When Bobbie Sang the Blues (7 page)

It was a hot September day, and Christy could see the perspiration on Roseann’s face and arms. “How long have you been walking?” she asked.

“For an hour or so. First, I went to the service station back there to see if Eddie had stopped for gas. The man said he hadn’t. Since then, I’ve just been walking around, looking and asking.”

Christy nodded. “No one has seen his white truck parked anywhere?”

“No. But I guess white is a pretty common color for a truck.”

Christy pulled away from the curb. Traffic was light and slow since it was a weekday, and the tourist season had slacked off after Labor Day. “Are you from Memphis?” Christy asked, trying to divert Roseann’s worried thoughts.

“From Forest, Mississippi, which isn’t far from Memphis. I was
born and raised in Forest. Then Momma and I moved to West Memphis when I was in high school. I met Eddie in West Memphis about six months ago. I was working a day job as a waitress in a restaurant that happened to be a favorite of his.”

“You were working a day job? Are you in school to learn another trade?”

Roseann twisted one of her curls around her finger. “I’m taking some metaphysical courses in the evening.”

“Oh? I don’t know much about that.”

“Do you believe in psychics? Momma’s a psychic.” Christy glanced at her. “Really?”

Roseann nodded. “She told me I’d meet a man, shorter than me, but that it wouldn’t matter. She said he owned his own company and would make me rich. She said we’d fall in love right away.” She sighed. “Two weeks later Eddie walked into the restaurant and stared at me until I went over to wait his table.” Her brown eyes turned to Christy. “Momma was right.”

Roseann lowered her head. “She saw death in the cards, and I refused to listen. She called back this morning, but I wouldn’t answer. I just won’t accept that something like that has happened to Eddie.”

Christy merely nodded. It was hard to see why Roseann, much younger than Eddie, had been attracted to him. But her aunt had once claimed to be in love with the man, so apparently he had charm and could be nice when he wasn’t in a rage.

Christy glanced at her watch. It was three thirty. Where had the day gone? She silently agreed with Roseann. Something was
terribly wrong. Or else Eddie was a complete jerk to leave her stranded this way.

“I’ve been thinking about going to the sheriff,” Roseann said. “Do you know where the police station is?”

“The sheriff’s office is in Panama City, but Deputy Bob Arnold is the authority for Summer Breeze and reports to the sheriff. Folks here have lots of respect for him.” She glanced at Roseann and smiled. “He’s the tallest, broadest man around, so everybody called him Big Bob until this summer, when his boss told him to be more formal with the community. So out of respect now, we try to call him Deputy Arnold, but sometimes I slip up and forget. We’re only a few blocks from the station. Why don’t I take you over and see if he’s in? It wouldn’t hurt to tell him what you’ve told me.”

Roseann agreed, and Christy parked in front of the small concrete building that housed the only official law enforcement office for Summer Breeze. Deputy Arnold’s SUV sat in the driveway.

“Come on,” Christy said to Roseann. “You’re about to meet a man who takes his work very seriously. If Eddie is missing, Deputy Arnold will do his best to find him.”

Roseann smiled for the first time, her red lipstick slightly smeared under the corner of her lip. “I sure hope so.”

Deputy Bob Arnold was seated behind his large, cluttered desk when they entered, but upon seeing them, he rose to his feet.

“Good morning, Christy.” His eyes moved to Roseann, and she stared back in wide-eyed amazement.

Deputy Arnold stood six-five with a broad body and a face to fit. Beneath a thick crop of silver hair, the face was big and round
with a large nose that flared on the end and a wide mouth with lips that could close so tightly they looked zipped. His eyes were clear gray, and their expression brooked no nonsense.

“Deputy Arnold, this is Roseann Cole,” Christy said. Roseann quickly stepped forward to shake his hand and mumble a “pleased to meet you.”

Christy gave him the rundown of what had taken place, leaving nothing out, including the argument with Bobbie the night before.
I might as well tell him, so he’ll know I’m not holding back.

“What makes you think he’s missing?” Deputy Arnold asked, looking doubtfully at Roseann.

