Nineteen

To me and Fluffy, there ain’t nothing better for the soul than a good ride in the country, T-tops off, the breeze circulating through the car, and the radio pumping out something that rocks and is maybe a bit naughty, like Bonnie Raitt. It’s times like that when me and the Fluff are closest. Female bonding, I call it. I think Fluffy felt the same way, ’cause when I looked over at her, she was smiling. Either that, or the wind was ruffling her lips. I wanted to believe she was happy. In fact, I needed to believe she was euphoric on account of what I was about to do to her, my very own best friend.

We’d ridden over to Wewahitchka, after I’d spent the morning combing through the yellow pages looking for dog groomers named Iris. There was only one. The way I figured things, since Ruby’d been killed in her hometown, I couldn’t overlook her past, and the only bit of her life that remained a mystery was her first three years, her biological parents, and her roots.

I was considering any other, last-minute options, and Fluffy was considering the sky and the little fleecy clouds that danced across it. I looked over and felt a little sad, but in the end, what I was about to do would be for the good of us both. We were looking to find a killer, after all, and in a case like that, some sacrifice is necessary. Ruby’s biological mother could know something that would help me figure out who would have a motive to kill her. If not, Fluffy and I still came out ahead, because Fluffy would be clean.

I pulled up in front of the Doggie Palace of Pampered Love and cut the engine.

“Fluff,” I said, “I would’ve told you about this earlier, but you woulda ducked on me.”

Fluffy was definitely not smiling now. She smelled doggie fear in the wind, and her wide-brimmed ears were pinned back flat against her tiny head.

“It was the only way I could think of for us to meet Ruby’s original mother,” I said. Fluffy began to growl, deep and low in her throat.

“I know, I know,” I said. “You hate dog groomin’. Well, sugar, there’s parts of my job I don’t like either, but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do sometimes, even if it means letting someone clip your ear hairs.”

Fluffy barked, one shrill, glass-shattering yip of terror. Above all else, Fluffy hates the dog groomer. For her, it’s kind of like seeing the gynecologist while also visiting the dentist.

I snuck a peek at my watch. We were right on time for our noon appointment. I reached over and snatched Fluffy up in my right hand while opening the door with my left. It was best to barrel on ahead and not let Fluffy stew any longer.

The Doggie Palace of Pampered Love was a tiny bungalow covered with pink peeling paint and ivy that scampered up over the porch rails and up the side of the cottage. The Palace sat on a shady side street, surrounded by pin oaks. It would’ve been almost romantic, if not for the sound of a thousand yapping dogs and the smell of disinfectant.

As we reached the foot of the stairs, the door burst open and an elderly woman emerged carrying one pure white miniature poodle under each arm. Fluffy took one look at the matching pink hair bows and attempted to break free.

“Fluff, I won’t let them put no sissy pink hair bows on you!” But we both knew I was lying. I’d do anything to find out more about Ruby Diamond.

We stepped into the little house and Fluffy began to shake. In front of us stood the image of Dorothy Lamour a hundred pounds heavier in a brightly colored muumuu, with a huge synthetic magnolia blossom in her hair.

“This must be Fluffy!” she trilled.

“And you must be Iris Stokes,” I said, a big smile pasted across my face.

She hadn’t been hard to find. There was only one Iris Stokes listed in the phone book, and when I saw the Doggie Palace of Pampered Love listed right beneath her name, I knew I’d have a cover for asking every question I could think of.

Iris Stokes reached for Fluffy. I held my breath, waiting for Iris to scream out in pain as Fluffy sank her sharp little canines into her hand, but it didn’t happen. Fluffy was paralyzed with fear.

“Come on, darlin’,” Iris crooned, leading the way into her grooming room. “You’s a little scared, but Auntie Iris is gonna take such good care of you.” The muumuu rippled, shaking the brightly colored lotus blossoms. With a practiced movement, Iris set Fluffy down on a metal table and proceeded to fasten her collar to a little lead that ensured Fluffy’s cooperation by holding her prisoner.

“My, my, my,” murmured Iris, peering into Fluffy’s ears. “It’s been a long time since you had any attention of a personal grooming nature.”

Fluffy let out a loud, agonized moan of pure terror.

“Fluffy,” I said, stepping forward, “the lady hasn’t even touched you!”

Fluffy rolled her eyes up at me.

“Full treatment?” said Iris.

I nodded, and Fluffy started to yowl.

“Mind if I watch?” I asked. “Sometimes it calms her down.” I shot Fluffy a look, the kind of look that I hoped promised a wonderful treat if she cooperated.

