“It’s not my place any more than it’s yours, as you’d do best to remember.” Daisy leaned in closer to Honey and lowered her voice. “I hope you’re respecting his wife’s time of grieving. She doesn’t need to hear how devastatedyouare right now.”
Honey turned up her nose. “I’d never.”
Daisy gave her a short nod and walked away, her heels clicking on the concrete flooring, leaving Cordelia to hurry to catch up to her. As they turned into the next aisle, Daisy clenched her fists and released a low growl. “If I hear one word about Honey bothering Stella right now, I might be tempted to slap some sense into her. That fool woman would fire a missile if she thought she could take credit for a war.”
Cordelia didn’t say anything, just hummed and placed a jar of pickles in the cart. She didn’t bring up her brief history with Honey Stevens. Memories only had as much power as a person was willing to give, and Cordelia wasn’t willing to give Honey a lick. And perhaps Honey had her own problems now. Back in the day, she’d been a nurse at the local hospital and married to a town councilman. She wore a diamond the size of a small boulder. There had been rumors that her ring was a fake and her husband was a conman. Cordelia never set much store in rumors, but she had noticed the absence of the ring and the husband today.
Daisy and Cordelia continued to shop, but it wasn’t until they made it to the baking aisle that Cordelia realized why Daisy wanted to come into town so bad. It wasn’t just because she was itching to socialize, though that was probably part of it; she was also fishing for information. Aside from a few mentions of Porter’s reward and the Abernathys hurting local builders by going into business with an out-of-town real estate developer, almost every conversation revolved around the pastor.
Had Daisy heard about his tragic passing? Did anyone know he was having heart troubles? Or did the intruder scare him so bad his heart stopped? Wasn’t it a shame the church didn’t have cameras? Why did the intruder only take a stapler and a paperweight? How were Stella and Archer holding up? Whose turn was it to bring Stella a casserole? What would happen to her house seeing as it was church-owned?
Not one whisper about the pastor and Daisy or the Chickadee. As far as everyone was concerned, he’d passed away in his office from heart failure during a break-in, where he’d been working late on the coming week’s sermon. Cordelia could hardly dare to believe they got away with moving a body.
Though that feeling of elation appeared to be short-lived. As they were loading groceries into Cordelia’s trunk, the loud clang of metal on metal jarred their attention as a woman ran her cart straight into theirs.
“Pardon me.” The woman with the cart had a short bob of black hair and a mole the size of a nickel on her right temple. She smiled at them with what could only be described as clear malice. “Well now, if it isn’t the local whore and her pimp.”
Cordelia’s blood burned hotter than the hinges of hell. Who was this terrible woman and where did she get the gall? Everyone else managed to be polite. Even outright friendly. She’d almost forgotten where she was and where she’d come from, but she could feel it rising in her now. That shadow of her momma’s poor reputation, daring her to fight fire with fire.
Cordelia gave her the kind of hard-edged stare she generally reserved for book banners and people who left carts in parking spots. “You look lost, honey. Did the circus leave town without you? That’s all right, I’m sure there are a few children’s parties around here that could use a spare clown, bless your heart.”
Now she’d gone and done it. Cordelia hated confrontationwith every fiber of her soul, but it was too late. She’d have to accept the consequences of her irrational outburst. It wasn’t every day her momma’s influence took hold, but it could be ugly when it happened.
Daisy cackled with delight. “Like I said, Miss Penelope didn’t make mistakes.”
The woman before them looked ready to do a murder without reasonable cause, and suddenly Cordelia didn’t feel so bad. “I doubt y’all will be laughing when it comes out that my husband happened to see the pastor’s Cadillac and a car that looks an awful lot like this one leaving the motel last Friday night, right before the church was broken into.”
Cordelia stiffened, but Daisy appeared unfazed. “Why, Edna Abernathy, are you telling me Corbin was at the Chickadee last Friday? What a scandal.” Daisy placed a hand over her chest. “Oh, I do hope for your sake that doesn’t get out.”
“That’s not what I’m saying, and you know it,” Edna hissed. “I think you had something to do with the pastor’s death, and when we prove it, that nasty little establishment of yours will go up on the auction block. So enjoy those laughs while you’ve got them.”
“Okay.” Daisy blew her a kiss. “I’ll be sure to tell Arline that Corbin said hi.”
The blood drained from Edna’s face, though Cordelia was certain Corbin Abernathy wasn’t a regular of Arline’s. But if the headlights Cordelia had seen that night were Corbin’s, they were in big trouble.
Edna rushed away, no doubt on her way to read her husband the riot act. Cordelia might’ve felt bad for her if she hadn’t been so mean.
Daisy shut the trunk and dusted her hands together. “That’ll teach her.”
“You know...” Cordelia glanced at Edna’s retreating back.“We might not want to go around poking bears. I did see headlights that night.”
“Ain’t no one going to believe them.” Daisy tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Everyone knows the Abernathys are as dirty as they come, and they’ll say anything to get their hands on the Chickadee. Don’t pay Edna any mind.”
“Fair enough.” Daisy knew this town better than she did, and if she wasn’t worried, then Cordelia wouldn’t worry either.
They’d just finished putting the eggs, bread, and other fragile foods in the back seat when Archer Reed-Smythe strolled up to them. Cordelia’s pulse kicked up to an erratic beat as his eyes locked on hers and he gave a slow grin.
He chewed on the end of a toothpick, same as the ex-smokers would do outside the church where her momma attended AA meetings. Cordelia released a small, involuntary squeak and his mustache twitched. Trouble. This man was so much trouble. Try as she might, Cordelia couldn’t go on thinking of him as the vile little boy from next door who took pride in how much of the alphabet he could belch.
He tipped his hat. “Ladies.”
Daisy immediately began to fuss over him, such was her way. “You poor dear. Sad news all around. How are you and your momma holding up?”
“As good as we can be.” He crossed his arms, and Cordelia’s treacherous gaze skimmed over the way his shirt tugged against his biceps. “I’ve got to be honest with you, it was a surprise to find him working that night. Didn’t you say earlier that day he had plans to see you?”
Daisy twisted her fingers together and glanced away. “He never showed up. He must’ve changed his mind and gone into work instead.”
Archer raised his brows. “Gone into work on a Friday nightinstead of spending his free evening at the Chickadee with you? Come on, now. I find that hard to believe.”