She twisted the strap on her gold handbag. “After he got in that argument with Bobbie, and then when those guys—”

“What guys?” He frowned at her.

She glanced from Deputy Arnold to Christy and back.

“Dan and Jack were there and asked him to leave,” Christy supplied.

“I imagine if Jack Watson was in on it, he did more than ask him to leave,” the big deputy shot back.

Roseann dropped her head, nodding. “He did. He threatened to kill him if he didn’t stay away from Bobbie. But I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that,” she added quickly.

Deputy Arnold’s gaze shifted to Christy as a frown gathered on his thick forehead. He raked a big hand through his silver hair. “And what about Dan Brockman? What did he say to him?”

“Well,” Roseann continued, “he walked us out, and he told Eddie he wanted to see the taillights of his truck leaving town. He
was pretty angry too, so that’s why I don’t think Eddie would have gone back over there or approached either one of them again. Unless he ran into them somewhere when he left the motel,” she added meekly. “He’d been drinking, and he does things he wouldn’t normally do when he’s drunk.”

Deputy Arnold nodded, looking Roseann over carefully as he spoke. “Tell me again about that argument. I’ve heard Christy’s version, so let’s hear yours.”

Roseann hesitated, looking at Christy. “Well, Eddie believed Bobbie had stolen ten thousand dollars in cash from him.”

“Ten thousand dollars?” Christy gasped.

“And where did this guy get that much cash?” Deputy Arnold boomed.

Roseann sank deeper into the chair, lack of sleep showing in her face now. “He gambles. He won big on some football games, and when the bookie paid him, he put the money in a Ziploc bag and hid it. I don’t know where, but he claimed Bobbie ran off with the vacuum cleaner, so I reckon the money was hidden there.”

Deputy Arnold leaned forward, his gray eyes filled with questions. “A vacuum cleaner?”

“Bobbie says Eddie once hid money in the bag of the vacuum cleaner,” Christy said, “and I guess he thought no one would look there.”

“Bobbie seems to know a lot about his hiding places,” Bob said, looking at Christy with his piercing stare.

“Well, she was married to him for several years, Deputy
Arnold. I guess a wife knows these things.” Christy knew her tone sounded defensive, but she could see that he was already forming conclusions based on Bobbies actions.

“And where is this vacuum cleaner now?” He looked from Christy to Roseann.

“In a storage unit back in Memphis with Bobbies furniture and the items for her shop,” Christy answered.

“But Bobbie is here, so that doesn’t mean the money is still in this vacuum cleaner bag.” He wagged his silver head. “Never heard of a hiding place like that, and I thought I’d heard everything.”

Christy’s mouth felt dry, and her heart began to hammer. “Deputy Arnold, I don’t think my aunt knows anything about this. She went to the house to pick up some pictures and the vacuum cleaner and loaded both on the moving van. She thought Eddie was flat broke, or he was when she left, so I don’t think she’d be rummaging around in the vacuum cleaner bag when she had a hundred other things on her mind.”

“There’s something else,” Roseann said, leaning forward in her chair. “Bobbie was right about him being broke—until last week, that is, when he won on the football games. Anyway, he’d promised to pay off a couple of bookies with the ten thousand. They’ve threatened him, and for all I know, they could have followed us here. I’ve been worrying that maybe they caught up with him…” Her eyes filled with tears, and she lowered her head and began winding the straps of her shoulder bag around her fingers.

“Now, that makes more sense to me than anything else you
gals have told me,” Deputy Arnold said. He folded his broad arms across a pile of papers. “Have you seen anyone following you? Did he say at any time that someone might be watching you two?”

She looked up, staring over Deputy Arnold’s head, as though reflecting back over the past days. “He never said anything, but he got real jumpy when we got here. He kept looking in the rearview mirror.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m not very observant.

“Oh, one other thing. I forgot to tell you this,” she said to Christy. “After we left the Blues Club and stopped at that bar, he kept looking across the room. It was dark and I couldn’t see what he was staring at, but then he suddenly got anxious to leave. I just thought he was jumpy about what Mr. Watson had said to him, but since then I’ve thought maybe he spotted one of those bookies who was after him.”

