Rogues & Rascals in Goose Pimple Junction (Goose Pimple Junction Mysteries Book 4) (14 page)

“I take your point.” She tried to turn away, but the woman followed, continuing to talk.

“I mean, there’s a stump in Louisiana with a higher IQ than Caledonia Culpepper.”

“Well, now—”

“I mean, she carries an empty Easter basket if you catch my drift.”

“I know what you mean.” Wynona coughed into her hand to keep from chuckling at her pun that obviously went over Penny’s head.

“I mean, if brains were chocolate, she wouldn’t have enough for an M&M.”

Wynona wanted to put a stop to this line of conversation. “Are you here by yourself?”

“Yes. I have two employees that help out, but they don’t come in until later.”

“That must be a lot of work for you. Does your husband mind you working that hard?”

Penny cocked her head.

Leafing through the rack of dresses against the wall, Wynona explained, “I met him briefly at the party last night.”

“Oh,” Penny grunted. “He doesn’t seem to care what I do.” She stopped talking and began straightening dresses on a round rack. Seconds later, the bell over the shop door signaled Caledonia’s arrival. The smell of rain wafted into the store. “Ooooweee. It’s coming up a bad cloud out there. I thought I was going to get blown away.”

Penny snorted and muttered, “Not much chance of that happening.”

Caledonia feigned a smile. “Lovely to see you, Miss Penny. Bless your heart.” She looked past the woman to Wynona. “Morning, Trixie.”

“Morning to you.” Seeing the two women together, Wynona understood Paprika’s point of how much they resembled each other. Caledonia was considerably more beautiful than Penny, but their height, build, and hair were very similar. She decided it would be best not to mention that to either woman. Even though both had lovely figures, it was obvious neither would want to be compared to the other.

“Oh, Caledonia, you don’t have to act all highfalutin with your ‘
Miss
Penny.’“

Caledonia didn’t have to fake a smile this time. “Mama always said to be respectful of my elders.”

Penny rolled her eyes dramatically. “I’m only two years older than you. I’m hardly your
elder
.”

“Two years? Is that all?” Caledonia’s hand went to her throat. “Well, you’re Philetus’s age. I always tell him he’s not old; he’s rustic, and that’s chic nowadays.”

“Yes, well, it’s easier to get older than it is to get wiser.” Penny moved toward Caledonia slightly, studying her face. “You know there’s a place up in Nashville that will clear those sun spots right up. I’ll write down the name and number for you.” She turned on her heel and walked away. “Y’all let me know if you need anything,” she said over her shoulder.

Caledonia’s face showed shock as she watched Penny retreat. She wheeled around to Wynona. “Well that was rude. How rude! I’ll tell you how rude—”

“She had a lot to say about you.”

“I’ll just bet she did.” Caledonia fumed.

“Don’t worry about her. Let’s do some retail therapy.”

“Am I late? I’m sorry you had to endure a conversation with that woman.” Caledonia looked over her shoulder and then lowered her voice, turning back to Wynona. “The only place that woman is invited is outside, so she has to chat up her customers every chance she gets.”

Wynona put her arm around Caledonia and led her in the opposite direction of Penny. “Let’s forget about Miss Penny. We’re here to shop.”

“With pleasure.” Caledonia sighed. “On both accounts.”

Wynona made a show of looking out the window. “Is Paprika coming?”

“No, remember? She had to work. She’s a computer whiz. She works out of her home mostly doing freelance stuff. She has some steady customers, but she’ll take just about any job that comes along. Mostly security-related stuff. People actually hire her to try to break into their systems. Can you believe that?”

“Wow. She sounds smart.”

Caledonia nodded. “Pixie, she’s smart as a whip, let me tell you.”

Wynona’s face was quizzical, and Caledonia quickly added, “You don’t mind if I nickname you that, do ya? I have a nickname for everybody. And it rhymes, plus you remind me of a little pixie.”

“I guess not.” Wynona didn’t particularly like the nickname but decided not to fight it.

As the women shopped, Wynona glanced outside and saw trees bending and leaves fluttering in the wind. The sky was dark and ominous, looking like a storm would blow through any minute. She thought about her wig and wondered if it would hold in place. Maybe they could stay in the store long enough for the storm to pass. Then she spotted a wide-brimmed summer hat. It was made of tight-weave straw and reminded her of something a Southern belle would wear. She could buy it, and then she’d have an excuse to put her hand on top of her head to hold down the hat—and her Farrah Fawcett wig—without it looking odd. Perfect solution.

Caledonia chattered on happily as she combed through the dress racks. Wynona thought she wasn’t as dumb as Penny had suggested. In fact, she was rather charming and witty. Wistfully, she daydreamed of another life where she and Caledonia were best friends. They’d have lunch dates and shopping excursions. Sadly, that life was not to be.

