Full Scoop (17 page)

“His name is Okra,” Mel said.

The cat dropped the mouse and ran.

“Would you hand me some of that newspaper from the trash can?” Zack asked her.

Mel brought several sheets and handed them to him. “I guess you can tell my mother is terrified of mice,” she said. “Sometimes she has nightmares.”

Zack did not look at all surprised.

Savannah’s Best Costumes & Designs was tucked between Bernie’s Subs and McCracken’s Bookstore. The man who unlocked the door bearing the CLOSED ON SUNDAY sign was tall, black, and bald and wore a gold loop in his left ear. He held out his palm and Carl Lee slapped a hundred-dollar bill in it. “Welcome to Savannah’s Best Costumes,” the man said. “We’re always willing to open our doors on Sundays to our special friends.” He tucked the money in his shirt pocket.

“Do you have what I need?” Carl Lee asked.

The black man led him to a counter where several plastic bags hung from a rack. “You’re lucky I still have Elvis costumes left with the convention in Beaumont. Everybody wants to be the King.”

“You have the right sizes?”

“The slacks are going to be an inch too long on two of them; same with the sleeves. But it’s as close as I can get. Inside each hanging bag, you’ll find what you need: a wig, fake sideburns, and gaudy-looking chains. You know, Elvis crap.” He shoved a form across the counter. “You’ll need to fill this out and show me some identification.”

“I’m in a hurry,” Carl Lee said.

“Yeah? Well, then, moving right along. How long will you need the costumes?”

“A day or two.”

“It’ll cost you sixteen hundred, including the deposit.”

Carl Lee’s gaze turned hard. “Are you messing with me, pal?”

“I got some money in those suits, man, and you don’t want to give me an address or ID? I definitely need a sizeble deposit.”

Carl Lee stood quietly for several minutes, his gaze unwavering, muscles in his jaw flexing. Finally, he leaned on the counter. The other man’s smile faltered. “Here’s the way we’re going to do it,” Carl Lee said. “I’m going to put five hundred dollars on this counter, and then I’m going to walk out that door with the costumes, and you’re going to be happy with it.”

The other man looked into Carl Lee’s eyes and took a step back. “Okay, man, I’m good,” he said quickly. “I don’t need any trouble. I got my own stuff going on around here, know what I mean? I can’t make a living renting stupid Elvis costumes.”

Cook watched Carl Lee exit the costume shop with the plastic bags and head toward the car. “Like I said, Ed, it’s just a little side trip, and it’s for a good cause. It’ll be fun. Then we’ll head north to Canada as planned.”

“What if somebody recognizes me?” Ed said.

Cook laughed. “They’ll say, ‘Hey, look, it’s Elvis!’ ”

Ed smiled.

Zack opened the back door and stepped aside for Jamie to enter, giving her a friendly smile. “Maggie said you were coming by. Where is Romeo-the-hound?”

“He headed straight for the backyard. I’m pretty sure he’s going to ask Butterbean for her hoof in marriage, although I think they’re rushing things.”

Zack draped his arm around her shoulders and began walking her down the hall. “Jamie, you can’t measure love according to time. When it’s right, it’s right. A couple just knows. I think that may be the case with Fleas and Butterbean.”

Jamie studied him. “Are you speaking from experience?”

Zack gave her a funny look as he tapped on Maggie’s bedroom door. “Jamie is here,” he called out.

“Send her in, Jeeves,” Maggie said.

Zack pulled his arm from Jamie’s shoulder and winked. “The mistress of the house and I are on a first-name basis.” He opened the door, stepped aside so she could enter, and closed the door behind her.

Maggie was staring at her checkbook and wearing a perplexed frown. She held up one finger. “Give me a second, I’m almost done.”

“You’re getting pretty friendly with your staff,” Jamie said. “Have you seen him naked yet?”

Maggie jerked her head up, felt the heat rush to her face. She tried to answer. “Wh . . . uh?”

This time Jamie cocked her head to the side. “Did you say ‘whuh’?”

Maggie was almost sure her ears were scorched. She shrugged.

“Why is your face so red?” Jamie asked. “How come you’re not breathing? How come you didn’t tell me you and Zack were doing
real
undercover work? And don’t give me ‘whuh.’ ”

Maggie just sat there not knowing what to say.

Jamie kicked off her shoes and sat cross-legged on the bed, studying her friend thoughtfully. “You don’t
look
any different.”

Maggie closed her eyes and sighed.

“He’s got it bad for you,” Jamie said.

Maggie opened her eyes. “Oh, please.”

