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MARY-ALICE AWOKE WITH an uneasy feeling. She wondered whether she had made a mistake the night before. She hadn’t precisely turned down Boon's offer of marriage. But she hadn’t exactly accepted it, either.
“You and I get along pretty well, Miss Mary-Alice, don’t we?” he’d said, as he placed his hand on hers. “I’ve been thinking that if we’re still getting along this well by the time your kitchen’s finished, we might consider getting married.”
“Married?” Mary-Alice had stammered.
“To each other, I mean,” he explained.
He was a lovely man, she'd replied, and she enjoyed his company very much. But she had been a widow for so long, she needed time to think it over.
Now she wondered whether she shouldn’t have simply said yes. She enjoyed spending time with Boon, and everything she knew about him told her that he was an honorable and compassionate man. And she was in her eighth decade of life. What, she asked herself, was she waiting for?
Enough dithering, Mary-Alice thought as she sprang out of bed. I'll get dressed, go out there, and tell him...
Tell him what? She sat back down on the bed. The truth was that while she admired Boon and enjoyed his company, becoming engaged to him while he was still in her employ seemed highly improper. And in any event, she simply wasn’t ready. She’d endured a good deal of upheaval in her life recently, and she wanted things to settle down before she made any important decisions.
The proper thing would be to act like nothing was wrong. She would sashay on over to Francine’s like everything was just as normal as could be. She’d leave off the usual box of baked delights for the working crew and then she’d manage her face to give Mr. Boon St. Clair a gracious and friendly greeting.
But when Mary-Alice came into the kitchen with the pink box from Francine’s, Boon wasn’t there.
“No, ma’am, Mister St. Clair hasn’t come in this morning,” one of the young women offered.
Mary-Alice smiled and thanked her.
Well, that tears it, she thought glumly. I’ve driven him away. With a sinking heart, she trudged back to her room and placed a call to Gertie. She hoped that concentrating on Ida Belle’s predicament might distract her from thinking about Boon, even if just for a little while.
“Mary-Alice, we were just about to call you,” Gertie said. “How soon can you get over to the sheriff’s station? They’re fixing to let us visit with Ida Belle.”
Deputy Breaux met Mary-Alice by the front counter of the sheriff’s station and guided her down the hallway to an interview room. Fortune and Gertie were already there, sitting on one side of a battered wooden table. Ida Belle sat on the opposite side. Mary-Alice had expected Ida Belle to be wearing some kind of prison uniform, but she was wearing her usual oxford shirt, and didn’t even have on handcuffs. You wouldn’t know anything was wrong with her shoulder, except that she only moved her good arm as she talked.
“...I’m not worried about the drunks and the wife-beaters,” Ida Belle was saying. “They’re more scared of me than I am of them. Remember, I’m a cold-blooded murderess. Hey, Mary-Alice. Come on in. Okay, what’d you all find out? I’m dying to know.”
“Lowery spent time New Orleans,” Fortune announced. “So I checked into his history there. He was enrolled in the NOLA police academy, but didn’t finish.”
“So he washed out,” Ida Belle said.
“Or they put him undercover,” Fortune countered. “Which widens our pool of suspects.”
“I surely do wish I could’ve gotten Leonie to tell me whatever it was that she was hollering about the Marines to Deputy Breaux,” Gertie said. “Maybe I should go back to the Swamp Bar and give it another try.”
“If you want to get yourself all tarted up and go off to the Swamp Bar just so you can flirt with Junior Baker again, then you just go on ahead,” Ida Belle said. “You don’t need to use me as an excuse.”
Mary-Alice interrupted before Gertie could answer back.
“I was thinking, why don’t I call on Victorin’s mama, Miss Eulalie? I understand she still lives in Sinful. Now, Gertie can’t go, because she’s been friends with Ida Belle since they were little children. Fortune is far too young, and she's a Yankee besides. No offense, Fortune, darling.”
“None taken,” Fortune said.
“I appreciate the thought, Mary-Alice,” Ida Belle said. “But just how are you going to introduce yourself? You can't go knock on her door and tell her you're gonna be her new best friend.”
“Boon told me that Eulalie attends the Catholic church now and then,” Mary-Alice said. “If she’s Catholic, I think it might be worthwhile to try meeting up with her on Bingo night.”
