Gone With a Handsomer Man (34 page)

“Did Estaurado hurt you, baby? ’Cause if he did, his ass is going straight back to the third-world toilet he came from.”

I shook my head. She was very convincing. Could she possibly be innocent? Maybe Estaurado had killed Bing and Faye. But no, she was listed as the trustee on the fake document.

She was still holding my hands, mashing my bones. “Honey, tell me what’s wrong.”

“If you help me, you’re breaking the law,” I said. “I can’t drag you into this.”

“I’m not worried about myself, darlin’,” she said.

I tried to squirm away, but her nails dug into my flesh. Estaurado got into the front seat and gripped the steering wheel. It was covered with brown fake fur, matching the hairs on the backs of his fingers. A set of trouble dolls dangled from the rearview mirror by a tiny noose.

Miss Dora let go of my hands and thumped the seat. “Let’s get moving,” she said. Estaurado pulled into the street. I planned to jump out at the first red light, but Estaurado sped through intersections, ignoring blasting horns. He cut down a side street and drove toward Calhoun.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“It’s your adventure. I’m just in it.” She smiled. “Where do you want to go?”

She was playing with me. “I don’t feel good,” I said.

“Maybe the mimosa disagreed with you,” she said.

“I think it did.” I shifted my gaze, hoping the mimosa would do more than disagree with her. I hoped she would spontaneously combust.

She strapped me into my seat belt. “It’s a state law,” she said.

Estaurado hunched over the steering wheel, his fingers sinking into the fake fur. He turned on the radio, and the car pulsed with a Jimi Hendrix song—“Hey Joe,” a great song for a murder.

I assumed we were headed to Old Santee Canal State Park where they’d probably stick me in a shallow grave, but Estaurado turned onto Meeting Street.

“I just want to turn myself in,” I said. Between Estaurado’s hair tonic and Miss Dora’s perfume, I couldn’t get my breath. Odors sometimes triggered my asthma attacks, and my inhaler was at the Spencer-Jackson House in my true pocketbook.

“Turn your pretty self in?” Miss Dora laughed. “Why on earth would you do that?”

“I want to do the right thing.” I studied her face. She didn’t show any sign of the Splenda allergy. Maybe I hadn’t put enough into her mimosa.

“But you were all set to run,” she said. “What caused this change of heart? You
are
innocent, aren’t you?”

“What if I’m not?”

“Wouldn’t that be hysterical?” She snorted. “You don’t have a mean bone in your body.”

“I do, too.” I tried to twist away, but she grabbed my arm. “You’re hurting me.”

“Then stop fidgeting.”

“I don’t mean to. I can’t breathe.” I wasn’t fooling. I couldn’t get a full breath.

“Where’s your inhaler?” She looked genuinely concerned.

“Home.”

“Home?” she asked.

“The Spencer-Jackson House,” I said.

“Estaurado, turn up the air conditioner.” His hand moved to the dash, and the air hissed out, twirling the trouble dolls.

“Don’t you have an inhaler at Bing’s house?” she asked.

“He probably threw it away.”

“Maybe not.” She let go of me and raked her fingernails over her neck, leaving white lines on the pink flesh. The marks instantly turned dark red. “I’m just itching all over. Like I’ve got chigger bites. Estaurado, pull into KFC.”

“
Qué
?” He looked flustered.

“Kentucky Fried Chicken, you nitwit,” she cried. “I’ve got to put ice on these welts.”

He swerved into the parking lot. “Ice or ice water?” he asked in heavily accented English.

“I’ll just do it myself.” She flung open her door and scrambled out. “But watch her.”

The minute she started toward KFC, I unbuckled my seat belt. Estaurado leaned into the backseat, reaching past me, and wrenched off the door handle. Then his long arm shot out toward the other door, and he ripped off Miss Dora’s handle. He flashed me a “take that” stare and folded himself into the front seat.

I looked around for another way to escape. The windows were electric. I pressed the button. Nothing. I pressed it again. Okay, homegirl, next idea. I reached into Ava’s purse and got the phone. I didn’t know how to scroll through her programmed numbers, but I had to try. Keeping the phone hidden in the bag, I glanced at the display and saw Coop’s number. I hit send. The phone emitted a faint toot. I found the volume control and turned it up. A series of beeps cut through the music.

Estaurado picked up his cell phone and frowned.

“Please turn down the radio,” I shouted, hoping Coop could hear. “Where are you and Miss Dora taking me?”

He ignored me and twirled the dial; the music faded.

