| |
Mercy’s strained smile slipped when Norene held up another trashy dress and asked, “How about this one?”
“That’s a little lowcut”—she did a doubletake at the length—“and high cut for me.”
Norene flipped the dress over her shoulder and dug further into her closet.
“Listen, I appreciate the T-shirt and shorts you let me borrow last night, but there’s no need to find me a dress for the service this afternoon. Gertie’s taking me shopping.” Mercy crossed her fingers and hoped Gertie was up to a fast trip to Chalk Lake.
“Ooh, I forgot about this dress!” Norene ignored Mercy’s statement and tossed a ball of shiny fabric to her.
“Why don’t you wear it and I’ll wear the one you picked?” Mercy’s desperate suggestion accomplished what none of her protests had been able to do—derail Norene’s fashion disaster train.
She quit removing clothes from the closet. “You’d better hurry and change. Don’t worry about Pops. I’ll take care of him while you’re shopping. What time is Gertie picking you up?”
“I’m walking to her place.” Mercy left Norene’s room and hurried to the bathroom to change out of the stretch shorts and oversized T-shirt Norene had lent her for nightwear. She wasn’t thrilled about wearing the same shirt and shorts for two days in a row, but at least they were her own clothes.
“I have my phone if you need me,” she told Norene and Huey when she headed out the door. Just outside she stopped and sent Gertie a text, hoping that she wasn’t busy. The reply was immediate and Mercy smiled when she read it.
I’ll call Ida Belle to get the money she’s holding for you. You might find something special at Angela’s Whisper.
Mercy was a few blocks from Gertie’s house when she heard the Cadillac pull up behind her. She turned and waved, surprised to see Ida Belle in the front passenger seat. “That was fast,” she told Gertie, climbing into the backseat.
“Did you sleep in those clothes?” Ida Belle asked.
“It could be worse,” Mercy replied. “I had to borrow nightclothes from Norene and she’s been trying to find a dress for me to wear to the service this afternoon.” She explained about the stolen bag of clothes and Carter’s subsequent visit. “So I didn’t have a choice—literally.”
“Well, if I’d known that, I’d have brought the clothes you left at my house when you spent the night. I washed them,” Gertie said, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “When we get to Chalk Lake I’ll give you the papers I found in your pocket. I tucked the envelope in my purse.”
Mercy’s brow crinkled as she thought out loud. “Papers?”
Gertie nodded and asked Ida Belle to get them from her bag.
“Thanks a lot,” Ida Belle muttered, digging into the satchel with a sigh. They were near Chalk Lake before she found the envelope. She tossed it over the seat to Mercy and began stuffing Gertie’s purse with the things she had removed.
Meanwhile, Mercy removed the envelope’s contents and her brows rose. “Oh! I forgot Honey gave me these to take care of. Here’s a pickup ticket for her dry cleaning.”
“Well, I guess you can throw those things away,” Gertie said as she pulled into a parking spot at a shopping center.
“Hang onto them,” Ida Belle advised before addressing Gertie. “Why are we at Angela’s Whisper? I don’t think Mercy will find an appropriate outfit to wear to a funeral service here.”
Gertie flapped her hand and got out, signaling them to follow. “After we left Sammy’s, I remembered the purple bag with red lips was part of a recent Angela’s Whisper company promotion and I thought Chantal might be able to tell us if someone from Sinful bought anything during that promo. Besides, Mercy needs underwear and they’re running a sale.”
Ida Belle made a face at Mercy as Gertie sailed through the entrance of the store. She handed Mercy an envelope from her own small bag as they paused outside the front door which was nearly covered with a purple sign advertising a panty sale at 3 for $40 or $15 a pair. “Here’s the money Robert paid you. I hope you don’t blow it on overpriced scraps of polyester and elastic.”
Mercy laughed and held the door open. “Don’t worry—I’ve seen enough of that in Norene’s closet and I’m not even tempted.”
“Good. I’ll have enough trouble keeping Gertie on track.” Inside the front door, Ida Belle looked around and pointed. “See what I mean?”
Mercy covered her smile with her hand because Gertie was already rifling through a rack of frilly peignoir and nightgown sets, holding them against her body. “I’ll browse the clearance section just in case there’s something I can afford,” Mercy said, heading to the back of the store.