Iris didn’t seem to hear. Instead she gathered up clippers and combs, bottles of goop and sprays, all designed to turn Fluff into a real lady.

“Ham!” she bellowed suddenly. A thin man materialized from the back room. He was elderly and walked gently, as if he were afraid of snapping in half.

“This little darling needs a bath,” Iris said, smiling. “And make sure she has a little time in the whirlpool, too.” Fluffy moaned again. Iris reached up, unsnapped her collar, and handed her over to Ham. He hummed something tuneless and walked off with my baby safely cradled under one of his bony arms. There’d be hell to pay for this little trip.

“How’d you hear about us, hon?” Iris asked, eyeing me like I was perhaps an exotic bird. Couldn’t blame her really. I was wearing a tiger-striped tank top, black stretch stirrup pants, and five-inch black stilettos. The way I figure it, every outside appearance is an opportunity to promote good public relations.

I let the sadness inside me well up and play across my face.

“Ruby Diamond’s mama told me about you,” I said.

The change in her was instantaneous. Gone was Dorothy Lamour, and in her place a grieving mother. She tried to hide it, but there was no way to hold back the tears that welled up in her eyes. She fumbled and dropped a pair of scissors.

“She told you about me?” Iris asked softly, waiting to see which way I’d take the question.

I took a step closer to her, close enough to reach out and touch the soft folds of fabric.

“Ruby and I were like sisters,” I said. “I want to know who killed her, don’t you?”

The room was as still as the air outside. Both of us holding our breath. In the distance, I could hear Ham shuffling around, talking gently to Fluffy and running water. Iris’s breath rushed out of her lungs in one huge sigh.

“I wouldn’t have given her up for the world, but I had no choice,” she said, and began to cry. “It was years ago. I had no family to help out. My husband went crazy and left us. I already had a little boy. How was I gonna feed two young’uns? I didn’t know what to do.”

Iris’s anguish was real. Her hands clawed at the fabric of her dress, and her eyes stared off into the past.

“The boy was older. He could half fend for himself, but Ruby Lee was just a baby. I couldn’t leave her to go find work.” Iris was shaking now, her entire massive body quivering with remembered pain. “So I did the hardest thing I ever done in my life. I dressed her all up in her pretty pink sunbonnet and this little pink checked dress with pearly buttons, and I took her up to social services. I left her there with them.”

Ham chose this moment to wander back in with Fluffy, cuddled up in a pink towel, only her head sticking through. Iris and I looked up and both burst into tears. Ham, not certain why the sight of a chihuahua swaddled in a blanket should cause such distress, did the only thing he could, the only thing any man would do. He pretended it wasn’t happening.

He stepped forward to the metal table, gently deposited the trembling dog, and clipped her to the harness. Now and then, as he completed his task, he’d look up at Iris, concern playing across his features, but he never met her eye directly. Finally, at a total loss, he left. Iris seemed unaware that he’d even entered the room, but she stepped mechanically over to the table.

“It’s all right, sugar,” she crooned to Fluffy. “No one’s gonna hurt you.”

She wasn’t talking to Fluffy.

“They found her a good home,” Iris said. “Wewa’s a small town. You’d a thought they’d place her farther away, and at first they did. Sent her off to stay with a family in the county somewhere, wait out the time for me to change my mind, or find money that wasn’t never coming.” Iris’s eyes glowed with frustration and grief.

She picked up the clippers and began to shave Fluffy. Fluffy didn’t have much hair to begin with, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt her to have an imaginary shave. Fluffy seemed to feel differently, but she stood absolutely still.

“What happened to Ruby’s father?” I asked. “Why didn’t he send child support?”

Iris looked up from her task, her eyes dull with hopelessness. “He was in a mental institution. By the time I could get on my feet, she was gone.” Iris picked up a spray bottle and spritzed some cologne on Fluffy, who sneezed loudly. “I knew where she was, of course. Jane Diamond all of a sudden had a little girl, been wanting a child all her life and couldn’t have one. Couldn’t have a dark-haired, big-eyed little girl till she got mine.” Iris shrugged. “I got what I deserved. We all did.”

“What do you mean?”

“I lost my baby. It was my fault. And Jane Diamond got her. Loved her like she was her own, and in time, she was. I had to watch my baby grow from a distance, saw her graduate high school, saw her leave for her senior prom.” Iris looked up at me for the first time. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying it should’ve turned out any different. What could I have given her?” She looked around the tiny grooming room and shook her head. “I got remarried, but it didn’t work out. He even adopted my son. But that ain’t no guarantee. He run off about six years later. By then, I’d been to grooming school.” Iris sighed and began to work on Fluffy’s ears.

