it out while the EMT was counting bubbles or whatever it is they count. Bitty’s attire was the key. She’d thought I was a burglar, and I thought she was a masked intruder. Apparently we had whacked away at each other in the dark with God only knew what kind of weapons.

“I heard a noise,” began Bitty, “so I got out of bed and came downstairs.”

“
A
noise?” I echoed. “We rang the bell and beat on the door. Are you wearing ear muffs, too?”

“Don’t be silly, Trinket. As I told the nice officers, this was all a terrible mistake. I didn’t know it was you in the hallway. I looked at the door and saw this big shadow, so I thought someone was breaking in and called nine-one-one. Then I couldn’t find Chen Ling. So I came the rest of the way down the stairs.”

“And ran into me,” I said. “What did you hit me with?”

“The first time? I just grabbed whatever I could find. It happened to be the super-size package of Charmin mega-roll toilet paper. It felt heavy, so I thought it would work pretty well.”

“It did. But that isn’t what you hit me with the last time.”

“No. When you knocked me down, I found one of Chen Ling’s toys on the floor. That’s what I hit you with.”

There was something she wasn’t telling me. Her lips were pressed into a tight line, and her eyes wouldn’t quite meet mine. When I glanced at Kit, I noticed that he didn’t meet my gaze either. The two police officers still standing in the foyer began laughing. I narrowed my eyes at Bitty.

“Elisabeth Ann Truevine Hollandale, you tell me right this instant what you did. I know it must be something awful,” I said.

Bitty’s cheeks flushed, and after a moment, she nodded. “Remember when I came to see you at Carolann’s shop and brought Chen Ling with me? Well, remember the toy she liked so much?”

For a moment I just stared at her, then it hit me: Chen Ling had latched onto one of Rose Allgood’s sex toys and run off down the street with it. Bitty had been forced to buy it since it was damaged once we got it away from the pug, of course.

“You hit me with a
dildo
?” My voice rose on the last word, and again I heard a burst of laughter from the police at the front door. I felt my face get hot, and there was no way I was going to even look in Kit’s direction.

To my surprise, Bitty looked just as embarrassed as I felt.

“Well,” she said, “it’s not like it’s ever been
used
or anything. Except to chew on, of course. Chen Ling does love to chew on it.”

There was no way I was going to say one more word in reference to the huge rubber dildo. The night had already turned into a disaster, and at that thought, I realized I’d not even mentioned my reason for showing up at Bitty’s house in the middle of the night.

About the time I opened my mouth, she held up her hands and said, “I’m wearing these gloves because of the new hand cream I bought that guarantees to get rid of dry skin, calluses, and make them soft again. It stains.”

I took her cue to change the subject from Carolann’s merchandise.

“Since when have you done anything to get calluses?” I asked, and she shrugged. I shook my head, and that sent a sharp pain from my neck to my eyebrows. Getting hit with hard rubber can be excruciating.

“So why did you come over here in the middle of the night, anyway?” asked Bitty as if just thinking of it. “I thought you and Kit were . . . you know.”

That intimation sent another flush of heat to my face, and I glared at her until she had the grace to add, “Having dinner or something.”

“Dinner was delicious, thank you,” I said, “but I have some news for you that may distress you.”

Before she could leap to the wrong conclusion I added quickly, “Nothing to do with your boys.”

She nodded. I glanced at Kit, who was sitting with one leg propped over his knee and a hand over his mouth, and then I looked back at Bitty.

“Catherine Moore called me tonight. Someone had broken into her house, she thought, and there was a gunshot before we were disconnected. The Oxford police have been called and are checking on her.”

Bitty’s eyes widened. “Did she have a chance to tell you anything else?”

“Just that she was sure the intruder was Breck Hartford looking for evidence she has collected against him.”

“When will we know what the police have found?”

“I don’t know.” I glanced over at the police still standing in Bitty’s foyer. They were doing some kind of paperwork. “Soon, I hope.”