Written there in ink near seven months old was a name they all recognized. Mr. James Reed-Smythe. The pastor himself.
Chapter Thirteen
“I’M GOING INTO TOWN.”CORDELIA LEANED AGAINST THE POOL FENCE. The chicks were drinking mint juleps, which were really just shots of bourbon with a few sprigs of mint from Arline’s windowsill herbs. The smell of it reminded her too much of her childhood. “Do any of y’all need anything?”
“Yeah. You can find us some men,” Arline said.
Daisy sipped on her drink. “All three of our clients canceled tonight. Weird, right?”
A small smile played on Cordelia’s lips. “Is that why y’all are drinking gin?”
“Might as well make the best of a bad situation.” Belinda Sue held up her glass in a mock toast, already wobbling a bit in her beach chair.
“Y’all have fun.” Cordelia shook her finger at them. “And try to stay out of trouble.”
Over the last week, their investigation had ground to a halt. Ever since they found the pastor’s name in Val’s guest book. They combed through every page, and the pastor was the only one who’d ever bought a single bottle of Dew Valley Cabernet. The name next to the sale only appeared once as well, which led them to believe whoever had sold him the bottle had been new, done so on accident, and had been let go as a result.
Daisy swore up and down he said it had been a gift. He hadbought it a long time ago and didn’t know single bottles weren’t for sale. It was possible he’d gifted it to someone, who then gifted it back to him unaware. But even in that far-fetched scenario, they had no way of knowing who’d been in possession of the bottle when it had been drugged with palytoxin.
Cordelia couldn’t leave when things were still so up in the air, but if she didn’t come up with a plausible suspect within the week, she could kiss her life in Dallas goodbye. She could only be away for so long before her boss would have no choice but to replace her.
Cordelia pulled into town and slowed her car down to thirty-five, a respectable five miles over the speed limit. As she passed the Orb and the dollar store, she could’ve sworn people on the sidewalks stopped their business to watch her drive by. Strange.
Goose bumps prickled the back of her neck as she turned onto Park Street, and this time her imagination wasn’t playing tricks on her. People stopped walking their dogs or pushing their kids on the swings so they could stare her down. Was she going too fast? She eased her foot off the gas and brought her car down to the posted limit.
Just as she was about to turn on the street that would be a straight shot across town to the H-E-B, the sheriff pulled out from a side street. This definitely wasn’t normal. The inside of her car suddenly felt hotter than blue blazes, and she fiddled with the air conditioner, to no avail. Sweat beaded Cordelia’s brow as she kept a real close eye on her speed, not wanting to give him a reason to pull her over. This would be fine. She wasn’t doing anything wrong.
But she didn’t make it more than another block before the sheriff flicked on his lights. The inside of her mouth felt as if it had been swabbed with rubbing alcohol. She tried to swallow,but her tongue felt swollen and heavy. She made it a point to keep her record cleaner than her apartment and had no experience in dealing with the law.
The sheriff approached, a swagger in his step as he twirled a keychain branded withO’LEARY DEVELOPMENT. She rolled down her window to greet him. “Good afternoon, Sheriff Maynard. I don’t think we’ve seen each other since I was knee-high to a grasshopper.”
Back when the sheriff was a deputy, he’d stuck her momma in the drunk tank more than once. The first time it happened, Cordelia had dug up the mason jar in the backyard and taken the crumpled bills down to the courthouse to get her released. He thought it was the funniest thing. After giving her an honorary plastic sheriff’s badge and a sucker, he told her to sit tight in his office while he went and collected her momma.
He wasn’t laughing now though.
Sheriff Maynard leaned into her window, the scent of cheese and cheap aftershave wafting off him like stink on a beetle. “Real interesting story in the paper this morning.”
Cordelia’s pulse pounded in her throat, making it hard to breathe, but she schooled her features to remain neutral. “I’m afraid I haven’t had a chance to read the paper today.”
“Edna Abernathy gave an interview about some of the strange things she’s witnessed in recent weeks when checking on her husband’s property in the dead of night.” His grin sent a shudder of panic racing down her spine. “Like you and the other ladies at the Chickadee driving the pastor’s car off the property the night he was poisoned.”
Cordelia’s blood burned hot enough to fry pork crackling. Edna had no idea who she was messing with. Cordelia wasn’t the socially awkward daughter of the town drunk anymore, and shewasn’t about to be bullied by the likes of that woman. “I didn’t realize it was the sheriff’s job to pull people over for unsubstantiated rumors.”
“We’re investigating a murder here. We’ll look into all leads, unsubstantiated or not.” He straightened and knocked his fist against the roof of her car. “I’ll be by the Chickadee tomorrow to have a chat with Daisy.”
“You do that,” Cordelia said. “Then you’ll see we’ve got nothing to hide.”
“I certainly hope that’s the case. The Chickadee may be an institution in this town, but there ain’t nothing more important than the church.” The sheriff walked back to his car whistling Reba’s “The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia.”
“We’re in Texas, fool,” Cordelia muttered under her breath as she drove off and pulled into the H-E-B parking lot.
She took a few moments to steady herself before getting out of the car and grabbing a cart like all eyes weren’t on her. Walking calm as could be into the grocery store, she held her head high and her eyes straight ahead. Let them talk. It’s not like she’d never weathered the storm of town gossip before. It would only be a matter of time before someone slept with someone else’s wife or someone put ground turkey in a potluck chili and a whole new controversy would start. She just had to survive this week.
Most people shopped by aisle, but Cordelia preferred to do her shopping by size and weight of the items on her list. Heavier stuff at the front of her cart and lighter in back. That usually meant a whole lot of backtracking and going up and down aisles several times, but she’d never once had a cracked carton of eggs.
That was how she’d ended up running her cart smack-dab into the she-devil herself, Edna Abernathy, in the baking aisle. Cordelia thought about plowing into her again for good measure. Especially when Edna gave her that little smirk, like she’d pulledout in front of Cordelia on purpose. Cordelia had never met someone she hated on sight. Until now.
“If it isn’t the madam of the Arsenic and Old Lace motel.” Edna’s mole stretched across her temple as Edna smiled at Cordelia like they were old school friends chewing the fat. “I would’ve thought you’d be too ashamed to show your face in town after what y’all did to the pastor.”
