When Bobbie Sang the Blues (11 page)

Friday

C
hristy stepped out of the shower and dressed in jeans and a pink T-shirt. The house was quiet, and she didn’t know if that meant Bobbie had left or was still asleep. Concern for her aunt still dominated her thoughts, and she tiptoed down the hall and peeped in at Bobbie’s bed.

Bobbie lay huddled beneath the quilt, only the top of her golden curls showing. Christy breathed a sigh of relief and went into the kitchen. She flipped the switch on the coffee maker, then sat at the eating bar and opened her journal.

“Prayer Requests.” She could fill two pages. Instead of writing, she opened her Bible to the verse her Dad had instilled in them as children whenever they were afraid. Turning to Isaiah 41:10, she decided to copy the passage in her journal. This verse had been her lifeline over the years. “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you.” She laid down the pen and read on, stopping on a couple of verses that added power to the first promise. “For I am the L
ORD
,
your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you.”

Christy closed her eyes and began to pray, asking God to help her and all of her family, especially Bobbie.

“Hi.”

Christy jumped, unaccustomed to having someone in the house. Her back was toward Bobbie, so of course her aunt wouldn’t realize she was interrupting anything. Turning on the stool to face Bobbie, she smiled. “Hi.”

Her aunt stood in the doorway in her silk pajamas, her curls tousled. She looked at the open Bible and the journal but said nothing. She crossed the kitchen and opened the cupboard, reaching for a mug.

“Thank you for helping me,” Bobbie said. When she glanced over her shoulder, Christy could see tears filling her huge blue eyes. “I pride myself on being strong, but lately, all I want to do is cry.”

“That’s normal, given what you’ve been through.”

Bobbie poured coffee into her mug. “Ready for yours?”

Christy nodded, handing her Mystery Lady mug to Bobbie to fill.

Bobbie studied the
sassy
lady on the cup. “Cute mug. Where’d you get it?”

“A friend bought it for me after I sold my first mystery novel.” Bobbie nodded. “Very appropriate.”

Christy went to the refrigerator to retrieve a half pint of cream. “Dad and Mom were coming over to see you last night, but Mrs. Hayward, our former organist, died.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Bobbie sipped her coffee, studying Christy over the rim of her mug. “What do Beth and Grant think about…Eddie? And about me?”

“They believe in you, Bobbie.”

The telephone rang, and Christy turned, dreading the day’s barrage of calls. Her parents’ number showed up on the caller ID.

When she answered, her mother’s voice sounded small yet determined. “Hi, honey. How are you?”

“I’m okay. You?”

“Worried. Concerned. I’m so sorry for all that has happened. Poor Bobbie. I wish I could come by your house this morning, but I’ve promised to drive some kids to Camp Honeywood first thing. Before I leave, though, I’d like to speak with Bobbie.”

“Sure, Mom.” She handed the phone to Bobbie, huddled over her coffee. “Mom would like to speak to you.”

Bobbie seemed to shrink deeper into her pajamas. She hesitated a moment, then took the phone. “Hi, Beth,” she said, her voice shaky.

Christy could hear her mother’s voice on the other end, and the tears that earlier had filled Bobbie’s eyes now coursed down her cheeks. Christy handed her a napkin and left the kitchen.

Mug in hand, she returned to her bathroom and looked at her face in the mirror. She looked tired. She applied some lip gloss and smoothed the edges of her long hair. Then she hurried down the hall and out to the sun porch. She had finally reached Dan by phone last night, and he had asked if he could stop by on his way to work.

She took a seat in a wicker chair just as his truck swung into the driveway. Dressed in work clothes, Dan looked neat and handsome, but an expression of worry sat squarely on his face.

“Hi,” he said as he stepped into the sun porch. He leaned down to kiss her.

“Oops.” Christy pulled back and looked down. Her mug had tipped, and coffee ran down her T-shirt.

“I’m sorry,” Dan said.

“No problem. I’m clumsy, as you know.” Christy brushed at the stain. “Would you like coffee?”

