Dixie Diva Blues (31 page)

“Not unless it’s scratched into the brass somewhere. Or into plastic. Those things aren’t as sturdy as they used to be.”

“They probably hold up better when not used as a baseball bat. You’re lucky you weren’t charged with aggravated assault on a law enforcement officer.”

“I love it when you talk like a cop.”

He shook his head. “I mean it, Trinket. These guys aren’t playing around. They want this flash drive and what’s on it pretty bad. Enough to have already killed two guys for it so don’t think they’d hesitate to kill you, too. If you find any more evidence, you’ll need to turn it over to me
as soon as you get it
, understand?”

I gulped. Blue lights still flashed, and I saw Brownie hike his leg and pee on a cruiser’s front tires. The wind that blew across the fields had a touch of autumn chill at last. My mind raced as I stared at my cousin, and after a moment, I thought I had it pretty well figured out.

“The only other thing we found was some cryptic letters in that old shack, but it’s not like it’s code or anything. Rob already checked it out through one of his connections from his former life as a cop.”

“What?! You had pertinent information for this case and you turned it over to the main suspect? Are you crazy?”

Jake looked both stunned and irate at the same time. I defended our actions. “It’s not like he’s not going to eventually turn it over to the police himself, Jake. He just had to see if he could figure it out first. Besides, we think it’s not related anyway. It’s just an old manufacturer’s certificate with some lot numbers scribbled down.”

“You should have given it to me! Tell Rob I want it, and I want it
now
.”

I shook my head. “No, I can’t do that. I think he sent it to a friend of his who’s a Federal guy proficient with codes, to see what he could make of it.”

“Damn.” Jake shoved a hand through his dark hair. “That’s all we need, to get the Feds involved in this.”

“Oh, he isn’t involving them officially. It’s all unofficial. Especially since he’s the main suspect, as you pointed out.”

“How handy.”

Jake looked pretty upset, so I did my best to show him that we weren’t exactly doing nothing on our own to help find the real killer. Or killers.

“Look, Larry Whittier hid the flash drive in his saxophone, and was murdered for it. Then his friend Lee Hazen tried to find it and he ended up killed, too. It’s possible there’s more than one killer, don’t you think?”

Jake just shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and looked away. That irritated me. I scowled at him.

“Where’s the freedom of information we agreed upon?” I asked.

“I told you up front that there’d be a limit to what I’d tell you. I can’t and won’t compromise an official investigation.” He held up a hand when I started to speak. “That doesn’t mean I won’t tell you what I think you need to know. So this is your warning, an official and unofficial warning—
do not mess around with this guy
.”

He said each word with emphasis. I could have told him we had no intention of doing any such thing, but it wasn’t quite the truth. Not that we intended to confront the killer or killers. I just wanted to make sure my information was right before I took it to the police. Divas had suffered enough humiliation. Now we wanted respect.

But all I said was, “Rob Rainey didn’t kill Whittier, and you already know he didn’t kill Hazen because he was on house arrest. Yet he’s been indicted by a grand jury for murdering Larry Whittier. I’d say someone better do something pretty quickly or he’ll end up in prison for a murder he didn’t commit. Maybe Holly Springs police need to get more involved. Maybe Divas need to camp on their doorstep until they do.”

“Dammit, Trinket, that’s exactly what you
don’t
need to do. We can’t just go arrest someone without enough evidence or the case will be thrown out.”

“Tell that to the Clarksdale police. They arrested Rob and he’s innocent.”

“His fingerprints are on the murder weapon. He was there when police arrived. He had a motive for murder.” When I started to defend Rob, Jake put up his hand again. “I’m not saying he’s guilty, Trinket. I’m just saying that the Clarksdale police had enough evidence for an arrest. Jackson Lee is smart. Even if this case gets to trial, he’ll have more than just a good argument for circumstantial.”

“I’m sure that will be such a comfort to his family when they visit him on Death Row.”

