“That’s amazing.” Cordelia went as soft as a two-minute egg. Just when she thought she had the chicks figured out, they went and showed her another side.
“I had trouble reading anything outside real basic stuff, until Miss Penelope told me I had to get my GED. Helped me study for it and everything,” Daisy said. “It was the hardest thing I’d ever done, and I don’t want any child in this town having to struggle the way I did.”
Cordelia smiled at her in the rearview mirror. “You’re a gem, Daisy. Rare as hen’s teeth.”
Turning into the near-empty parking lot of the Orb, Cordelia slid into a spot near the door and shut off the engine. Only two motorcycles took up space on the otherwise empty slab of cracked asphalt. The dry scrub grass poking up alongside the plain brown exterior held a fine collection of cigarette butts, broken glass, and a one-eyed babydoll. The very air stank of day drinkers and hopelessness. It reminded her of her childhood home.
“I’m not doing this one alone.” Cordelia took out her sewing kit. “So the two of you need to decide who has the least offensive hair, because I need backup.”
Belinda Sue took the bobby pin Cordelia offered and stuck it between her teeth. “If you give me a minute to get these curls in order, I can go in with you. I’ve got some business I need to clear up with Trent Baker anyway, and if I’m not mistaken, that’s his bike out there.”
“What kind of business?” Cordelia asked.
“Nothing you want to know about,” Belinda Sue said with grim determination.
Belinda Sue and Cordelia slipped on their sunglasses and walked into the Orb, shoulders back, strides in rhythm. They weren’t professional investigators, but they sure did get a kick out of playing the part.
The first thing that smacked Cordelia in the face was the smell. Cheap beer, sweat, and a two-week-old ashtray. The Orb had never been a classy establishment—most people preferred to do their drinking at home or at barn parties—but it looked like it hadn’t seen the soapy side of a rag since the Reagan administration.
Peanut shells littered the concrete floors. A flat square of inlaid wood at the center of the room made up the dance floor, empty now on a weekday afternoon. Two men in leather jacketsshot pool at one of the tables in the back, cigarette smoke hovering around them like burned toast. Belinda Sue didn’t waste any time making a beeline for them. The one with the salt-and-pepper beard and John Deere hat stood up a little straighter as she approached.
Shaking her head, Cordelia took a seat at the bar. Vinner Mendez had owned the Orb for as far back as anyone could remember and had always been right around sixty. No one knew his actual age or how long he’d actually owned the Orb. He was one of those mainstays of Sarsaparilla Falls who didn’t much like change since he never participated in it himself.
His thinning gray hair was pulled back in a ponytail at the base of his neck, and his tongue poked through the hole of his missing front tooth as he smiled. “Miss Cordelia. I heard you were back in town and running the Chickadee to boot. How’s your momma?”
Cordelia stiffened at the mention of Sherilynn. She’d been a regular at the Orb. There had been more than one time when Cordelia had to walk down here in the dead of night and help her home when she’d overindulged, because no one in town was willing to drive ten blocks to drop her off. The memory of it burned like bile at the back of her throat.
“She’s fine. On the wagon twenty years now.” Cordelia pretended to look at the drink menu on the chalkboard so she wouldn’t have to answer any more questions about her momma.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your fine company this afternoon?” Vinner asked.
“Belinda Sue said she had some business to handle.” Cordelia glanced at Belinda Sue, who had the man she assumed to be Trent Baker on his knees, holding a cube of chalk dust between his teeth as she rubbed the tip of her cue into it. “Seems like she might be a while.”
“Can I get you a drink?” Vinner rested his meaty forearm on the bar. “On the house, for all those nights you had to walk your momma home.”
Her expression turned frosty, like the furnace blew out behind her eyes, but she didn’t need to remind Vinner he was just as guilty for what she had to endure as a child as every other adult in town. Those days were dead and gone. She had a new purpose for being here, and once she’d done her duty, she’d never have another reason to step a foot into the Orb.
Cordelia tapped a finger to her lips, then nearly retched when she realized the unwashed bar was the last place she’d touched with her bare hands. Digging out her trusty bottle of hand sanitizer from her purse, she rubbed in a couple of drops while she pretended to contemplate the drink menu. Even though she already knew what she was after.
“Do you happen to have a brand of wine by the name of Dew Valley?” The wine the pastor had been drinking the night he was poisoned. “They have a Cabernet I’m fond of.”
Vinner’s impressively large forehead wrinkled. “We got Boone’s Farm in the back, but I couldn’t tell you how old it is. I don’t get a lot of wine drinkers round these parts.”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll just take a Coors Light.” She paused and glanced at the rack of glasses with dull brown streaks running down the sides. “In a bottle if you got it.”
“Sure thing, Miss Cordelia.” Vinner grinned as he pulled a bottle from the mini fridge. “Anything for the new madam.”
She let the title go without bothering to correct it. It didn’t even make her pause anymore. Cordelia sipped her beer as she watched Belinda Sue force Trent Baker to lick the toe of her stiletto. If he didn’t have an excited glimmer in his eye, Cordelia might’ve thought she was torturing the poor man. But he was every bit the willing participant.
When she’d finished her pool game with Trent’s partner, she took a wad of bills from Trent, stuffed them in her bra, and told him she’d finish with him later. Then she sauntered over and hopped up on the stool next to Cordelia. “Did you find out anything good?”
“Just that Vinner hasn’t heard of any wine outside Boone’s Farm.” Cordelia took a sip of her beer and set it aside without even finishing half. “I haven’t asked about the deacons.”
“We can’t just leave here with nothing. Vinner is a lot smarter than he plays most of the time. He’s gotta have some kind of use.” Belinda Sue lifted her hand and waved the bartender over. “What do you know about the pastor’s death?”
He took his time walking over and stopped in front of them, arms crossed as he leaned against the back counter. “I know they’re saying he was poisoned by arsenic.”
“We heard the same.” Belinda Sue pointed her thumb at Cordelia. “Seems kind of strange though, don’t it? Wouldn’t whoever did it be worried about damnation?”
