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MARY-ALICE’S FIRST visitor the next morning wasn’t Ida Belle, Fortune, or Gertie. It was Wanda, Celia’s roommate from the hospital. She was looking perfectly well, and had clearly had time to spend on her makeup and hair that morning. Myrtle escorted her in, winked at Mary-Alice, and left.
“I hear the coffee here’s not that good.” Wanda handed Mary-Alice a gigantic paper cup full of coffee. “Figured you’d take cream and sugar.”
“Why yes, I do.” Mary-Alice took the coffee with gratitude. Her night in jail had been both unexciting and uncomfortable, and her back ached. “Thanks ever so much, darlin. I’m delighted to see you’re on the mend!”
“Oh, it was nothing. Just a touch of atrial fib. Hey, I brought something for you to read.” Wanda had a stack of books wrapped in a white plastic bag with the red Piggly Wiggly logo on it. She tightened the bag around the books, turned the stack vertically, and pushed the bundle through the bars. Mary-Alice peeked inside the bag and saw an illustration of a man’s smooth, muscular torso. She closed the bag quickly and set it down.
“They’re romances,” Wanda chuckled. “Not exactly great literature, but full of action, if you know what I mean. Helps pass the time.”
“Well thanks ever so much, darlin’. I do love to read. Won’t you sit down?”
Mary-Alice would give the books to Gertie when she got a chance. Gertie seemed to like that kind of thing.
Wanda dragged over a metal folding chair. She sat on it backwards, her knees on either side of the chair’s back.
“Well now, this is a lovely surprise,” Mary-Alice said. “Since you’re here, is there any news about poor Celia? Is she any better?”
Wanda shook her head.
“Depends what you mean by ‘better’. This morning she was crankier than a hornet with hemorrhoids. But she’s certainly getting her strength back. You know, I tried sharing one of my books with her after I finished reading it, cause you know, it can get boring just watching the television all day, right? And you know what she did? She took one look at the cover and chunked it back at me. Can you believe it?”
“Unfortunately,” Mary-Alice said quietly, “I can. I can indeed.”
Wanda reached into her purse and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
“And then she accused me of being a—what was it again? —that’s right, a ‘filth-mongering whore’. Well. That’s the last time I’m gonna do anything nice for her. I figured if Celia doesn’t appreciate a kind gesture, I know someone who might.”
Wanda punctuated that last statement with a self-satisfied pull on her cigarette.
“Wanda, darlin”, Mary-Alice chided, “I believe smoking’s not permitted here.”
Wanda cast a glance at the No Smoking sign on the wall across from her and waved her cigarette dismissively.
“Aw, they’re not even real cigarettes. They’re Marlboro Lights.”
Mary-Alice considered what to say next. She had only met this Wanda person once, and was unsure whether to trust her. Maybe Wanda really was what she seemed, a friendly lady who had had the misfortune of sharing a hospital room with Celia. Or maybe Wanda was part of Celia’s scheme, and Celia had sent her over to spy on Mary-Alice, in which case Mary-Alice could get a message to Celia. Either way, Mary-Alice thought it was worth continuing the conversation.
“Wanda darlin’, is Celia still claiming I attacked her?”
Wanda laughed and nodded.
“As far as I know. It’s absurd, isn’t it? I mean, look at you, such a tiny little thing, and I can tell you wouldn’t hurt a fly! I can’t believe they actually stuck you in here.”
“Being in jail is tiresome,” Mary-Alice conceded (although wouldn’t Beulah be impressed when Mary-Alice told her about it at their next luncheon!) “And I must say, it is lovely to have a visitor. How did you know I was here?”
“Sheriffs were in to see Celia last night.” Wanda took a deep drag on her cigarette. “I know how to keep my eyes closed and my ears open.”
“What else did you hear?” Mary-Alice asked urgently.
“Nothing that seemed real important, truth be told. Aside from you being in the Sinful lockup, of course. Oh! You know a Miss Cookie? Does that sound familiar?”
“Yes, I know Miss Cookie,” Mary-Alice said.
Wanda leaned down and stubbed out her cigarette, leaving a round, black burn on the beige linoleum floor. She left the butt there by her feet and lit up a fresh cigarette.
“I guess the sheriffs got Miss Cookie’s statement and right after that she left town. Seems suspicious, doesn’t it? Anyway, seems Celia was walking along early in the morning, when who does she see but this Miss Cookie, doing wheelies on her scooter. That must’ve been the drugs talking, though. I don’t see how that’s possible”
Mary-Alice thought it was entirely possible, if Miss Cookie had had Hot Rod soup up her scooter. But she didn’t want to interrupt Wanda. It was only good manners to hear someone out once they’d started telling a story.
“So when Miss Cookie sees Celia, she comes zooming up to her, looks her right in the face, and starts screaming, Zombie! Zombie!”
So Celia must have already been disfigured with bruises when she encountered Miss Cookie, Mary-Alice thought. Either that, or Miss Cookie just decided Celia was a zombie. Mary-Alice thought the first explanation was more plausible.
“What happened next?” Mary-Alice asked, as Wanda blew a smoke ring.
“Well. I guess Celia wanted to get away from this ‘screaming madwoman’ but something tripped her, and she went down. I think she said she didn’t remember much after that.”
“Did she say anything else?”
“Let’s see. Oh yeah, something about stitches—”
Carter burst in to the room and cast a dismayed look at Wanda’s smoldering cigarette.
“I thought I smelled smoke. Ma’am, you’re not allowed—”
“Well, hell-o, deputy!” Wanda’s gaze traveled slowly down to Carter’s boots and back up to his reddening face. “I know, I know. I gotta run anyway. Mary-Alice, you take care of yourself, hear? Hope you like the books.”
Wanda stuck the cigarette in her mouth and sauntered out slowly.
Carter watched the door for a moment after Wanda left, then snapped his fingers.
“That’s the woman who was sharing Celia’s hospital room,” he exclaimed. “What did she want? What’s that?”
Mary-Alice did not wish to show Carter the contents of the Piggly Wiggly bag. She didn’t want him to see the copy of Tassels: A Stripper Romance, much less try to explain it to him. But then he said,
“Doesn’t matter. I’m here to let you out.”
“Why, that’s wonderful news!” Mary-Alice exclaimed, with only a touch of disappointment. “Does this mean that Celia has dropped the charges?”
“No. Ida Belle got your bail. She must’ve mortgaged her motorcycle or something. You’ve got some good friends, Mary-Alice.”