Jake sighed. He seemed to do that a lot lately. “Just do what you should, Trinket, and keep out of this case, all right? That’s all I’m asking.”

“That sounds more like an order than a request.”

“If I got on my knees and pleaded, would it help?”

“Not really. I have no desire to be killed, so I intend to stay as far away from any murderers as possible.”

And I meant that, I really did.

CHAPTER 15

Bitty met me at Carolann’s shop when I got off work the next day. It was the lunch hour, and I finished up two sales before I was free. Bitty sailed in looking like a curvaceous rock star in her hot pink pantsuit and matching Badgley Mischka stilettos.

“When did I suggest that you show up in something neon?” I asked with a pained shake of my head. “You’ll be brighter than the lights at the casino.”

“Don’t you worry about me, Trinket. You need to start dressing better if you’re going to work in a clothing store. Ooh! Have those chemises just come in?” Bitty caught sight of the new Vera Wang line and it was nearly a half hour before I could drag her away. When she spots new underwear of the lacy kind, she clings to it like a baby spider monkey does its mama. I had to pry it out of her hands, finger by finger.

“You’ll have to start letting me know when new things come in,” she said with a faintly dazed expression by the time I got her into my car. “I can never pass up anything that pretty.”

“I’ve seen your closet, Bitty. It has its own zip code. You never pass up anything at all, much less things that are pretty. Take a break. Give your credit card a rest. I think I smell burning plastic.”

“Speaking of burning plastic, just who is this guy we’re going to go stake out?”

Bitty is queen of the non sequiturs.

“We’re not really staking anyone out, Bitty. I just want to be sure that it’s the man I think it is before I tell Jake anything about him. He’s already irritated with us because of that piece of paper you found in the antique piano at the Shack Up Inn.”

“Well, how was I to know he’d want to see it? It seemed like the best thing to let Rob have it and see what he could do with it. It turned out not to be anything, anyway. It’s just some random letters written down.”

“Rob said they’re musical notes. He tried to see if it was a hidden message, but it never made any sense. Even the Federal guy said he couldn’t crack the code, and there may not even be one. Larry could have just jotted down a piece of music he wanted to play.”

“On a manufacturer’s certificate stuck in the back of a piano? That seems like a lot of trouble to me,” said Bitty, and I looked at her.

“You know, you’re right. I wonder then . . . could it mean something else?”

“Of course it could. When I got to thinking about it, no auctioneer or employee would deface what might turn out to be a valuable part of an antique. Even such a minor thing as a label can make a difference in the price of a vintage piano.”

I rolled my eyes. “You keep changing the rules.”

“Well, you keep changing the game. I thought we weren’t going to go off on our own to do anything anymore. That’s what you said, yet here we are, headed for Tunica.”

“Okay, good point. But all we’re going to do is blend in with the tourists and the addicted so I can get a good look at this guy. Or at least,
I’ll
blend in. You’ll stick out like a strawberry Popsicle.”

“Oh, please. I’ll have you know this pantsuit is Chanel. It’s one of my favorites.”

“I didn’t say you aren’t stylish. I just said you’re bright. People who are trying to blend in rarely wear Neon Pink.”

“It’s a shade called Hydrangea Pink, I’ll have you know. Very chi-chi.”

“
Chi-chi?
There’s a word I haven’t heard in years. Anyway, the man I’m looking for is a pit boss. That means he’ll be around the tables watching what’s going on.”

“So you hope. What if he’s watching things in the control room where they have all the cameras?”

“I’ll have to hope he’s on the floor,” I said.

“Police are putting security cameras everywhere now. It’s amazing they aren’t up all over Holly Springs. You can bet they’re up all over Tunica. Just think of all the things security officers see on their little monitors. Talk about some good gossip! Miranda would love to be in on that, I’m sure.”

I laughed, then thought about it a moment. “You know, I can’t help wondering why Miranda Watson got involved in this, and how she got these names. Why won’t she go to the police if she’s sure these men are involved in Larry Whittier’s murder?”