“Estaurado, are you taking me to Bing’s house?” I asked in a shrill voice.

“
Sí
.” He nodded emphatically.

“So, let me get this straight,” I said, a bit louder. “We’re going to Bing’s house?”

“Woman, why you scream?” He flashed an irritated glance and turned up the radio.

Through the side window, I saw Miss Dora come out of KFC, clutching napkins and a tall cup. I poised myself at the door, ready to spring. Her face looked mottled. She was turning into her favorite color, head to toe. Balancing the cup and napkins in one hand, she reached for the back door, but it wouldn’t open. Estaurado leaned across the front seat and flung open the passenger door. She stuck her head inside and peered into the backseat. Her eyes narrowed when she saw the missing handles.

“What happened?” she asked. “Teeny, did you try to leave us?”

I shrugged, as if missing handles weren’t out of the ordinary. Coop, I thought, please be listening.

“Damn you, Estaurado. I told you to watch over her, and you do this!” She settled into the passenger seat, then poured ice into a napkin and dabbed it over her cheeks. “I just don’t know what’s the matter. It’s like I’ve had Splenda.”

“Your face is swelling,” I said. “Maybe you should go to the emergency room.”

“No, the ice is helping already. I’m just a highly allergic person. Estaurado, if you won’t turn off that music, can you at least change it to something I like?”

He twirled the dial and Five for Fighting began singing “Dying.”

“Much better!” She pointed to the road. “Go.”

forty-four

Estaurado eased the Cadillac into traffic and headed toward the bridge. Miss Dora couldn’t sit still. She flipped down the visor and peered into the mirror. “What the poop is going on with my poor skin?” she cried, scraping her fingernails over her cheeks. “I’m on fire!”

“Please go to a hospital,” I said. “Estaurado can drive me to Georgia. Can’t you, Estaurado?”

“I’ll be fine. Just give me a minute.” She pushed up the visor, reached for her ice, and ran it over her right ear. I pulled my collar away from my throat. My breathing hadn’t worsened, but it wouldn’t get any better without an inhaler. I’d kept one in Bing’s medicine cabinet—unless he’d thrown it away. I tried to sit very still so I wouldn’t be on Miss Dora’s mind. She was preoccupied with her itching, and it was starting to interfere with her acting abilities.

Straight ahead, traffic flowed onto the bridge. The Cadillac’s engine made a grinding noise as the car moved past the double triangles. I saw the USS
Yorktown
. The water was glossy, except for a broad ripple where the Cooper River touched Charleston Harbor.

“Please drive slower, Estaurado.” Miss Dora glanced at me. “Let’s just hope he understood me. The other day I told him to bring floral s
opa
and he showed up with chicken noodle soup, garnished with roses.”

Estaurado followed Highway 17 past Mount Pleasant Towne Center, and turned onto Rifle Range Road. A peeling sign for Orchard Estates flashed by with Bing’s name in bold letters. The Cadillac swerved into the subdivision and rushed by weedy lots, each one with a Jackson Realty sale sign. The Cadillac jumped the curb and stopped within inches of the yellow police tape and orange cones in front of the driveway.

“Move that blockade,” Miss Dora said.

The Cadillac dipped as Estaurado got out. He shoved the cones to the side, climbed back into the car, then hit the gas.

“Stop!” Miss Dora flung out her arm. Estaurado hit the brake. “Quit thinking in Spanish,” she told him. “You have to put it back together again, Humpty Dumpty.”

“Who?” Estaurado’s face knotted.

“Never mind. Just put those cones back like they were, and make it snappy.”

He seemed to know what snappy meant. He climbed out and rearranged the cones, stretching the tape across the driveway, then rushed back to the car.

“Finally!” Miss Dora said. “Drive toward the garage and park next to that big crepe myrtle—and drive slowly.”

Three separate commands seemed to confuse Estaurado. The Cadillac inched through dappled sunlight into shade, then stopped next to the garage.

“Stop here.” Miss Dora’s hand disappeared into her purse and emerged with a Hello Kitty keychain. “I’m going ahead. Estaurado, bring Teeny.”

“
Traiga a Teeny
?” he asked.

“Like I know what that means! Oh, for heaven’s sake. Listen to me, Estaurado, and listen good. Take her into the damn
casa
.”

She shot out of the car like a pink cannonball. The porch was blocked off with more yellow tape, and an official-looking sign hung on the door. She eased around the barrier and slid the key into the lock.

Estaurado opened my door and grabbed my arm.

“I can walk by myself,” I said.