“When’s Bingo night?” Ida Belle asked.
“Wednesdays.”
Gertie’s eyes widened. “But today’s Wednesday! That only leaves me a few hours to pick out my Bingo outfit!”
Ida Belle rolled her eyes, which did not escape Gertie’s notice.
“I have to look frumpy so I’ll blend in,” Gertie continued maliciously. “Ida Belle, you don’t mind if I go over to your house and borrow something to wear, do you?”
Fortune raised her hand. “Gertie, do you think it’s a good idea for you to show your face at the Catholic church? After all the times we’ve beaten them in the Banana Pudding War? At least Mary-Alice is a noncombatant.”
“That is a good point,” Ida Belle said. “Ever since Fortune came to Sinful we’ve been whuppin’ their Catholic butts every Sunday.”
Joking about whupping people’s butts on Sunday struck Mary-Alice as irreverent, but she knew she shouldn't judge Ida Belle too harshly. Life behind bars changed people, or so she’d read.
“Sorry, Mary-Alice,” Gertie said. “I would’ve liked to go with you, but they’re right. You have to do this alone.”
“Besides, dressing up like a frumpy Catholic Bingo lady isn’t as much fun as getting all dolled up to go out to the Swamp Bar,” Ida Belle added.
“There’s just one more thing.” Mary-Alice glanced at the door of the interview room. Being inside the sheriff’s station made her nervous. “I don’t know Miss Eulalie by sight.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Ida Belle said. “She’ll be the one in pink.”
“What if there’s more than one woman in pink?”
“Oh, you’ll know her,” Gertie said. “Trust me. Not just pink. Capital-P- pink.”
“Oh, I know who you’re talking about, now,” Fortune said. “You can’t miss her, Mary-Alice. The woman looks like a Pepto-Bismol bottle.”
Deputy Breaux opened the door of the interview room. “Five minutes, ladies.” He looked sheepish.
Ida Belle nodded, dismissing him.
“I do appreciate it, Mary-Alice,” Ida Belle said when Breaux had withdrawn. “My public defender’s an imbecile. If I didn’t know better I’d think he was related to Celia.”
Then, remembering that Mary-Alice actually was related to Celia, Ida Belle added quickly, “So, any other news before you all have to leave me?”
“Celia called on me,” Mary-Alice said.
“Well, that would ruin anyone’s day,” Gertie said. “What did she get on your case about this time?”
“For one thing, she deemed it her place to let me know she disapproved of Boon. But that aside, she was very excited about the history of Sinful. She brought over a whole box of that pitiful Pansy’s things. To help me with my historical research, she said. And she told me she wanted a signed copy of the book when it was finished. If Gertie hadn’t agreed to help me out of this situation, I simply don’t know what I’d do.”
Gertie’s hunted look showed that this agreement had entirely slipped her mind.
“Family history?” Ida Belle asked. “What’s she talking about?”
Mary-Alice glanced at Gertie. Gertie stared at the scuffed wooden table.
“I had it in mind to look in the city records, to see if I could find anything out about Victorin Lowery,” Mary-Alice explained. “And Dorothy, you know she’s Celia’s cousin by blood and she’s in the God’s Wives club, she was at the counter. I thought she’d get suspicious and tell Celia everything I was doing in there. So Gertie gave me a wonderful cover story. I told Dorothy I was researching a history of Sinful.”
“So Gertie got you into this mess,” Ida Belle said, “And now she has to get you out of it. That’s a familiar story, let me tell you. Gertie, you know how to research historical records?”
Gertie made a face at her.
“Don’t worry about it, Mary-Alice,” Fortune said. “You go to Catholic Bingo and talk to Victorin Lowery’s mom, and I’ll see if I can help Gertie out with this family history business.”
Mary-Alice brightened. As did Gertie.
“Of course!” Mary-Alice exclaimed. “Silly me, you’re a librarian! Why, thank you so much, Fortune, that is such a relief.”
“Yes,” Gertie added sincerely. “Quite helpful, Fortune.”
“Not as helpful as you’re going to be, Mary-Alice,” Ida Belle said, as Deputy Breaux opened the door to escort Ida Belle’s visitors out. “Mary-Alice, I’m counting on you.”