“Mercy, don’t forget what I said,” Ida Belle called after her.
The woman behind the cash register snapped her head to attention when she overheard Ida Belle, and she followed Mercy. “Can I help you find anything?”
“Thank you, but no. I’m just browsing while my friend shops,” she said as she read the woman’s nametag. Then she smiled and offered her hand. “You’re Robert’s wife, Chantal? I’m Mercy Hazeldine.”
She nodded and shook Mercy’s hand. “When I heard your friend call your name, I thought you must be the poor woman who had the misfortune of caring for Honey.”
They chatted for a few minutes and then Mercy said, “I’m sorry about the texting mix-up. I thought I sent it to my cousin.”
Chantal waved it off. “I’m sorry we thought you tried to blackmail us but Honey had that effect on people. Those in the vicinity of her web either became like her or became her victims.”
“Blackmail?” Ida Belle asked, dragging Gertie to where Mercy and Chantal stood.
Chantal turned and nodded at the women. After a fast glance to make sure no one was within hearing range, she lowered her voice and said, “I once saw a ledger on her kitchen table. Thinking it was her household expenditures, I looked inside to see just how much money she spent since she always griped about it. But it wasn’t an expense account. The journal was filled with names, dates, and what I believe were payments.”
“Payments for what?” Mercy asked.
Chantal shrugged. “I didn’t get more than a quick look before she flew into the kitchen and nearly flattened me in her haste to retrieve it. I expected her to give me a tongue-lashing but she didn’t say a word. She put it behind her back and left the room.”
“That doesn’t sound like Honey,” Mercy commented.
“But blackmail does,” Gertie said. “I wonder if she kept the ledger in her bedroom. It would explain why it was ransacked, and subsequently burned.”
“Possibly. But that happened fifteen years ago, so maybe she started keeping electronic records,” Chantal speculated. “Either way, I’m surprised someone didn’t kill her long before now. Lord knows I’ve been tempted more than a time or two.”
Gertie, Ida Belle, and Mercy shared a glance and Chantal laughed, reading their thoughts. “If I was going to kill that woman, I’d have done so long ago. But she wasn’t worth the prison time.”
“What did Robert say when you told him about Honey’s ledger?” Ida Belle asked.
“I didn’t tell him. But I never saw that book again and Honey never mentioned it.”
Mercy changed the subject. “Deputy LeBlanc told me that Cinnamon died.”
“Now killing that dog is something I’d admit. But I didn’t do it. He was dead when we got up in the morning.” The doorbell jingled as a group of young women entered and Chantal asked to be excused from the conversation. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” After checking with the ladies who wanted to browse, she returned.
“Have you sold anything in the last month to someone from Sinful?” Ida Belle asked.
“Well, Miss Gertie of course. She’s a regular.”
Ida Belle’s eyes rolled. “Everyone in Sinful knows that she’s a frequent flyer—because she hangs her frilly stuff outside every chance she gets.”
Gertie sniffed. “I’m merely following the care labels. Delicates must be hand washed in cold water and line dried. Except for my leather thongs. Those have to be dry cleaned.”
Ida Belle’s jaw dropped in horror and Chantal nodded. “That’s why they’re in the clearance bin. I put them in the adult section, hoping sales would improve. Are you interested?”
“I’ll pass!” Ida Belle’s disgusted expression intensified so Chantal looked hopefully at Mercy.
She scooted to stand next to Ida Belle. “I’m with her.”
“I’ll take a look,” Gertie said, clapping with glee. “I sure hope you still have white with red beads. But I won’t buy another green one. They have a problem with dye transfer.” She turned on her heel.
“Gertie, not now!” Ida Belle said, hooking her hand around Gertie’s elbow to prevent her from leaving. Gertie sighed and Ida Belle continued questioning Chantal. “Who else?”
“Let me think.” Chantal closed one eye. “Celia Arceneaux bought some sale items from back there.” She pointed to an adult-only section, separated from the main part of the store by a six-foot wall.
Ida Belle choked. “Celia? Bought...” Words failed her as she tried imagining what Celia would purchase from the naughty aisle in a racy lingerie store.