Deputy Arnold pursed his lips. “If that was the case, I’d be in that motel room with the door locked and no inclination to be going out. If you had the water running in the shower, is it possible someone could have knocked on the door and you didn’t hear?”

“Oh, yeah,” Roseann said, nodding. “I had the shower going full blast, and though I can’t sing like Bobbie, I like to sing in the shower. Country songs. Sometimes I get a little loud.”

As Christy watched and listened, she began to understand how easily Eddie could have fooled Roseann about many things. She was obviously devoted to him, and Bobbie had always claimed that Eddie liked to be with people who made him feel important. Roseann fit the bill.

Deputy Arnold picked up a notebook. “Give me times, here. What time did you leave the club, go to the bar, and get back to the motel?”

“We left the club sometime after ten, I think. Eddie wanted to stop off at that Last Chance Bar near the motel. I guess we stayed about an hour. I’m not sure what time we got back to the motel. He flopped down in a chair to watch TV, and I went to take a shower.”

“And what time did you come out of the shower and find him gone?”

She frowned. “I remember that part. I looked at the clock. It was eleven thirty.”

“Describe him to me. And the truck.” He scribbled as Roseann gave him the details. Then he stood. “Tell you what. You go back to the Starlight and wait in case he tries to contact you, or in the event that he returns. I’ll cruise around town, check out a few areas, and give you a call tonight.”

Roseann nodded. “Thank you.”

Christy stood, knowing their conversation had concluded. Roseann looked from Deputy Arnold to Christy, finally caught on and stood up, hooking her shoulder bag over her arm.

“Thank you, sir,” she said again, turning to follow Christy out of the building and back to the car. “He seems like a nice man,” she said as she got in on the passenger side.

“He has a loud bark and a soft bite,” Christy laughed, remembering how he had scolded her for interfering in his investigation of Marty McAllister’s death. But in the end, when Christy uncovered
a clue that had been overlooked, leading her to the killer, Deputy Arnold had hurried to the hospital to see her. To her surprise, he had been emotional and apologetic. “He’s a very competent deputy,” Christy added, wanting to leave that thought with Roseann.

“I hope he can find Eddie,” Roseann said, her mind obviously locked on the mystery of his disappearance.

Christy pulled into the Starlight Motel, and Roseann directed her to the room where they were staying. Both women searched the parking lot for Eddie’s truck, but it had not reappeared.

Roseann turned to Christy. “I sure appreciate all you’ve done.”

“You’re welcome. Do you still have my phone number?”

Roseann nodded. “On the bedside table.”

“Then call if you need anything.”

“I will. And tell Miss Bobbie if she hears from Eddie to please tell him to call me.”

Christy shook her head. “I don’t think she’ll be hearing from him, but I’ll tell her to call if she does.”

“Thanks, Christy.” Roseann stared at her for a moment, her brown eyes changing. Christy thought of two brown marbles, cold and hard.

Christy felt a chill, wondering what Roseann was thinking as she slammed the door and sprinted to her room.
She suspects that Jack, or even Bobbie, may have something to do with his disappearance
, she thought. As she drove to the market, she kept an eye out for Eddie and his white truck.

That evening Bobbie and Jack decided to grill out at his place, but when invited, Christy declined. “I have to work on my novel,” she said. “But you two have fun.”

They roared off in Jack’s SUV, Bobbie sitting close beside him.

Christy went back inside, smiling to herself. They looked like two teenagers falling in love for the first time. She hoped things worked out for them.

Wednesday

C
hristy didn’t hear her alarm for several minutes, and as she fumbled toward consciousness, she realized she’d never heard Bobbie come home either. She rolled over on the pillow, stretched, and eyed the clock. Three minutes after nine. The aroma of coffee drifted from the kitchen, and she tossed back the covers and headed to the bathroom to freshen up.

When she reached the kitchen, she found a note on the eating bar. “Gone to the hardware store to get more supplies. And Donna wants to know when I can sing again.”

