Dixie Diva Blues (41 page)

Carolann laughed and agreed. I’m not the only one who’s noticed Bitty’s aptitude for trouble. And, I admit, I’m usually right alongside her so I shouldn’t be too quick to point a finger. That’s another one of my character flaws that needs work.

It was a pretty busy day. With cooler weather, more people get out to shop. It’s a lot nicer walking from car to store without feeling like you’ve been run through a car wash without your vehicle. Two of the Divas came in, Cindy Nelson and Sandra Dobson.

Cindy is around thirty, has light brown hair, gray eyes, school-age kids in Marshall Academy in Holly Springs, and lives in Snow Lake, Mississippi about fifteen miles west on Highway 4. She’s cute and bubbly without being silly, and has a marvelous sense of humor and love of the ludicrous. That’s why she fits right in with the Divas, since we’re nothing if not frequently ludicrous.

Sandra Dobson is in her early thirties and an RN. Her nursing skills have been called upon a time or two on behalf of the Divas, for which we are all grateful. Sandra keeps her brown hair short, and has a no-nonsense way about her that befits her profession. But she also has a wicked sense of humor. If being a Diva has any vital requirements, possessing a sense of humor is at the top. An appreciation of the absurd and ability to deal with the unexpected is a great help, too.

At any rate, Cindy and Sandra selected a few things from the Vera Wang line, then drifted toward the Blue Velvet Room. Carolann and I moved two displays to another spot closer to the front door to give the merchandise more customer exposure, and replaced a few seasonal items with cool weather stock like hand-crocheted and knitted gloves, hats, and scarves. Cold weather in north Mississippi can soak bone-deep from all the moisture in the air.

Time flies when there’s a lot to do, and it was no exception that day. I really liked dealing with customers and all those beautiful garments. While most of the stock consists of things like chemises, bras, panties, and pajamas, Carolann also carries specialty items such as peignoir sets, dressing gowns, lovely blouses, pantyhose and stockings, costume jewelry, along with the novelty items like candles, scents, and soaps. As an employee, I was entitled to twenty percent off, too. Be still my heart.

“I never knew you named your shop Silk Promises,” I said to her as we dusted off glass shelves in a front window display. “That’s lovely, but everyone just calls it by your name.”

“One of the perks of living in a small town,” said Carolann with a smile. “People knew me before I bought into the shop, so that’s what it became. Kinda like Budgie, in a way.”

“Who owned the shop before you?”

“It was just an empty space when I first saw it. I intended to open a bookstore, but then realized that pretty undergarments would fill a need far better than books that can be ordered on the Internet or bought at Walmart.”

“Lately my life resembles something out of a fantasy book,” I said wryly. “When all the craziness is going on, I often wonder if I’m just having a nightmare or if it’s real.”

“And how do you tell the difference?” Carolann asked with a grin.

“If something nice happens, I know it’s just a nightmare.”

We both laughed.

During my lunch hour I ran over to the liquor store on Craft, up close to 78 Highway, and bought wine. Then I stopped by the Pig and bought a chess pie and a two-layer chocolate cake. I love chess pie and buttermilk pie, but they were out of the latter. I took them back to the shop and put the pie and wine in the refrigerator in the break room. I left the chocolate cake out on the counter so it’d be room temperature. Mama always fusses if I stick chocolate cake in the refrigerator, so old habits die hard.

After my return, Carolann left the shop for a while, and it was just me and Rose. She does her own stocking, but I do all the checkouts since the credit card machine and cash register is in the main part of the shop.

I did my best to be discreet and polite when scanning prices on French panties and cut-out bras, but I broke out into a nervous sweat when I had to do a price check on a large rubber dildo.

“It’s not in a box,” I explained to Rose when she came over to see the problem. “I don’t know what to charge for . . . it.”

The “it” I referred to was much too large to be anatomically proportioned, and it was pretty heavy and sturdy. I couldn’t imagine using it for actual . . . well . . . what it was intended. It had to be a joke of some kind. Especially since the woman purchasing it was older than me and didn’t look at all the sort of person I would imagine buying one of these. Of course, as Bitty usually says, “Ya just never know about people.”