He yanked me out of the backseat. “No business of monkeys,” he said.

My hat flew off as he pulled me to the porch. The front door stood open. He steered me into the foyer and called for Miss Dora.

“In here,” she answered.

It could have been a scene from
I Love Lucy
, a sinister one where Lucille Ball had turned into Lizzie Borden. I tried to wrench free, but Estaurado dragged me into the hall. We found Miss Dora in the master bathroom briskly rubbing ointment over her swollen flesh. A tube of Lanacane lay on the counter. She glanced over at me.

“How’s your breathing?” she asked.

“Not good.”

“That’s a shame.” Miss Dora gestured at three monkey figurines on the countertop—See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil. “The infamous three wise monkeys—how tacky!”

She lifted the blue figurine, Speak No Evil. “Have either of you ever seen a blue monkey? No, I didn’t think so. Bing’s first wife was utterly tasteless. I chased her off but just look, the monkeys are still here. They had the last word.”

I didn’t care about monkeys. I couldn’t get air. Each breath sounded like I was dragging a stick through gravel.

Miss Dora turned the figurine upside down. “Supposedly, if you don’t speak, hear, or see evil, you will do no evil. But I don’t believe it for one second.” She dropped the figurine. It exploded on the tile floor. Blue china fragments skittered along the floorboards. She reached into the cabinet and pulled out my inhaler. I started toward her, but she jerked it out of my reach.

“Not so fast,” she said. “You’ll have to earn it. Where did Bing keep his documents?”

“I don’t know.” Did a lie under duress still count? I supposed it did and marked down number eighteen.

“You’re a pathetic liar, Teeny. If I didn’t have to kill you, I’d
buy
you a set of wise monkeys. Lord knows you need them.” She pressed down on the inhaler and it whooshed. The smell of Ventolin drifted over. I took a greedy breath.

A buzzing sound came from Ava’s purse. Miss Dora set the inhaler on the counter. “Answer her phone, Estaurado.”

He reached for the purse. I jerked it away. He wrenched it from my grasp, and the bag went flying. Ava’s keys, red wallet, and lipstick hit the floor. The Splenda packets fluttered to Miss Dora’s feet like tiny yellow birds.

forty-five

Miss Dora walked over to me and shook a Splenda packet. “What’s
this
?” she cried. “Did you poison my mimosa?”

“This isn’t my purse,” I said. “It’s Ava’s. Look at her wallet if you don’t believe me.”

“I won’t even ask how you ended up with your rival’s purse.” Miss Dora threw down the packet and scratched her arm, leaving white marks on her scarlet flesh. “Get that damn phone, Estaurado.”

I held my breath while he looked at the cell phone’s display. “Is alarm clock,” he said.

I tried to grab it but the phone slipped from his hand and hit the floor. A chunk of plastic broke off. The display continued to make a wounded buzzing sound.

Miss Dora reached for the inhaler. “One more time, Teeny. Where are Bing’s documents?”

I didn’t have the breath to make up a lie, so I shook my head.

She depressed the inhaler again. “You’re running out of medicine and I’m running out of patience. Bing’s documents belong to me, not you. I don’t know why that little bastard left you everything. It’s rightfully mine. I
worked
for it.”

“Take it all,” I said in a strangled voice. “I don’t want it.”

She set the inhaler on the counter, out of my reach, and pointed at Estaurado. “Get some
ropa
and tie up her hands and feet,” she said.

He went into Bing’s closet and emerged with two woolen scarves. “
Ropa
,” he said.

“That’s not what I wanted!” Miss Dora cried. “Oh, forget it. Just make sure she can’t get loose.”

She came toward me. My breath sawed in and out of my lungs. If I didn’t grab my rescue inhaler, my throat would narrow to a pinpoint. I decided it was high time I dropped the Miss from Dora.

“Make her hold still,” she told Estaurado. He grabbed my shoulders. I twisted away, slapping his arms. But he was too strong. I couldn’t escape; I needed to make Dora see me as a person—as her former friend. I remembered our shared love for movies.

“Get your filthy hands off me, you damned, dirty ape,” I cried.

“Charleston Heston.” Dora clapped her hands. “
Planet of the Apes
.”

“Now you’re dangerous,” I whispered.

“Didn’t Humphrey Bogart say that in
The Maltese Falcon
?” Dora laughed. “Oh, Teeny, I’m going to miss you like crazy. But don’t you worry, I’ll get over it in a heartbeat. The minute I move into the Spencer-Jackson, I’ll be my wonderful, normal self.”