“Good,” Christy said, pouring herself a cup of coffee. She had been worried about the scene in the club Monday night. Bobbie had a wonderful voice, and it would be a shame for Eddie to ruin her chance to sing. Christy poured cream and stirred her coffee, thinking about Donna. Her invitation to Bobbie to sing again proved she wasn’t ruled by gossip or speculation. Anyone who witnessed the scene should realize Eddie was nuts. At least, he seemed that way to Christy.

Glancing at the phone, she fought the urge to call Roseann and find out if Eddie had returned to the motel. Maybe she’d just drive by later.

She walked out onto the sun porch to enjoy her coffee. Bobbie had spread newspapers across the floor and left her painted post there to dry. Christy admired the glossy purple post with its new red base.
Amazing
, she thought.

A little red truck roared into the driveway, and Christy watched her aunt hop out like a sixteen-year-old. A brown sack bulged in her small arms.

“Good morning,” Bobbie called, her blond curls bobbing as she hurried up the walk.

“Morning,” Christy called back, walking over to open the screen door for her. Beaded earrings dangled from Bobbie’s ears, a turquoise circle that matched the beads on her T-shirt. She wore crisp white jeans and a pair of wedge sandals.

“Like your outfit,” Christy said.

“I’ve always loved clothes.” Bobbie sidestepped the post to enter the kitchen and deposit her load on the counter. “The corbels I bought yesterday didn’t fit…” She paused, noting Christy’s confusion. “I have to insert little racks if it’s going to be a coatrack,” she explained.

Christy smiled. “You and Jack must have had fun last night. You look radiant this morning.”

Bobbie clasped her hands and looked at Christy with an expression of joy. “He’s a wonderful man. We grilled steaks, and I whipped up some of my creamy mashed potatoes. We baked
peanut butter cookies at midnight.” She laughed and turned to unload her purchases.

Christy’s eyes swept her aunt’s diminutive frame. “Well, I guess you’re just one of those lucky people who can eat anything she wants and never pack on a pound.”

Bobbie didn’t seem to hear her. A frown had appeared on her forehead, and she turned back to Christy. “Eddie’s truck wasn’t at the motel when I passed it this morning. Maybe he came back and they left. I hope I’ve seen him for the last time.”

Christy breathed a deep sigh. Maybe everything had turned out okay after all. “I hope you’re right. Well, I have to get dressed and make a dash into town to get office supplies. I ran out of computer paper last night, and my printer needs a new ink cartridge. Can I get you anything?”

“One more chance,” Bobbie said, her eyes hopeful.

“Excuse me?”

“One more chance at happiness. At love. Oh Christy, it feels like it’s possible now.”

Christy reached out and patted her arm. “Yes, I believe it is.”

Later in the morning, as Christy stood in line to pay for her purchases, she thought about Bobbie and Jack and Dan. And Seth. After a terrible scare, everything seemed to be slipping back to normal in everyone’s lives. The cashier totaled her purchases, and she slid her credit card through the machine.

As the machine processed her card and the store clerk handed her the receipt, Christy remembered the day she had rushed in and bought a shredder while fighting tears. It had been her way of dealing with rejection slips before she found the right publisher.

“Have a good day,” the clerk said to her.

“You too.” Christy smiled and walked out into a lovely September morning.

As she drove down Main Street, humming with the radio, she glanced at the sidewalk fronting the shops, then did a double take. Roseann Cole, wearing tight jeans and a purple T-shirt, stood at the corner, waiting to cross the street.

The light turned red, and Christy braked, sticking her head out the window. “Roseann! Since I hadn’t heard from you, I thought you’d left town.”

She shook her head. “No. Eddie hasn’t come back.”

Roseann waved and crossed the street, and Christy stared after her, trying to absorb the fact that Eddie had abandoned Roseann. Or that he had truly gone missing.

A horn beeped behind her, and Christy realized she was holding up traffic. She accelerated, her thoughts jumbled. She fought an impulse to stop by the deputy’s office to see what he really thought. Maybe Jack was right. Maybe Eddie had run out on Roseann.

