“I don’t understand,” Augusta said. “Ashley Wilkes killed Rhett Butler? That’s just wrong.”
“They weren’t really Ashley and Rhett, Augusta,” Amelia said. “They were just actors.”
“I know that! You don’t have to act like I’m an idiot or something.”
“Well, I don’t see why you don’t understand. Aunt Delilah explained everything perfectly clearly.”
I was glad Amelia thought everything was perfectly clear. I was so tired, I wasn’t really sure of anything anymore, plus I had a little headache, probably from getting punched.
But at least this time it actually was over. With Mr. Cobb at the wheel, the bus full of my clients had pulled out of the plantation driveway past all the TV news trucks and the reporters clamoring for exclusive statements. The trip back to Atlanta had gone off without a hitch and everybody was back where they were supposed to be, including the girls and Luke and me. I sat in my office along with Melissa. She had wanted to know everything that had happened, of course, so I had just gone through all of it again.
Now she shook her head and said, “I was so worried when I heard that there was some sort of trouble at the plantation. I couldn’t reach any of you on your cell phones, and I didn’t know what was going on. I started to drive out there, but then I thought you might need me to hold down the fort here this morning.”
“You did exactly the right thing,” I told her. “There was nothing you could have done to help, anyway.”
“I dunno, Miz D,” Luke said. “We could’ve used a hand with all our detective work.”
Augusta laughed. “‘Our’ detective work? I don’t remember you doing anything to help Aunt Delilah solve the murders, Luke.”
“Well…I would have. I sure wouldn’t have let her go out there into that garden by herself and nearly get killed.”
That comment sobered the place up real quick. Now that it was all over, it was easy to get caught up in the solution to the mystery and forget about how close I had come to dying.
Easy for the rest of them, maybe, I should say. I wasn’t sure I’d ever forget what it had felt like to lie there on the ground and watch Perry Newton get ready to kill me.
But it was over and done with now, and I said, “Here’s something you can do for me, Luke. You and Melissa take the girls back to my house, okay?”
“Sure. What are you gonna do, Miz D?”
“I thought I’d just sit here for a while. You know, decompress.” As exhausted as I was, I still wasn’t sure I could sleep.
“Are you sure you’ll be all right, Mom?” Melissa asked. “You’ve been through a lot, and you’re not as young as you used to be.”
“I’m not as old as I’m gonna be, either,” I said, flaring up a little. “Now go on, all of you. Git, and let me have a little peace and quiet for a change. Just turn on the answerin’ machine on your way out.”
They all stood up to leave. Augusta said, “I still want to talk to you sometime about getting my belly button pierced, Aunt Delilah.”
“Augusta!” Amelia, Melissa, and Luke all said at once.
Finally, they were gone and I was alone with my thoughts. I was still worried about what this mess was going to do to the reputation of my business, not to mention the possibility of lawsuits and things like that, but I would deal with all that when the time came. I pushed all of that out of my mind and tried to think about the future instead. My hand stole into the pocket of my blazer and found the card Will Burke had given me.
If I was still in the business of setting up literary-oriented tours when all the hoopla from this one blew over, I would definitely need to call Will and get his advice. I was already thinking about other Southern authors. There were plenty of ’em: Tennessee Williams, William Faulkner, Harper Lee, Truman Capote, even old Mark Twain himself. We just might be on to something here, I thought.
I went to sleep right there in my office chair, with Will Burke’s card still in my hand and a smile on my face.