“Oh, this is a display item and not for sale,” Rose said with a smile at the woman. “I have more in their original boxes. Is this the color you prefer?”

“Do you have them in other colors?” asked the customer.

“We do indeed. There’s black, brown, white, pink, and purple, and I have two left in a psychedelic blue that are very lovely.”

“Oh, I’d love to see the blue, please,” our customer replied eagerly.

My mind raced to horizons where it had never been before. I think my mouth sagged open so that I probably looked quite foolish. I just managed to recover before Rose got back with a psychedelic blue penis in an unopened box. It scanned perfectly, and I put it into a discreet navy blue bag and handed the woman her receipt. Sixty dollars plus tax.

I had had occasion to see Rose’s Blue Velvet Room before, and was amazed at the styles, colors, and textures of these items. They went from the really cheap plastic ones up to the really expensive silicone . . . er . . . imitation man things.

Rose saw my face and grinned. “It still horrifies you, doesn’t it,” she said, and I nodded.

“Kinda. Sorry. I just can’t quite get used to all those—things.”

“Wait until you see my newest line. Cyberskin. Very unique and natural.”

“Uhh . . . okay.”

Rose laughed out loud. “You are so funny, Trinket. Just call for me and I’ll come check out the customers who buy these, if you prefer.”

Now, Rose is one of those sophisticated southern women who remain poised no matter what is said or done. I’ve never seen her turn a hair at anything. She’s tall, a cool blonde with porcelain skin, very slender, and immaculately dressed. While I hadn’t liked her much the first time I met her, I’d soon come to realize that she’s just restrained in her appearance and manners. That’s why it had been so difficult for me to equate her with a person who sells sex toys for a living. Not that she hasn’t diversified. She recently bought the defunct toy factory and is having it refitted to manufacture all kinds of novelty items, ranging from political buttons to rampant penises. I can just see the assembly line crew now inserting batteries into rubber molds of various colors. Do they have to turn them on to make sure the motors aren’t defective? It boggles the mind to think about it.

At any rate, I didn’t want her to think I disapproved, so I said, “Oh no, I’m just fine with ringing up your merchandise, Rose, really I am. As long as no one asks me any questions about product performance, I’m good.”

“Then you’ll do fine. Will you be so kind as to give Bitty my regrets tonight? I’m afraid I won’t be able to make the Diva meeting. I have to leave here early. If my meeting with the city council in regard to my plans for opening my manufacturing plant ends in time, I’ll do my best to drop by later. I don’t want Rayna to think I don’t care.”

“Oh, she’ll know better. Don’t you worry. I’ll tell Bitty myself, and make sure Rayna knows that you may be unable to show up. Don’t let the council browbeat you, you hear? Sometimes they get a little old-maidish.”

Rose smiled. “Thank you for the warning. I’ll be on my toes.”

The afternoon went even faster than the first part of the day, and before I knew it we were closing up the shop. Carolann had intended to close early, but a last minute spurt of shoppers kept us open until just after six. That left me barely enough time to go home, feed the four-legged beasts, and get back to Bitty’s house by seven.

“I’ll probably smell like a goat when I get there,” I said to Carolann, “so you’ll want to stand upwind of me.”

“Here. Take some cologne. That should help.” Grinning, she thrust a spray bottle of fragrance into my hand. “I’ll take care of closing up. You go on and get your farmyard duties done so you don’t miss any Diva time. I’ll bring your wine and cake for you.”

“Great. Thanks—don’t forget the chess pie in the refrigerator. It looks delicious.”

I started toward the back door, then remembered that I’d left my cell phone by the credit card machine and cash register. I walked back, retrieved it, waved to Carolann, and reached the back door just as it swung in on me. Startled, I took two steps backward. My hands were full and I couldn’t do anything to halt the smack of the door against me.