“Probably because she’s mixed up in it,” Bitty said. She sounded quite satisfied at the prospect.

“I don’t see that,” I had to say. “Miranda may be a lot of things, but she’s no criminal mastermind.”

“I would say that maybe she’s just pretending to be stupid, but no one would ever believe that. She really is stupid.”

“Oh, get over it, Bitty. So she named her pig Chitling.”

“She carries it everywhere with her just like I do Chen Ling! And she dresses it up in silk and satin, and buys collars with sequins on them . . . she’s trying to show me up, Trinket, you know she is.”

“But she’s not succeeding, Bitty. For one thing, she can’t afford real diamonds and you can. For another, you can dress a pig in a silk suit—”

“—but it’s still a pig!” we chorused together, and then laughed.

“Grandma’s clichés still hold true today,” said Bitty with a smile, and I agreed.

I didn’t say it aloud, but I was glad that Chen Ling had stayed home with Sharita today. Since Sharita Stone—owner of a catering service and a private chef for several Holly Springs families—would be cooking a week’s worth of meals in Bitty’s kitchen while we were gone, she had graciously agreed to stay with the dog until we returned.

“You didn’t say anything to Sharita about where we were going and why, did you?” I asked Bitty a bit anxiously. Sometimes she has a tendency to say too much to the wrong people, and since Sharita’s brother happens to be Lieutenant Marcus Stone of the Holly Springs Police Department, I hoped Bitty’s mouth hadn’t run away with her again.

“No, of course not. I wouldn’t want Sharita to think she had to keep something from her brother. Not that she wouldn’t, I suppose. She seems very loyal. And Chen Ling just loves being around her, and they say that dogs can always tell a good person from a bad one, so . . . do you suppose pigs can do the same thing?”

“I’ve heard that pigs are smarter than dogs, so I don’t know,” I said, and Bitty gave me a horrified look.

“No!”

“That’s what I’ve heard. Of course, it’s probably not true.”

“Well, I would think not,” Bitty said with a disdainful sniff. “My Chen Ling is very, very smart. Dr. Coltrane said she was one of the cleverest pugs he’s ever seen, and he should know since he’s no doubt seen quite a few in his line of work.”

I thought about Kit saying that to Bitty, and how careful he’d probably been to say just the right thing. Did they teach that kind of tact in veterinary school? I wondered. Or maybe it’s just on the job training that teaches vets how to walk a fine conversational line with pet owners.

Just to steer our discussion in a safe direction, I asked Bitty how she and Jackson Lee were doing these days. She likes to talk about him, and she likes even more to jab me every now and then about my relationship with Kit. That’s okay. I can give as good as I get.

Before I knew it we were pulling into the wide driveway that leads to Tunica’s casinos. The parking areas are almost always filled with cars, even in an economic down-turn. We drove around for a moment before I found the right casino and pulled in to the parking lot.

“You’re not doing valet parking?” Bitty asked in some surprise.

“I figure we could both use the exercise.” I ignored her grimace as I pulled into a slot and cut the engine. “Okay, here’s the game plan,” I said. “We’re going to go in and play a little while we look around, but we’re not here to gamble. Okay? We’re
not
here to gamble. We’re here to see if I’m right and the guy who attacked me last night works here. Do you understand?”

“Well, of course, I understand, Trinket. I’m not a first grader. You don’t have to talk to me like I’m the village idiot.”

“Sometimes that’s the only thing that penetrates,” I reminded her. “I don’t care if you get on a winning streak. When I say it’s time we go, we go. I’m trying to get in and out of there without him recognizing me.” I put up a hand to halt the comment I knew was on her lips. “I know. I’m easily recognizable. I’m tall. Blah, blah, blah. Still, if we can manage it, I’d like to do this without him knowing it. That means, no scenes. Are we together now on what to do?”