Pearls and Poison (A Consignment Shop Mystery) (21 page)

I
GRABBED
Old Yeller from behind the checkout door, ran to KiKi’s and told her and Bernard to mind the Fox, then jumped in the cruiser, wedging myself into the mound of empty pastry bags.

“Cakery Bakery here we come,” Ross said, gunning the engine.

“We have to make a stop first. It has to do with a fender bender.”

I got a pouting lower lip.

“It’s about that taillight that’s busted out at the lumberyard. We might . . . maybe . . . God willing and a little bit of luck . . . have the match. Honey Seymour’s car has a busted taillight, and she was at the lumberyard last night. I even have her scarf, and it’s a perfect match for one of her expensive suits hanging right there in her closet. Mary Kay over at the Soap Box confirmed it.”

I told Ross about the spots on the skirt and the scattered pills and the empty pill bottle and poodle girl and the foxglove in Honey’s garden and about the wood and the Butler/Seymour connection.

“Delray Valentine wants this election as much as Honey does,” I added. “They both have motive and last night before the fire I was at the lumberyard doing an Odilia thing for a friend.” Only in Savannah could you make that statement to a cop and not wind up in the slammer. “I saw Honey Seymour and Delray drive up in the Lexus. They had words, and Butler flattened Delray. The Lexus was fine then; now the Lexus is at the dealer.”

“Maybe for an oil change?”

“It’s the taillight. Honey told me herself this morning that it was broken. Said someone backed into her. I don’t think so; I think she backed into something out at the lumberyard, and the taillight pieces the police have are a match for Honey’s car.”

Ross slowly sat up straight, dusted off her doughnut crumbs, eyes clear, and a little snarl in her voice when she said to me, “It’s all circumstantial. Honey could have broken the taillight the first time she was out at the lumberyard.”

God help us all, for better or worse, Ross was back. “She didn’t. I saw the Lexus, and it was fine when it drove off, and there was someone else at the lumberyard besides me. My guess, he’s an employee because he and Butler wore the same shirt. He can tell you the same thing. He owns an old red Ford pickup. It shouldn’t be hard to find him, and he’ll tell you what I just did.”

“Maybe she broke the taillight here in town?”

“And maybe she didn’t, but we need that busted taillight. It’s concrete evidence and worth a shot. It puts Honey Seymour and probably Delray at the scene of the crime. They had the motive. They want to save the reputation of Seymour Construction and win the election. My guess is Honey would throw the municipal insurance policies Delray’s way, making him a rich man.”

“What about Kip Seymour? You think they killed him? Why?”

“He was sleeping with the volunteers, and it was about to go public, ruining his chances at getting elected. Honey and Delray were desperate. This all lends to reasonable doubt if Mamma goes to trial. Planting the honey bourbon bottle with Mamma’s fingerprints in my garbage can would not be hard.”

Ross floored the cruiser, hit the sirens, and tore down Gwinnett. Cars pulled to the curb, traffic parting like the Red Sea for Moses as we raced through the city, the Lexus dealership suddenly looming just ahead in a matter of minutes. Ross squealed to a stop in front of the double garage doors marked
Service
.

Ross jumped out, nearly giving herself a hernia, and flashed her badge. “You have a Lexus here getting a taillight repaired. I need to see it and the light you repaired right now.”

“You got a warrant?” a big burly mechanic, oil stains on his pants and shirt, said, swaggering his way toward Ross.

“Don’t need one if you invite me in, which I’m sure you’ll do since I’m doubting you got a permit for that fence out front or that new garage you just added on, and I would just hate to have building inspectors crawling all over this place.”

“We just fixed the light,” swagger guy growled, hands on hips.

“Got the old one you took out?” Ross growled back, hands on hips.

Swagger guy went to a recycle bin and pulled it out.

• • •

BY FIVE O’CLOCK I WAS ON PINS AND NEEDLES WAITING TO
hear from ross. Did the taillight pieces fit? Did they find the employee with the pickup? A lot was riding on that taillight. I wrote up a sale for a yellow jacket and charged the woman the wrong amount; my brain was total mush.

“Did you hear anything?” KiKi asked, wringing her hands as she bustled in the back kitchen door.

“Nothing. Where’s Mamma?”

“I got her teaching the teens. She’s taking her frustration out on them. Maybe they’ll learn something.”

The Fox was empty, customers home doing the Dolly Domestic thing. As I tagged the clothes I took in for consignment that day, KiKi hung them up, BW following her around the shop to make sure she did it right. I had just handed KiKi a cute polka-dot jacket for a display when Honey Seymour barged through the front door. Her eyes were wild, hair on end, and there was a big gun in her hand.

“You!” she scowled, looking right at me. “You little good-for-nothing troublemaker. I didn’t recognize you at my house with that stupid haircut and bad dye job.” Honey waved the gun. “You and your crazy aunt and mother have the police out looking for me all over a stupid broken taillight and sawdust on the bottom of some gasoline cans in my carriage house.”

She aimed the gun at me. “Get out from behind that counter. You all have ruined me, and I’m going to ruin you both, then I’m going after that holier-then-thou judge Gloria Summerside. I was winning this election by a landslide. I was going to be the next alderman and then mayor and then who knows how high I’d go. The barmaid makes good. I was on my way to sitting on Savannah’s city council and running this here city.”

