“Ladies.” River looked up from behind the counter. “Lunching out today?”
Doris glanced at me, and I shrugged. “May as well.” Despite having a kitchen stocked with groceries and a new, functioning oven, we were here now, and the truth was, I was hungry.
We sat at the same table near the window as yesterday. “I don’t think I could ever get tired of this view.” I sighed, cupping my chin in my hand and gazing at the ocean.
“Word is you cut the Women’s meeting before it had finished, Doris?” River laid two menus on the table and waited for Doris’s explanation as to why she’d missed the meeting. Whatever it was. I half-listened, keeping most of my attention on the view.
“Didn’t miss anything important, I bet.” Doris sniffed with disdain. “Ever since Kerris elbowed her way in, she’s run the meetings as an extension of the Council. All to forward her own agenda.”
“I admit I’ve only ever been to one or two in the past, but they were great. Very entertaining,” River replied. “You’re not the first person who’s told me they’ve changed.”
“What is this meeting anyway?” I asked.
“It’s the Women of Gravestone Committee,” Doris said. “We meet every month to discuss how we can help each other and plan any upcoming events.”
“Help each other how?”
“There was one time when Myra hadn’t pooped in a week. Poor girl was fit to burst. She’d tried everything. Everything,” Doris said. “So, we all put our heads together to come up with a solution.”
“I don’t think I want to know what the solution was,” I muttered, and River grinned.
“I remember that,” she said. “Myra ended up in the hospital.”
“What?” I gasped, eyes round. “Now I want to know.”
Doris waved a hand to shush me. “Nonsense. That’s not important. What is important is that Kerris, who never bothered to attend before she was mayor, decided we were to become her committee. Next thing you know, she’s got us on work detail, cleaning the public toilets, litter duty in the park, running fundraisers for her mayoral campaign.”
“Why don’t you kick her out?”
Doris’s eyes narrowed, mired in the memory. “We tried. But it has to go to a vote, majority rules. So, we voted, and she won. So, she stays. And she made herself chairwoman. So, now she sets the rules.”
River looked surprised. “She won the vote?”
Doris folded her arms over her chest. “Yep. I have no doubt she had something over those women who voted for her. She has a way of learning your secrets and using them against you.”
“She doesn’t sound very nice,” I said, perusing the menu. “You should start your own committee.”
Utter silence met my words, and I glanced up to see River and Doris staring at me, astonished. “What?” I protested. “Is there a law in Gravestone that you can only have one women’s committee? If so, don’t call it a committee. Call it a club or a group or anything else, really. Ladies, you have options.” I couldn’t believe they hadn’t thought of this themselves.
River turned to Doris. “You know, we could….”
“We really could,” Doris agreed.
“There’d have to be rules.”
“Of course.”
“A sure-fire way to keep Kerris out.”
“That’s easy,” I cut in. “No council members. Mayor or not, you don’t want anyone reporting back to her on what you’re up to.”
“You are a genius.” Doris reached over and patted my hand.
I shrugged. “Not really. But thanks.”
The bell above the front door jingled, and River turned to see a group of workmen enter. “Uh-oh, lunch crowd is about to hit.” She jerked her thumb toward the men. “This is the crew working on the road into town.”
“We’d better order and let you get back to it,” I said. “I’ll have the Florentine paninis and a coffee. Long black.”
“I’ll have the Texas Wave paninis and a caramel latté,” Doris said.
River scribbled down our orders, collected the menus, and departed with the promise that our food wouldn’t take long.
“Casey mentioned the Gravestone Women’s Committee this morning,” I said. “He was killing time before he had to go to a job at Joan Jackson’s. Said she would be at the meeting.”
“Matt Casey was at your house?” Doris asked with an unmistakable twinkle in her eye.
“Yeah. He was installing my new oven. He’s coming back to give me a quote on some repairs around the place. Why?”
Doris leaned forward, elbows on the table, and stage whispered, “Casey and River used to be a thing.”
“Yeah. He told me. High school sweethearts.”
“Until Seth Saltzman came along.” Doris’s brow furrowed, the lines deep in her tanned skin.
Out of all the empty tables, the workmen chose to sit directly behind us, their voices loud as they settled into their seats, laughing and riling each other, making conversation impossible. Rather than try to shout over their raucousness, I turned my attention to the view once more, hypnotizing myself watching the waves wash upon the shore, the men’s voices nothing but background noise. Only my training meant I was never switched off. My ears pricked up when one of them mentioned the track they’d found. The one that had been intentionally hidden. When they finished resealing the road, they planned to go back and check it out and see what was at the end.
My eyes met Doris’s. She’d heard it too. We had to be thinking the same thing.
“We need to check that out,” I said.
“We can call ourselves Keen Agers,” she said.
“What?” we said in unison.
“What are you talking about?” I jumped in before she could speak again.
“Our new women’s committee. We can call ourselves Keen Agers. What are you talking about?”
I jerked my thumb behind us. “This lot found a hidden road. I say we check it out.”
She leaned back, frowning. “Why? That doesn’t sound very exciting.”
My brows shot up. “No? A secret road? Intentionally hidden? A missing body? You don’t think those two things might be connected?”
“Oh!” Realization dawned. “You’re right.”