“Can’t. We’re running behind on that project at Sunnyside, but I had to see you. How’re you doing?” His warm fingers caressed her arm.

“I’m okay.” She gave him a quick rundown of what had happened yesterday. When she told him about Deputy Arnold showing up at the Red Hat meeting, he shook his head.

“Knowing Deputy Arnold, he didn’t bother to be tactful,” he said.

Christy shook her head in disgust. “In the presence of all the Red Hat ladies, he informed Bobbie that something was ripe in her pickle barrel and, to quote him, ‘It ain’t pickles.’”

“Was he trying to be funny?” Dan asked, anger edging his voice.

She sighed. “No, I think he was just trying to get her out of the party room so he could drive her over to Panama City. She was questioned by a detective—”

“Named Johanson. He stopped by my house right after I got home from work.”

“You didn’t mention that when we talked last night.”

“Figured you had enough to think about. How did Bobbie hold up?”

“I wasn’t in the interrogation room, but she must have kept her cool because they let her go. But they used that worn-out phrase, ‘Don’t leave town.’” She frowned. “Tell me about your experience.”

He crossed his arms and scowled. “Johanson and his men have talked to everyone in town. With every so-called eyewitness, I got rougher with Eddie. The last account has me picking him up and throwing him out the front door.”

“Dan, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I didn’t throw him out, but I felt like it. Johanson kept asking what time I took you home, what time I went home, and didn’t I have any witnesses about the time I arrived home.” He sighed. “I don’t. I had too much on my mind to sleep, so I walked down the hill to the beach. I just sat there, watching the waves roll in. I didn’t see anyone, and I doubt anyone saw me at that hour.”

She placed a hand on his arm. “I wish you hadn’t been dragged into this. You were just trying to help my aunt.”

“Don’t worry about it. Bodine was bullying Bobbie, and I have a problem with bullies. Anyway…I think we should discuss something more pleasant. Like dinner this evening.”

“Dinner would be great.”

“Then why don’t we drive down the beach and find a quiet
place where we can talk? Well have more privacy if we get out of Summer Breeze.”

“Good idea,” she said, smiling into his eyes.

For a moment, neither spoke. She felt love for him swelling in her heart, and from the way he looked at her, she knew he loved her too.

“Seven o’clock?”

She nodded. “I’ll be ready.”

She put the mug down, and he took her in his arms. When they pulled apart, he seemed reluctant to leave. He glanced at his watch.

“Have a good day, Dan,” she said.

“You too. Or rather,
try
to have a good day.”

She watched him jog back to his truck. Then she sighed and touched her lips, thinking about his kiss. When she entered the kitchen, Bobbie was sitting at the eating bar, grinning at her.

“You’d better hang on to him,” she said with a wink.

Christy smiled. “He’s pretty special. Did you and Mom patch things up?”

“Yes. She apologized for what she said. And I apologized to her. She said she’ll come back early from Camp Honeywood to spend time with me.” A glow of happiness had replaced the tears, and for the first time in twenty-four hours, Bobbie had found her smile.

The phone rang again. Christy threw up her hands and grinned at Bobbie as she answered.

“Christy, this is Roseann Cole. I’m trying to make plans for getting Eddie back to Memphis, but they won’t release his body.”

Christy digested that information. “In a murder case like this one, the body will be held until the autopsy is completed.” She sighed. “I’m sorry to say that may take a while. Since he’s from out of state, though, the process may move faster. There’s a lot of pressure to put a rush on this case.”

Christy heard a heavy sniff on the other end of the line. “I wanted you to ask your aunt who I should call,” Roseann said. “Eddie never talked about his family.” She repeated the number of her cell and said she was still staying at the Starlight.

“I’ll find out for you,” Christy said. “Did you have to go down to the station in Panama City for questioning?”

“Yeah. Deputy Arnold took me down there, and I told them everything I know. But I don’t think I was very helpful. They didn’t keep me long, and I reckon they were pretty nice about it.”

