Ed Lynskey - Isabel and Alma Trumbo 02 - The Cashmere Shroud (24 page)

“
M
oving on to a less intense but more important subject, is Sammi Jo done with dating Reynolds Kyle?” asked Alma.

“They
’ve patched up things since his tardiness of getting to the turf farm,” replied Isabel. “Tonight she told me they’re rewatching
Beaches
on DVD.”

“That’s a
classic three-hanky tearjerker.”

“Reynolds prefers
to see it with his beverages.”

“Ah, yes
, I can take his point. Cigarettes?”

“
None smoked since she lowered the boom. He’s on the patch, four of them, according to Sammi Jo. He has plenty of incentive not to light up a cigarette, she added.” Isabel dished a sly wink at Alma who understood her drift.

“
Has Cupid’s arrow yet found its mark?” she asked.

“
Straight to the heart, I’d say. She told me how she might drive race cars, and the young turks will eat her dust.”

“Shotgun.”

Isabel laughed. “You can have it, sister. Scrabble is as exciting as it ever gets for me.”

“I hope she doesn’t
get hurt driving the race car.”

“
Alma, she’s always got everything under control. Maybe she’s going to bring down Reynolds a peg or two by trouncing him in a race.”

“Her parents’ murders haven’t left her too visibly upset.”

“I suspect she’s doing most of crying in her heart where it hurts the most. Tulip’s Funeral Home is busy getting her parents ready. She’s going to see Darby Sinclair who keeps the cemetery books about buying two burial plots and granite markers. She’s also having Ray Burl a coffin built custom-made from his favorite honey locust wood. My guess is she’ll break her apartment lease with Eustis and move into the Cape Cod with her good memories still found there. Has she brought up the murders with you?”

“N
ot even a peep about them, Isabel.”

“Maybe she’ll approach us when
, and if, she’s ever ready to talk. Other than lending a sympathetic ear, I don’t know what better we can offer her.”

“Knowing the
steel magnolia Sammi Jo like we do, we’ll probably never hear another peep about them from her.”

“
Time will tell, I suppose.” Isabel picked up her
Alaskan Outdoor
and flipped through its pages. She stopped at an article written about the eye-catching Aurora Borealis, the pulsating globs of psychedelic red, yellow, and violet also known as the northern lights. “We’ll have to testify at Karmine Meriwether’s trial,” she said.

“
We’ll be meeting with Dwight to go over all that. Of course he better get that haircut before court is ever gaveled into session. Will Judge Redfern be hearing the case?”

“Helen recused herself
, which is the smart thing to do being as she knew Ray Burl. That leads us to something else. I’ve had my fill of all this mischief and mayhem. Therefore as the eldest sister, I officially disband the Trumbo Sisters Detective Agency and bar its doors shut forever. Should you or I call Mr. Oglethorpe at his Richmond office and cancel our license?”

Alma
was rolling her eyes so hard they hurt. “Uh-huh. That’s a rash statement to be making point-blank. Our license might be valuable, especially if this recent crime wave continues. Why don’t we play it by ear and see what happens?”

“If you think it’s
for the best, then I won’t raise a fuss over it.”

“
I didn’t think you would. Have you seen my Craig Rice mystery? I thought I left it inside the medicine cabinet to prevent Petey Samson from chewing it up.”

“
Petey Samson doesn’t chew up mysteries, just old mules, and, no, I haven’t seen it lying around the house. Or perhaps I inadvertently mailed it off to Megan. She’s taken a shine to reading mysteries.”

“That’s our niece for you.
Have you decided what to get Louise for her birthday?”

“I ordered
her Charlie Parker’s
Yardbird Suite
on CD.”

“
She’ll love it more than the Doc Kilmer’s swamp root bottle.”

Alma
noticed Isabel kept rolling around a small object inside her loose fist. It was proving to be disconcerting, and Alma had to know what Isabel was fiddling with over there.

“What’s that in your hand?” asked
Alma.

“
Oh, nothing much.”

“Don’t give me that evasion. Come on, let me see it.”

Isabel looked sheepish. “What? This talisman?” She held up a wood tile slightly larger than a piece of Chiclets gum pinched between her index finger and thumb.

Squinting without her
bifocals on, Alma could just make out the letter “Z” worth “10” points, both items stamped on the wood tile’s surface.

“Scrabble,” said
Alma, smiling. “I should’ve known it. You’re a maniac. Let’s play, shall we?”

“
We’ve got plenty of iced tea with lemons and microwave buttered popcorn. Hit up Blue, Willie, and Ossie and invite them if they’re not too busy napping on their sunny bench. We’ll pair off and compete as partners.” Isabel ticked off the list of players again on her fingers. “Wait. That only makes five. Who did I leave out, Alma?”

“Mr. Rhee
,” she replied.

“How could I overlook Mr. Rhee? Tell him to
drop his tailor’s measuring tape, grab his pork pie hat, and come right on from Warrenton.”

“
We’ll have a smashing time.” Alma had out her cell phone.

Petey Samson
, back in the living room with all the excitement, woofed and wagged his tail at them. Isabel slipped Alma a doggie treat to spoil him the right way.

Everything
was back to quiet in Quiet Anchorage, Virginia. For now, anyway.

“
Ladybug, Ladybug Song.” Traditional English Nursery Rhyme. Circa 1774.

“Robert Ryan’s Quiet Furies.” Manohla Dargis.
New York Times
. August 5, 201l.

The Last Steam Railroad in America
. O. Winston Link. Harry N. Abrams, 1995.

Alma and Isabel Trumbo Mystery Series

Quiet Anchorage

The Cashmere Shroud

Private Investigator Frank Johnson Series

Out of Town a Few Days
(short story collection)

Pelham Fell Here

The Dirt-Brown Derby

The Blue Cheer

Troglodytes

The Zinc Zoo

After the Big Noise

Private Investigator Sharon Knowles

A Clear Path to Cross
(short story collection)

Other Novels

Lake Charles
 

The Quetzal Motel

Ask the Dice

Blood Diamonds

Topaz Moon

Outside the Wire

Skin in the Game

Other Short Story Collection

Smoking on
Mount Rushmore