“Usually am.”
“Modest too.”
“I’ve been accused of worse.”
Doris laughed out loud, drawing the attention of the men at the table behind us. Doris flirted up a storm with the men, and before I knew it, we had the location of the hidden track they’d unearthed. Then our food arrived, putting an end to the banter.
“How’d you do that?” I lowered my voice so the men wouldn’t overhear.
“Do what?”
“Charm them so easily?”
“I’ve had years of practice, child.” Doris winked. “That and a little magic.”
My brows shot up. “Magic?”
“Mmm. You know.” Doris wriggled her fingers. “A little razzle-dazzle.”
“Riiggghhhht.” Usually, I could peg people straight away, but Doris remained an enigma. There was more to her than met the eye, that was for sure, and I pondered the old woman and her insane level of fitness while I ate my panini.
“Urgh,” Doris grumbled, dabbing at her mouth with a paper napkin, her eye on the door and who’d just walked in.
I glanced over to see a tall, overweight woman step inside. She wore a tweed skirt with a matching jacket that was incongruent with the current temperature. The navy pumps on her feet appeared to be two sizes too small, given the amount of flesh squeezing over the top. A long string of pearls bounced on her ample bosom while she slid a pair of oversized sunglasses down her nose, surveying the room.
“Who’s that?” I asked.
“Satan herself. That… is Kerris Jones.”
I watched while Kerris Jones’s eyes darted from table to table until they came to a stop on us. They narrowed to mere slits before she began moving in our direction. She was a big woman. Not just overweight but overall big. She had to be at least six feet tall. Her bottle-blonde hair was cut in a sharp bob, the dead straight strands barely moving.
“Doris!” Kerris boomed, voice unnecessarily loud considering she was only a few feet from our table.
Doris glanced up as if she didn’t know Kerris had arrived. “Oh, hi, Kerris.” Digging in her purse, she pulled out a compact and a tube of lipstick and proceeded to touch up her makeup.
“You look nice. Who dressed you? Drag Queens ‘R Us?” Kerris inquired sweetly.
“You look lovely, Kerris. I’m so sorry I couldn’t attend your funeral last year,” Doris shot back without missing a beat. I leaned back in my chair and watched the exchange unfolding in front of me. I could see what Doris had meant about Kerris. She was the type of person who would steamroll you, quite literally, into doing whatever she wanted.
“You missed the meeting today,” Kerris said. “Three strikes, and you’re out.”
Doris arched a brow. “Oh? Another new rule? Actually, I was there. I had to leave early. Another appointment to attend.”
Kerris stiffened. “What could possibly have been so important you had to leave?”
Even I bristled at that. Kerris clearly took her role as mayor very seriously, which meant knowing everyone’s business. I was eager to hear Doris’s response. She didn’t disappoint.
“I had to have my hemorrhoids lanced.”
Kerris blanched, her hand clutching her pearls.
“Do you want to see?” Doris offered, starting to stand, her hands going to the button on her pants. “You know, as proof for the Committee minutes?”
Kerris waved her back into her seat. “That won’t be necessary.” She turned her attention to me. “And you must be poor old John’s long-lost niece. I’m Mayor Jones. It is my honor to welcome you to Gravestone.”
I inclined my head slightly. “Great niece,” I automatically corrected. “And thank you.”
“Will you be staying long?” she asked.
“Depends.”
“On?”
“Lots of things.”
Her nostrils flared, belying her irritation at my deliberately vague answers. I’d come across people like her before. She was nothing but a bully, using her size and her position to intimidate and threaten people into getting her own way.
“Well,” she huffed, pulling herself up even taller. “Maybe you’d consider dropping by my office where we can have more of a chat?”
“Why would I want to do that?” I asked, truly curious at such an invitation.
Kerris blinked, unused to having her invitations questioned. “So we can discuss how we may be able to help each other, my dear.”
“With what?”
Doris snickered, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.
“Your great uncle’s house, for one,” she snapped, annoyance rolling off her in waves. A sheen of sweat covered her face, and beneath the heavy layer of foundation, a hint of red peeked through. “It’s unsafe. Council will be issuing a notice to have it demolished.”
I nodded my head, not surprised by the sudden turn the conversation had taken. “Is that right? So, you have a detailed surveyor’s report stating that the property is unstable? Because, from what I understand, John Smith was a carpenter of good standing in this town, and he built that house himself, which would lead me to believe he built it good and strong.”
I pushed back my chair and stood. At five foot six, it didn’t bring us to eye level exactly, but she was no longer towering over me while I was seated. “Furthermore,” I continued, “even if the house is demolished, I still own the land, and who knows? Maybe I’ll approach my neighbors to buy their land, and I’ll expand and build a big old mansion on the mangroves. Which reminds me—maybe I will drop in after all to puruse the boardwalk plans. You know the ones? Just because John Smith is dead doesn’t mean the fight is over.”
“What?” she exclaimed, the color draining from her face before returning in a tidal wave of red. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for breath before she swiveled on her heel and stormed out, the floor protesting in loud creaks beneath her heavy footfalls.
“Oh, my God, that was gold!” Doris cackled. “But a word to the wise. Watch your back. You’ve just made an enemy of the mayor. She’s about to make your life hell.”