Chantal shook her head. “You don’t want to know. All I’m saying is it wasn’t a leather thong. She wouldn’t let me use a purple bag though. I had to use a white sack from the supply closet to pack her things.” She eyed Gertie curiously. “Does Sinful have a senior swingers club?”
“I’ve never heard of one,” Gertie replied.
“I just wondered because senior Sinful ladies are some of my best customers,” she said. “And a few of the men.”
“Oh, really?” Mercy’s eyes narrowed speculatively. “Which men?”
“You didn’t hear this from me, but the Sheriff likes to buy gifts for his wife.”
“How do you know he’s purchasing for Mrs. Lee?” Gertie asked.
“He always buys the same size of clothing.” She grinned and added, “And a new paddle when the old one breaks.”
“Oh, God! Please stop!” Ida Belle’s lip curled in disgust.
Chantal looked thoughtful. “The young man who died in the hit-and-run accident was in here a few weeks ago.” She fanned her face and grimaced. “And there was one guy who reeked of alcohol. I could smell it coming out of his pores and when he handed me his mother’s credit card, I had to call her first to see if she authorized him as a user. The card belonged to Eliza Crawford.”
“That would have been her son, Michael,” Gertie said.
“Yes, that’s him,” Chantal confirmed.
“If you tell me he was buying lingerie for his mother, I’m leaving and never stepping foot in this place again,” Ida Belle threatened.
“I learned it’s wise to never ask who the purchase is for. Let’s see. Patty Harmon bought a bridal shower gift for her future daughter-in-law. It’s a shame that she didn’t buy something from the bride’s wish list. Al Wise has been in a couple times, but his purchases aren’t all the same size if you get my meaning.”
“Al has lots of girlfriends,” Gertie told Mercy.
“I can’t recall anyone else I know from Sinful, but I’ll let you know if that changes,” Chantal promised.
Ida Belle nodded and glanced at her watch. “We have to get moving if we’re going to finish shopping and make it to Trevor’s service on time.”
Chantal accompanied them to the front door. “Come back when you have more time to browse.” She lowered her voice and added, “I can give you an extra twenty percent discount.”
“Ooh, in that case—” Gertie’s eyes lit up and her head swiveled to the rack of nightwear she’d been examining.
“She’ll keep it in mind,” Ida Belle said, settling a firm grip on Gertie’s arm and forcing her outside while Mercy smiled and waved to Chantal as the front door closed behind them.
Gertie pulled her arm away and huffed, “Why didn’t you let me buy that exquisite nightgown? By the time I get back, they might be out of my size.”
Ida Belle urged her toward the car. “It doesn’t matter because there will be a different ‘exquisite’ nightgown hanging in its place.”
Gertie didn’t look convinced, and Ida Belle tilted her head, reminding her, “This is supposed to be Mercy’s shopping trip. If you go back inside, you’ll spend an hour trying to decide which color you want.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Gertie looked shame-faced as they climbed into the car. “Just for being so selfish, I’ll pay for your undergarments when we get to the second-hand store,” she told Mercy.
“That’s not necessary.” Mercy pulled an envelope from her purse and waved it. “I have money, remember?” A slip of paper fluttered out and landed on the dusty floorboard and she bent to retrieve it. “Hmm.” The envelope held Honey’s receipts, not her cash.
“Hmm—what?” Ida Belle looked over her shoulder and took the paper when Mercy passed it to her. After glancing at it, she tapped Gertie’s shoulder. “Quick detour to Wal-Mart. Honey left a roll of film to be developed and it’s ready to be picked up.”
Gertie drove to Wal-Mart and Mercy went to the photo department and paid for the pictures. She didn’t open the envelope but took it back to the car where Ida Belle and Gertie—wearing her glasses—eagerly waited, hunched over the seat to view the pictures Mercy handed them one-by-one.
“Well, well. If there was ever any doubt about Honey blackmailing people, these pictures will put an end to that speculation.” Gertie passed a picture to Ida Belle and asked, “What do you suppose Rachel Slate is doing in town?”
“I think the appropriate question is who is she doing in town?” Ida Belle responded. “Don’t give me that look, Gertie! You know it’s true.”
“Who’s Rachel Slate?” Mercy asked.