“Hey,” I began to protest, but a man’s voice cut me off about the same time that I heard Carolann switch on the vacuum in the shop.

“Shut up and stand still,” he snarled at me.

I reacted without thinking. I squirted him full in the face with the bottle of spray Carolann had given me. It took him by surprise and half-blinded him so that he staggered a step backward. I looked around for another weapon, spied the chocolate cake, and with one hand, smashed it in his face. He stood there dripping in honeysuckle scent and icing for a moment, wiping frantically at his eyes. Several nasty turns of phrase filled the air, and I took the opportunity to get away before he could recover.

Since he was blocking the door I turned and ran back into the shop. Carolann still had the vacuum cleaner going and had no idea there was trouble. I headed straight for her where she was cleaning the carpet in front of the blue velvet drapes separating the Blue Room from the rest of the store.

I was only about three feet from her when my feet went out from under me and I felt an iron grip around my throat. Gagging, my legs kept trying to run but I wasn’t having much luck. I’d dropped the bottle of spray, but still had my purse straps around my arm and my cell phone in one hand. I tried to pry the arm away from my neck without success. Black spots danced in front of my eyes and I desperately flailed about trying to get away. My purse dropped to the floor in our struggle, and he tripped over it.

Then I got in a lucky punch with my hand holding the cell phone, and I heard him grunt in pain; he relaxed his grip enough that somehow I managed to twist away. In two steps I’d reached Carolann just as she turned around.

“Trinket! I thought you’d gone. What are you—oh!”

She screamed when the intruder scrambled toward us, looming out of the racks of ladies lingerie like a clumsy specter. A metal rack spun around and deposited neatly hung bras and matching panties on the carpet as he shoved past it to reach us.

“Run!” I hollered as loud as I could to be heard over the still-running vacuum. She abandoned the vacuum; it’s an upright and it ate its way across a couple feet of carpet until the handle bounced backward and the entire thing went upside down. Dust and small bits of fluff spit out of the whirring brushes. It growled loudly in a steady drone of sound as we both tried to reach the exit.

“Split up,” I yelled at her. “He can’t chase both of us!”

She went one way and I went the other. The man paused, swore softly, then came after me. I tried to get to the front door, but he blocked my way so I headed for the Blue Velvet Room. It has its own outside door. Just as I ducked through the blue velvet drapes, the entire shop went dark. The only light was that through the front windows crowded with displays. Carolann must have thrown the main switch. Bless her heart!

A heavy, dark silence fell through the shop. It pressed down like a wet blanket, and I heard my own rough breathing in the stillness. I also heard our intruder cussing as he apparently ran into another rack of Vera Wang and knocked it over with a loud clang.

I still hadn’t gotten a good look at our assailant, but I was pretty sure it was Walsh from the casino. For one thing, his voice was familiar; since I had only heard him behind me and hadn’t gotten a good look at him at our first meeting either, I had to go by the mug shots I’d seen on Rob’s computer. Bitty would recognize him, of course, but she was safely at home, thank heavens.

In the shadows thrown by drapes and display cabinets, I made my way to the door at the front of the shop. Locked. Apparently it was one of those locks that needed a key to open. My heart beat so loud and fast that I thought for sure Walsh had to hear it, too. I did my best to creep quietly back toward a display cabinet in the hope that I would find a key to the door. No such luck. If Rose hid a key there, she hid it very well.

I crouched behind the cabinet nearest the opening back into the shop. If there was any hope of escape, it’d have to be out the back door. Maybe I could make it if he thought I was in another part of the store. If only I had a weapon of some kind . . .

The back of the glass display cabinet was unlocked. I carefully, stealthily, slid open one of the doors, and reached inside. Everything was in deep shadow because the only light in the Blue Room came from overhead fluorescent fixtures and through the door during the daytime. Rose pulled the shade down over the door when she closed up in the evenings, and with the lights out, it was really dark. My hand closed around something that felt eerily familiar. It was long, hard, and rubber. It was also pretty sturdy and would do if it came down to a physical confrontation, I figured.