Mama always said . . . Be careful picking your friends, ‘cause clean don’t rub off on dirty.

W
ynona sat in the diner flirting over the phone with Beau, the manager of the local car rental place. She was beginning to get used to talking with the artificially enhanced lips. “Yes, I came in the other day and signed the papers.” In a coy tone, she said, “Remember me?” and giggled like a brainless twit. She hated herself for it. But a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.

She’d gone into the rental place a few days ago, all tarted up in a mini-skirt and low-cut top, and she’d hoped to, and succeeded in, finding a man behind the desk instead of a woman. At first, the guy wasn’t willing to do what she needed, but with a lot of flirting and a little cash, she’d accomplished her goal. “You said all I needed to do was call when I was ready for the van, and someone would deliver it. So here I am. Calling.” She put a little twang and a lot of flirt into each word. “Dinner? Well, sure, honey. I could do that when I return the van tomorrow night.”
Or when hell freezes over.

“Now, remember, I can’t meet you when you bring the car, but you said you could leave the key under a mat for me, right? I’m really desperate to have it this afternoon. Yes, I know this isn’t usual company policy, and I really hate to be so difficult, but I’ll make it worth your while.”

She’d signed the contract under Lorena Foster, a different persona than the bohemian Trixie. She didn’t want anyone to associate Trixie with the rental this afternoon. Nobody besides the car guy had met Lorena, so she felt she had all her bases covered.
Being too cautious? Never.

As she ended the call, she watched Caledonia’s husband and some homely woman two tables over.
Poor Caledonia . . .

She smiled when Hank Beanblossom came into the diner and headed for her booth.
You figure into my plan just fine, Officer.
She fluffed her bangs so they fell even more over her eyes.

“Officer Beanblossom.” She made her tone friendly but kept it short—she didn’t want to lead him on. Besides, Lorena was the flirt. Trixie was the shy one. Sometimes she had trouble remembering who she was.

“Trixie, I wanted to apologize for how our date ended last night.” He slid into the booth seat opposite her.

“That’s all right. I know all about the call of duty.”

“You do?”

“Well . . . I can imagine.” She gave him what she hoped was a shy smile.

“I’d like to make it up to you by taking you to dinner with some friends of mine. I know you’ll like them, and it will be a chance to get to know each other better.”

She cocked her head. “Don’t you already know your friends?”

“You and me.” His finger waggled back and forth between them. “I want to get to know
you
better.”

“Oh,” she palmed her forehead. “I don’t think so. I’m not really the social type.”

His face clouded over. “You don’t have to be. My friends are good people. You just have to be yourself.”

Fat chance of that
. A scene at a dinner table flashed in her head: one of Hank’s friends would ask her what she did for a living and she’d say, “I’m a hit woman. Would you like to have anyone killed?”

Hank filled the silence. “It’s just one evening. I’m not asking for a commitment or anything. Just one date.”

“I see. You know I won’t be in town for long, right?”

Hank was usually a confident man, but his timid smile showed Trixie she had taken a bite out of his self-assurance. “I was hoping to maybe change your mind on that count.”

“Oh, you—”

Just then, there was an outburst from the two old men at the counter. “It absodarnlutely will,” one man screeched.

“You’re not hooked up right, you know that? That miniature dozer will not outpull my tractor. It won’t!”

The men went back to bickering in their normal voices, and Wynona’s attention returned to Hank.

He rubbed his neck as his head swiveled again to her from the men. “Just a normal day at the diner. Those two could argue with a wall.” He raised his eyebrows. “So what do you say to dinner? With Johnny and Martha Maye and Jack and Tess. You met them all last night. We can get together tomorrow night. It will be fun.”

Wynona had an idea but not the one she told to Hank. “I say it will give me an excuse to go buy that dress I just saw.”
And after a fine citizen is murdered this afternoon, the lawmen will be too busy to have any sort of social life. He’ll surely have to cancel the dinner.

Hank beamed. “Great.” His eyebrows drew together, and he asked, “Say, I’m not sure you ever told me . . . What’s your surname?”

She decided to play dumb. “Sir name? Is that like a married name or something? Cause I’m not married.” She twirled a lock of hair around her index finger.

“No. No, ma’am. I mean your last name. What’s your last name?”

“Oh! Cochran. It’s Cochran.”

“That’s a pretty name, Trixie Cochran. How about I pick you up at seven o’clock?”

“Sounds like a plan, Officer.” She gave him a shy smile.

Hank pushed out of the booth then shifted back in. “Uh . . . where exactly am I picking you up?”