When she turned into her driveway, Bobbie came dashing from the backyard. “Deputy Arnold called here asking about Eddie again. He said they found his truck parked on a side street near the Blues Club.”

Christy stared at her. “Oh no.”

Bobbie followed her into the house, frowning. “That scares me. I’m afraid the bookies caught up with him. Right before I walked out for good, he got a threatening phone call. When he hung up, he said he had to pay a debt fast or they were gonna beat the—” She broke off, rephrasing her thought. “He put a lien on his mother’s house and paid them off, but I haven’t forgotten how scared he looked.”

Christy sighed. “Well, I just saw Roseann Cole. She told me Eddie hasn’t come back.”

Bobbie sank into a chair. She had put an apron over her clothes to catch a few red streaks. A tiny dab of paint sat on the end of her nose.

“Hey, it’s twelve thirty, and we haven’t eaten lunch,” Christy said, thinking they needed a change of subject.

Bobbie blinked and her expression brightened. “I forgot to tell you. Last night Jack cooked an extra rib eye for you, and I brought it home with some potatoes. All you have to do is warm it up. I already made myself a sandwich. Good thing I did.” She sighed. “I think I just lost my appetite for a while.”

“Try not to worry,” Christy said. “Just get back to your project, and we’ll stay busy with our work. If anything happens, I’m sure we’ll hear about it.”

Bobbie nodded, saying nothing. She sauntered out the door to the sun porch to study the purple post.

Christy reached into the fridge and pulled out a plate wrapped in aluminum foil. When she uncovered her lunch, she swallowed,
thinking her appetite had not been affected. She settled down to her food and a glass of iced tea.

Later, as she washed dishes, the steak seemed to swell in her stomach as her mind replayed the tape of Eddie, Roseann, and the scene in the Blues Club. Eddie’s raging accusations against Bobbie, Jack’s bold threats, and Dan’s anger cast a dark cloud over them.

Christy looked through her kitchen window to the backyard, studying her aunt as she measured the post, which now was looking more like a coatrack.

Bobbie was such a tiny woman, scarcely five feet tall. It amazed Christy to think about all Bobbie had endured in her lifetime. She was singing again—a sad, low wail about a broken heart.
A little woman with a big voice
, Christy thought, wondering how many times Bobbies heart had been broken.

She tried to push morbid thoughts from her mind as she went to her computer and unloaded her supplies. Her writing had always been her escape, but she worked best in solitude. Since she had converted the room into a half office-half guest room for Bobbie, she had given up some solitude. The sofa had become a pullout bed, and she had tucked in a small nightstand and reading lamp.

Still, Bobbie had been gone last night, and now she was in the yard, so Christy had no excuse not to focus on her mystery novel. She forced herself to sit down at the desk and turn on the computer. She reread the chapter she’d written last night and frowned. It needed work. Reaching for her thesaurus, she started thinking about words.

To her amazement, the afternoon passed quietly and productively. When she got up from her desk, stretched, and went out to see what Bobbie had done, she caught her breath.

The splintered old post had been transformed into a glossy purple coatrack with a sturdy red base and gold corbels to hold jackets and caps. Or hats.

“It’s stunning,” Christy said. “The ladies will love it.”

“Oh, I’m not through. Do you have a button box?”

“Me? No, sorry.”

“What about old jewelry you don’t want?”

“Ah, I get it. You’re looking for decorations in keeping with the red hat theme? Something red or purple?”

Bobbie nodded. “Is there a dollar store anywhere near?”

“No, but I have a better idea. Joy McCall, Queen Mother of the Red Hats—that’s their term for leader—just returned from a Red Hat Society convention, and she must have brought back a hundred miniature red hats that flash when you fix the button right. She was wearing one last week.”

“Great,” Bobbie said, staring at her handiwork. “Tomorrow when we go to the luncheon, we’ll wrap a couple of garbage bags around the coatrack so we can surprise the ladies.”

“I’ll call Joy now. They’re going to love meeting you tomorrow and hearing you talk about your work and your shop.”

Pleased with their accomplishments, the subject of Eddie Bodine was not mentioned again.