“He had files on all the working girls from the Chickadee?” Daisy asked. “Not just us?”
Cordelia nodded. “As far as I could tell, his files went back to the mid-eighties.”
“Ooh, the eighties.” Daisy held her squeezed fists to her lips. “What a time to be a chick. We used to have so much fun back then. Remember?”
Belinda Sue and Arline agreed, both wearing dreamy expressions that took them back forty years. The Chickadee was mostly a subdued place of business now that the last of the remaining chicks mainly catered to the married men of Sarsaparilla Falls, but in its heyday, it seemed, the Chickadee had been a nonstop party. A place where the singles in town could let loose and have a good time, according to their particular preferences.
“Why is Corbin keeping all that information?” Belinda Sue asked. “Especially about girls who no longer work at the Chickadee? What purpose does that serve?”
“I’m not sure, but I took pictures of everything.” Cordelia pulled out her newly recovered phone, which had been confiscated during the arrest. “We should be able to sort through all these and hopefully get a better picture of what he’s got planned.”
She unlocked her phone, but instead of the dozens of photos she’d taken in the warehouse, the last picture on her camera roll was of Arline, tipped sideways on her beach chair, drooling into the pool. Every picture she’d taken inside the warehouse had been deleted.
Chapter Twenty-Three
WHATEVER BUSINESS EDNA AND CORBIN WERE INTO, THE SHERIFF WASin on it. He had to be. How else had Cordelia’s photos been deleted? She double-checked her recently deleted folder and the cloud, but they were all gone. While Cordelia didn’t particularly like the sheriff, she thought he was like any other bumbling local lawman.
But this went to a level much higher than any of them had been anticipating. It was one thing to piss off the Abernathys—practically everyone in town had done so at one point or another. If the sheriff was stepping into the muck though? There had to be greater forces at play.
And all signs were pointing to Sean O’Leary.
As much as Cordelia hated to give Honey the benefit of the doubt on anything, she’d been pretty adamant about the Abernathys’ connection to the shady businessman. That wasn’t the kind of accusation people threw around lightly.
As Cordelia drove them home from the police station after getting her car out of impound, they’d all agreed that a trip to Benedict’s was in order. Cordelia had a hankering for pancakes and trouble that could not be ignored. Maybe she’d even get a glass of Dew Valley to celebrate their near escape from serious consequences of breaking the law.
After they slept off the dregs of their action-packed evening,they woke up early to get a jump on the morning traffic. Despite being questionably owned, Benedict’s was an extremely popular breakfast restaurant. Pickup trucks lined the lot, with overflow parking along the side streets. Cordelia hadn’t seen bumper-to-bumper traffic like that since the last county fair.
She hoped the food was just that good, but it more than likely had to do with the fact that a person could get good and drunk at ten in the morning at an otherwise dry time of day. If growing up with her momma had taught Cordelia nothing else, it was that the best cure for a hangover appeared to be a lot more alcohol.
“I don’t see why I had to go fancy for this.” Daisy pulled the leopard-print caftan away from her skin like the sheer amount of fabric offended her. “It ain’t church.”
“Because it’s a classy joint and we’re damn well going to look like we fit in,” Belinda Sue said. She wore a floral caftan, another item borrowed from Arline.
One of these days Cordelia would have to take them shopping for proper dresses. Walking around in what amounted to colorful nightgowns didn’t exactly scream classy either, but it beat the hot pants and leather. Cordelia opted for a plum pantsuit, which went well with her coloring, but in hindsight probably looked like she was just missing her feathered fedora and chinchilla stole, so who was she to speak on class?
On the way to Benedict’s, Daisy leaned forward and stuck her head between the driver’s side and front passenger seats. “Here’s what I don’t get, and I turned this over in my mind all night. Why didn’t Edna press charges?”
No one had a clear answer for that, though it weighed heavily on Cordelia’s mind as well. Arline said it was because she didn’t want to be pressured about why they broke into their compound in the first place, but that didn’t ring true. Especially now that they knew the sheriff was in on their dealings. It couldn’t havebeen to save face either, since the Abernathys had been warring with half the town for as far back as their name graced the oldest tombs in the cemetery, so what was Edna up to? She didn’t make moves like that without cause.
They found a spot just after seven. To their dismay, it hadn’t been in the packed parking lot, so they had to do some walking, to which Arline made several pointed complaints. Daisy’s hair began to wilt as the high morning sun burned the dew off the scrub grass, and she patted the styled bouffant with nervous hands.
She didn’t need to worry though. Benedict’s was three towns over, and Sarsaparilla Falls had the Eagle Cafe for locals, so it was unlikely anyone they knew would be present, but it still felt as if a spotlight was on them. Of course, they tended to draw attention no matter where they went, but Cordelia couldn’t help but remain on high alert as they crossed into enemy territory.
Daisy smoothed down the front of her caftan. “This feels worse than when we walked into church. At least then we knew everyone was going to be staring at us.”
So it wasn’t just Cordelia’s so-called paranoia at play. Daisy was feeling an abnormal number of eyes on them, too, and she had an impeccable sense of perception, which made Cordelia feel infinitely better. Archer’s comment had wormed its way into her head, and she didn’t care to feel as if he’d one-upped her in any way.
Cordelia took Daisy’s hands to stop her fidgeting. “You look fine. And we belong here, same as anyone else who wants a shot of whiskey with their eggs.”
Normally, they wouldn’t have much cared if anyone thought they belonged or not. The chicks had always been their own women who did as they pleased. But their reason for coming to this place had a little more meaning than snubbing their nosesat the traditionalists. It would be better for all involved if they didn’t stick out so much.
“What’s the plan here?” Belinda Sue asked. “Like, theoretically, I know why we’re here, but what is it we’re hoping to get done today?”
“For now, we’re just observing,” Cordelia said. “Take note of the staff. See if they defer to anyone in particular. See if there are any men in expensive suits who look like they’re commanding the room.”
Cordelia thought it would be best to start with just getting a face to go with the name Sean O’Leary, so they would be aware if he approached any of them. If she had to put money on it, she’d bet Sean was the man she’d seen Edna talking to outside the library. But she didn’t want to leave something that important to a gut instinct, and Google had been most unhelpful. He appeared to keep a low profile. He wasn’t even listed as the owner of the restaurants Honey had mentioned. Both of them were owned by different companies, which were also owned by other companies, screaming red flags in Cordelia’s mind.
Inside, they put their name in with the hostess and took a seat in the overflowing waiting area after Arline shamed a group of younger women into giving up their bench. Cordelia took a moment to make note of the décor, gaudy in a new money sort of way. Gold trim around everything, indoor waterfall, abstract art on the brick walls. Not enough exits.