Christy wanted to press her about what she’d told them, but she knew that would be inappropriate.

“Another thing,” Roseann continued. “They’re holding Eddie’s truck, going over it for evidence.”

“You said Deputy Arnold found it near the Blues Club?”

“A couple of blocks away or something like that. I guess Eddie went back there after all.”

There was a moment of silence.

“I’ll get back to you with the information you need about Eddie’s relatives,” Christy said.

“Thanks,” Roseann mumbled and hung up.

Bobbie stood at the counter, buttering toast. She looked at Christy with a question in her eyes.

“That was Roseann Cole,” Christy said.

Bobbie laid down the butter knife. “What did she want?”

“She wants to contact Eddies family and thought you would know who to call.”

Bobbie sank down on a stool. “Both of his parents died years ago, but he has a brother in Hendersonville, Tennessee—Mitford Bodine. I only met him a couple of times, but I’d bet anything he still lives there. He wasn’t like Eddie. He was the type who puts down roots, stays in one place. He owned a service station. Bet he still does.”

“Mitford is a very unusual name. He should be easy to locate. Anyone else?”

“No. There were just the two brothers.” All the joy had drained from Bobbie’s face, and Christy thought it was time for a change of subject.

“Okay. I’ll tell Roseann. Hey, are you fixing us breakfast?”

Bobbie stared at the toast. “Sort of.”

“Great. What did Jack have to say last night?”

“He asked me to meet him for lunch today. He insists we keep looking for locations for my shop, but that may be out of the question now.”

Christy gave Bobbie a hug. “No, I think it’s more important than ever that you go on with your plans. In fact, I’ll help you get the shop going once you nail down a location.”

Bobbie came back to life, her eyes filled with hope. “You’ll help?”

“Of course I will. I’m excited about I Saw It First.”

Bobbie looked as though a light had been turned on behind her eyes. “That’s great, honey.”

Christy noticed her Bible had been moved, and she caught Bobbie glancing at a highlighted passage. “That’s my favorite verse,” she said. “I find strength—”

“I don’t mean to sound rude, Christy, but those words just haven’t worked for me.” Bobbie closed the Bible and handed it to her. “Want me to scramble some eggs?”

Christy put the Bible, journal, and pen in their drawer. “No, thanks. I need to dash out and pick up a sympathy card for the Haywards. And maybe I’ll stop by the Starlight and deliver that information to Roseann Cole. She’s stranded,” she added. She watched Bobbie pour more cream into her coffee. Bobbie didn’t comment or show any sympathy for Roseann. A spark of annoyance singed Christy’s good mood, but she resolved not to take Bobbie’s actions personally. She was in a crisis, but Roseann was in a crisis too.

Christy rummaged through a drawer and found a spare key. “Here you go,” she said, laying it on the eating bar. “We need to keep the doors locked.”

Bobbie nodded, munching on her toast. “See you later.”

“Later.” Christy grabbed her shoulder bag and keys from the rack and dashed out the back door. As she started the car and backed out, she wondered what Bobbie thought about her intention to visit Roseann. She just wanted to observe her again and find out if she knew anything that could help clear Bobbie’s name. But did Bobbie see it as a betrayal?

Christy turned into the Starlight Motel and parked in front of
Roseann’s room. She knocked on the door and called, “Roseann, it’s Christy.”

The door opened, and Roseann stood before her, dressed in white capris and a matching shirt. Her dark hair had been styled, and she seemed to have pulled herself together quite well. She stared curiously at Christy.

“I have the information you need about Eddies family,” Christy said, suddenly feeling awkward.

“Just a minute.” Roseann left the door and returned with pen and pad. “Thanks for stopping by, but you could have just called.” She didn’t bother to invite Christy in.

Christy repeated what Bobbie had told her, and Roseann wrote down the brother’s name.

“He did talk about his brother some,” Roseann said, looking up from her notes. “Said they must have had different dads because his brother turned out good. All he ever said about his old man was that they hated each other.”