Money-Honey aimed the gun and pulled the trigger, the blast echoing off the walls and the bullet zinging by my left ear and hitting the stairs. Holy crap!

“That’s just a little sample of what’s coming. I’m finished, and it’s not my fault. I didn’t do that fire at the lumberyard,” she sobbed. “You’re setting me up for that, and killing Kip was nothing but an accident. I didn’t kill him on purpose. He was having an attack, and I gave him one of his pills thinking it would help, but it just made things worse, and then he stopped breathing, and I slapped him around a few times, but it didn’t do any good. It never did any good the other times either. Blast that man!”

“And since he was already dead,” I said, playing for time, “you put the pills in the honey bourbon bottle so you could frame Mamma and take your husband’s place and win the election.” Lord have mercy, where were nosy neighbors when you needed them? Where were the sirens? The police? They were there fast enough when I was at Dozer’s.

“Framing Gloria was Delray’s idea, all Delray,” Honey said. “And maybe a little mine. We put so much work and effort into the campaign, and Kip was just ruining everything with his fooling around and poking anything in a skirt. I swear that man never did know how to keep his pants zipped.”

“You had every right to be upset,” I said to keep Honey focused on me and not KiKi. I hoped the police would get here soon; anytime now would be good.

I caught some movement by the kitchen door. The police? No! It was Mamma charging into the hall like the marines and yelling, “No one holds a gun on my daughter and sister!”

Money-Honey spun around, fired another shot that hit the ceiling as Mamma whacked her over the head with a campaign sign, knocking her to the floor. KiKi kicked the gun under the checkout door, Mamma and I pounced on top of Money-Honey, and I tied her hands roughly behind her back with her very own cream-colored Chanel scarf that matched her suit perfectly.

• • •

“YOU’RE REALLY NOT GOING TO RUN FOR ALDERMAN?” I SAID
to mamma the next morning over coffee at her house, Auntie KiKi off picking Uncle Putter up at the airport.

Mamma took a sip and shook her head. “I couldn’t win. Even though Honey’s confessed to killing Kip and there’s overwhelming evidence she and Delray knocked off Butler and set the fire at the lumberyard, there’s too much that’s gone on. A hint of scandal is all it takes to kill a campaign, and this time it was a lot more than a hint. Besides, I like being a fulltime judge, and I think Archie Lee is going to do a pretty fair job on city council. I ordered a big bouquet of flowers from Flora’s Flowers, and I was going to drop them off in person to wish him luck.”

I put down my coffee. “You’re kidding?”

“I want to make peace with him, Reagan. If he has problems, I want him to feel free to ask me for help. It’s what’s best for Savannah; that’s why I was running for alderman in the first place. I love this city. I want to take care of it and keep it strong and vibrant.”

Mamma checked her watch. “I have a meeting down at the courthouse to get my chambers in order and my cases rescheduled.” She beamed. “Guillotine Gloria is back.”

I wished Mamma luck then headed off to talk to Mavis Lee Hornback who planned to redecorate and wanted to consign furniture at the Fox. Her lovely late-Federal clapboard two-story faced Crawford Square, taking me past Colonial Park Cemetery and the Cemetery. My steps slowed the closer I got to the bar.

If Mamma was big enough to make amends with Archie Lee, so was I. Right? He might just toss me out on my behind, but it wouldn’t be the first time, and I’d survive. If I made peace too, maybe Archie Lee would bury the hatchet and contact Mamma if he needed something. I had to do what was best for the city.

“Hi,” I said, moseying up to the bar stacked with boxes. The Cemetery was quiet this early in the morning, lights on to clean the place up but no one around except Archie Lee clearing out a big crate.

Archie Lee looked up, a snide grin on his face. “Go away.”

“I came to wish you luck in the election,” I said all cheery and sweet and trying my best to be sincere.

He stopped working and swiped his forehead. “Well, ain’t that special. The thing is, I don’t need your luck or anyone else’s. I’ve got this election wrapped up. I’ve got everything under control. I’m the new alderman, and I’m going to do it up right. I’m getting new clothes and a new car and maybe a new house if I get the urge. Here, let me show you something.”

Archie Lee took a white box from the bar and pulled off the lid. He set aside the bill from Spanish Moss Printers and took out a lovely embossed invitation. “Feast your eyes on this little gem. I’m having myself a celebration party the night of the election over at the Old Pink House. Archie Lee, the big man in town for a change. Guess no one will be snubbing me anymore, will they?”

He handed me the bill. “Just the invitations cost a lot of money. I’m a man who knows how to get what he wants.”

“Those are expensive,” I said, using up every bit of nice I had in me. I smiled and handed back the bill, then stopped. I took another look, a closer look at the bill this time. The date the invitations were ordered was the very day after Money-Honey declared her candidacy. There was no way Archie Lee could have known he was going to win the election then. Fact is Money-Honey had the lead, a really big lead.

“You know, don’t you?” Archie Lee said in a too-sweet voice, making every hair on my head stand straight up.

“I don’t know anything,” I said, tossing the bill in the box and backing toward the door.

Archie Lee reached under the bar, brought out a shotgun, and pointed it right at my middle. “You and your buddy in the back are just too darn smart for your own good, you know that?”