Ida Belle snorted. “Rachel’s a local who ‘entertained’ many Sinful men before moving to New Orleans. Her nickname is Rachel Slut.”
Gertie pressed her lips together. “And now she’s back, knocking on”—she examined the photo—“it looks like Cooper Frey’s door.”
“Cooper Frey is an investment broker with a well-connected wife,” Ida Belle explained. “And the time/date stamp on this shot coincides with the trip his wife and children took to visit her sister in St. Louis last week.”
“Uh, oh. How’s this one for motive?” Ida Belle lifted a photo showing a night shot through a bedroom window and the man inside wearing lingerie.
Gertie grabbed it. “That’s the gown I want from Angela’s Whisper!” she exclaimed.
“Forget the gown. Look who’s wearing it,” Ida Belle remarked. “Calvin Carlyle.”
Mercy peered at the photo and recognized the ugly color of siding. “Honey poisoned his cat. It was in her yard, and she made me take it back to him.”
They hurriedly finished checking the photos. Ida Belle and Gertie identified a church deacon holding a girly magazine and a self-proclaimed fitness guru and social influencer stuffing her mouth with cake and ice cream.
On the way to the thrift store, Gertie said, “If Honey took those pictures in her current condition, can you imagine what she found out about people when she could get out and about easily? I bet she’s been taking blackmail photos for years!”
Ida Belle nodded. “It would explain her large bank account. I think the motive for her murder has shifted from Chantal and Robert to one of her victims—possibly a neighbor.”
“I agree,” Mercy said. “Chantal and Robert appear resigned about Honey; not vindictive.”
“Well, Calvin Carlyle writes a sports column for the local shopping gazette and you can bet his reputation would take a dive if Honey made those pictures public,” Gertie said as she parked in front of the second-hand store.
“Cooper Frey works for a Chalk Lake investment firm owned by his father-in-law. Charlotte, his wife, is the one with the money and if she found out about him and Rachel, she’d bury him in a divorce,” Ida Belle said as they walked to the front door. A passerby stopped to eavesdrop and Gertie suggested they table the conversation until they finished shopping. Mercy agreed and opened the door.
Compared to Angela’s Whisper—which looked like the inside of a genie bottle and smelled like lavender—the bargain shop was harsh and gritty. The pungent odor of used wares smacked them in the face when they entered. Gertie pointed to the women’s clothing department as Ida Belle unhooked a shopping cart from the stacked row and wheeled it after them, stopping at the lingerie racks when Gertie held up her hand.
“Here—this is a good deal,” Gertie said, briefly flashing a garment at Mercy before throwing it into the cart.
“What is it?” Mercy asked.
“It’s a bra,” Gertie said. “Don’t worry, you don’t need to try it on. Well, actually, you can’t try on intimate clothing at this store. But the bra’s a one-size-fits-most. Why don’t you leave the undergarments to me and pick out your clothes? It might take you a while to find things you like that fit. You can try regular clothing items on.”
Ida Belle checked her watch and nodded at Mercy. “That’s a good plan. I still have to touch up my hair when we get back.”
“And we want to go early so we can get a good seat,” Gertie added.
Mercy paused. “A good seat at a funeral service?”
“Oh, yes! There’s always a large turnout and if you don’t arrive early, you might have to stand,” Gertie said.
“So get moving because if I have to stand, my bunions will act up,” Ida Belle told her. “And it won’t be pleasant for you—standing right next to me.”
Mercy saluted Ida Belle and headed to the clothing racks to pick out T-shirts, jeans, shorts, a skirt, and a blouse. Footwear wasn’t necessary because she had a pair of sandals and the tennis shoes she’d left at Gertie’s.
The clothing racks were sorted by type and size, but it required work to find the right style and fit. By the time she finished, Gertie had the cart half-filled with her own items. At the checkout lane, Ida Belle commented on Gertie’s purchases. “You bought more than Mercy!”
“I’m very generous with my donations of used clothing,” Gertie replied. “So I have to replenish my wardrobe on a regular basis.”
Ida Belle lifted a baby blue, olive, and tangerine abstract-print blouse. “Didn’t you used to have one like this?”
“Yes, but I don’t know what happened to it. Then I saw this one on the rack, and I just had to buy it! Can you believe it’s the right size?”