“Fool me once,” she muttered, “shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. When number two left, I was ready. Me and Michael made out all right, squeaking by. Then Ham came along.”

With a start I realized Ham was husband number three. Old rail-thin Ham. Iris seemed to read my mind.

“Yeah, him. He’s older, just like my first husband, but he ain’t crazy.” She chuckled to herself. “Now, he’s a might slow on the uptake, but he loves me and he ain’t going nowhere. Ever’one I ever loved is gone.” She stopped and sighed. “Even Michael. He got himself into some trouble, and now he don’t speak to me.” As if on cue, Ham began his tuneless humming in the back room.

“What happened to Ruby’s father?” I asked. “Did he ever leave the institution?”

Iris looked disgusted. “Oh yeah, he left all right. Them legislators over in Tallahassee got the big idea it was wrong to keep nuts in the nuthouse. Developed a thing called deinstitutionalization. You know what that means, don’t you?” She didn’t wait for me to answer. “It means, ‘We ain’t spending no more tax dollars on you people. Go back where you came from and bother them people.’”

My heart quickened. Ruby’s insane father returned to Wewahitchka. How had he felt about her being adopted?

“So he came back here? To Wewa?”

Iris nodded slowly, opening a plastic container full of brightly colored hair bows.

“Yep. He came back. Acting like it was the Fourth of July and Christmas all rolled into one. Just as crazy as a Betsy Bug.”

“How long…” I couldn’t even figure out what question to ask first.

“He’d been away fifteen years when he come back, his hair all wild and his eyes lit up with a fire. Wanting to see his young’uns.” Iris snorted. “Couldn’t even remember we was divorced! Fat lot of good that did!”

“Where is he now?”

“All over town,” she said. “All up in Time magazine. All over the news. All over everywhere.”

“I don’t get what you mean,” I said.

“Honey, you ever hear tell of the Honk-If-You-Love-Jesus artist?”

“Wannamaker Lewis? Ruby’s father is Wannamaker Lewis?”

Iris nodded and picked a vibrant yellow bow, peeled a little patch off the back of it, and stuck it firmly in the center of Fluffy’s cue-ball head.

“The walking one and only,” Iris said. “Multimillion-dollar daddy.” She laughed softly to herself. “All the money in the world and he couldn’t save her. ’Course, he didn’t make any of it until after he was released, but still, she’s dead and he’s not. Somehow it don’t seem fair.”

Iris turned her attention back to Fluffy. “Don’t you look special!” she said. “Let’s shine that coat up a bit.” She reached for a small tube of grease that squirted out clear and smelled like a whorehouse. “This’ll do you!” she said, but Fluffy moaned.

“Did Ruby know about you and her father?” I asked.

Iris glanced up, her eyes sharpening to little pinpoints. “No! No way was I gonna put her through hell twice! I don’t know how her low-life of a father found out, but I do know the only decent thing that man ever did was leave his daughter alone. Him, me, Ruby’s new mama, Michael, and Ham were the only ones ever knew where Ruby went. That’s just how it had to be.”

Iris turned her attention back to Fluffy, who’d had enough of Iris and the Doggie Palace of Pampered Love to last her a lifetime. She was raising up her front paws and attempting to pull the hair bow off of her head.

“Darlin’!” Iris exclaimed. “That ain’t ladylike! Come on, now!” With a practiced hand, Iris slipped Fluffy’s rhinestone collar around her neck while at the same time undoing the snap that kept Fluff a prisoner. “There!” she said. “All purty for Mama!”

Iris gently placed Fluff in my arms and stood right in front of me, her teary, red eyes staring directly into mine.

“I can’t charge you for this,” she said, “on account of how you’re gonna find out who hurt my baby. You’re gonna come back here and tell me,” she said, “and then I’m gonna kill him. I couldn’t keep her. I couldn’t save her. But by God, I can avenge her!”

Iris’s eyes smoldered. Her heavy body trembled with rage, and for a moment her face was so red, I considered calling 911. Then Ham shuffled back into the room, humming, and the moment was broken.

For a second, the Doggie Palace of Pampered Love had seemed full of rage and violence, but just as quickly, it returned to pinkness and light, as if a cloud has passed briefly over the sun. Danger seemed as far away as Ruby’s childhood. But like childhood, the illusion of safety vanishes all too quickly. Me and Fluff were heading for big trouble. On one level I knew that, but did that make it right to drag my family and friends in along with me?