“Imagine that.” Ida Belle’s tone made Mercy smile as she put her items on the cash register counter. But Gertie insisted on paying for the bra and underwear that she picked out for Mercy.
“No need to thank me,” she said when Mercy protested.
Ida Belle examined a pair of panties that Gertie set on the counter and muttered, “Expressing gratitude for these would be akin to lying.”
Gertie bristled and snatched them from her hand, tossing them back onto the pile. “There’s nothing wrong with them! I know young women don’t wear granny panties and I wouldn’t buy that style for Mercy. As a matter of fact, I don’t wear grannies either.”
Ida Belle looked over Gertie’s head to address Mercy. “Good! So you won’t have to throw them away when you discover the flaws. Give them to Gertie.”
Mercy inhaled air. “Flaws? Like what?”
“She’s kidding,” Gertie assured her as the cashier quickly scanned garments and stuffed them into plastic bags. “Besides, we don’t wear the same size...I heard that, Ida Belle!”
Ida Belle passed Gertie in the line and handed a large sack to Mercy before taking another for herself. “Gertie, we’ll wait over by the wall. And hurry—my hair will need extra time because of the humidity.”
“But—” It was too late. Ida Belle had moved from the end of the cash register to stand on the other side of the busy aisle leading to the exit.
Gertie waved her hand. “Oh, she’s just being a fusspot! We have plenty of time.” Her attention turned to the cashier so Mercy joined Ida Belle and they waited for Gertie to finish checking out.
“Finally! What took you so long?” Ida Belle demanded when Gertie finally made her way to them with another bag of clothes.
“Well, I couldn’t decide if I wanted that blouse. You know the one that looked like the one I lost?” Gertie walked out with Ida Belle following and Mercy bringing up the rear.
“It was only three dollars! What was the issue?” Ida Belle asked as Gertie breezed through the parking lot toward the Cadillac.
She tossed her bag onto the back seat and then opened the driver’s door. “That’s not the point! I thought maybe the reason I no longer have that blouse is I might have donated it. And if that’s the case, why should I buy it back?”
“Did you get it?” Ida Belle demanded.
“Of course! I realized I might have regrets,” Gertie said, getting behind the wheel.
“I already do,” Ida Belle low-voiced to Mercy before they climbed in.
As Gertie drove to Sinful, Mercy picked through the bags, hoping to find the questionable underwear. It was impossible without removing everything so she asked, “The underpants aren’t one-size-fits-all, are they?
“Oh, no! I stay away from those because they never fit,” Gertie said firmly.
“What about the bra?” Mercy asked, unable to prevent the pitch of her voice from rising.
“There’s a difference between fitting ‘most’ women and fitting ‘all’ women,” Gertie explained.
“Not much,” Ida Belle replied, and Mercy nodded in agreement.
But it was too late to do anything about the matter so she’d make the best of it. At least she had other clothes that she’d picked out. And a lot of money left over, thanks to the cheap thrift-store prices.
Back in Sinful, Gertie parked in Huey’s drive, got out, and located the undergarments, transferring them to Mercy’s shopping bag. “Would you like to walk with us to the service?” she asked, standing by the open driver’s door.
“No, but I appreciate the offer and all you’ve done to help me.” Mercy hugged her tightly. “And thanks for buying my underwear.”
Ida Belle leaned over and cranked her head to look out the door. “You realize how wrong that sounds, don’t you? And you might want to hold your gratitude until you’ve actually worn those—what are you doing?” Ida Belle’s eyes bulged when Mercy released Gertie and grabbed her shoulders for a hug.
“Thank you!” Mercy gushed.
Ida Belle raised her eyes at her affectionate act and then scowled at Gertie smiling at the sight. “Get moving,” Ida Belle said roughly, pushing Mercy away. “I still have to do my hair, and you’ll make me late!”
Mercy grinned and backed up with a wave, grabbed her sack, and ran to the front door.
“Let’s talk about the photos after the service,” Gertie called. Mercy turned and nodded before entering the house.
“Humph! That girl has more hair than sense,” Ida Belle muttered as Gertie got in and put the car in gear with a grin.
“She loves you too,” Gertie said happily.