“I’m serious. I know that look. I’ve seen it on Fleas when he looks at Butterbean.”

“Have you forgotten why Zack is here? Besides, if anything
is
going on between us—” She paused. “No, it’s too weird.”

“What?”

“I think Queenie has something to do with it. I mean, good grief! Zack and I don’t have time for this stuff. Carl Lee Stanton is probably out there right now trying to decide whether to use a knife or a gun on me.”

“You don’t really believe Queenie would do something like that. You and Zack are just irresistibly drawn to each other.”

“I can’t think about it right now. It’s too much. I have to keep a clear head. I have to protect my daughter. I have to have that talk with her.” Maggie stacked her bills and envelopes and put them on the night table. She looked up. “Would you like something to drink?” she asked, purposely changing the subject. “I have lemonade, diet soft drinks, coffee, bottled water,” she said.

Jamie shook her head. “I’m fine. Besides, I’ve given up coffee. It upsets my stomach. And citrus drinks give me heartburn.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Where is Mel? I don’t hear her stereo.”

“She’s in her room reading
Gulliver’s Travels
.”

“Grounded, huh? Dare I ask why?”

Maggie told her.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Jamie said. “I’m sorry you have to go through all this,” she added sadly. “It makes my problems sound petty.”

“Don’t be silly. Your problems have never been petty to me. So, talk.”

Jamie updated her on the never-ending, nerve-rattling problems going on at her house and repeated her story about the leaky faucet. “It’s driving me crazy. I’m tired and out of sorts.” Sudden tears filled her eyes. “My marriage is on the rocks,” she added.

“No way! Max adores you. If he seems distracted, it’s just because he’s impatient to get the plant up and running. He’s dealing with contractors at the house
and
the office. Now, would you like a little advice?”

“Yes!”

“Okay, Oakleigh Apartments has long- and short-term executive rentals. I’ve seen them, and they’re gorgeous. They’re fully stocked, right down to linens and dishes and toilet paper. They have daily maid service. You and Max could have a quiet time together.”

“I’d forgotten about Oakleigh. I wonder if there is a vacancy,” Jamie mused aloud. “I wonder if they allow pets.”

“They’re running ads in your newspaper. And I’m sure they’ll let you take Fleas. Good grief, you’re Max and Jamie Holt. You guys saved the town! You guys are celebrities. You guys—” Maggie paused. “You’ll probably have to pay a pet fee.”

“That’s a great idea,” Jamie said. She climbed from the bed and stepped into her shoes. “I’m going to drive over there right now and rent one. Thank you, Maggie.” She hurried toward the door.

“Oh, one more thing,” Maggie said.

Jamie turned. “Yeah?”

“Take a pregnancy test.”

Chapter Twelve

Zack opened the back door just as Jamie reached for the knob. He stepped inside. He wore an old hat with a raccoon’s face on the front; the top part of the hat was covered in fur. “Found it in the back of the van,” he said at the look Jamie gave him. “Thought maybe I could gross out Mel,” he added.

“Yeah, that should work.”

“You’re not going to believe this,” he said. “The goat is gone, and so is your dog.”

Jamie blinked several times. “Wh . . . uh?”

Zack gave a slight frown. “Sorry, I didn’t get that. Did you just say ‘whuh’?”

“Ignore it,” Jamie told him. “How long have they been missing?”

“I just now noticed,” he said. “Butterbean chewed through her pen. I’ve been looking for them. They couldn’t have gotten very far.”

Maggie came up behind Jamie. “What’s wrong? Other than Zack having really bad taste in hats?” she added.

Jamie told her what was going on.

Mel came into the room, still dressed in her pajamas. She looked at Zack and gave a huge sigh. Finally, she opened the refrigerator door, stared inside for a moment and slumped. She proceeded to the cabinet, looked inside, closed the door, and banged her head gently against it. “There’s never anything good to eat in this house.”

Maggie, deep in thought as to where the animals could have gone, paid scant notice to her daughter’s food complaints. “Honey, just try to make do for now,” she said. “I think we should drive around and look for them,” she told Zack.

He nodded. “I was going to suggest that, but I want you and Mel with me.”

Mel had her hands in the potato chip bag. “Who are you looking for?”

“I think Fleas and Butterbean have eloped,” Zack said. “Guess they won’t need a best man. Guess I won’t get to show off my new hat.” He grinned at her.

Mel just stared back at him as she stuffed potato chips in her mouth.

Maggie grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter. “Mel, you need to come with us.”

“In my pajamas?”

“Run and throw on something quick, okay?” Maggie glanced at her, then gasped. “Why are you eating potato chips for breakfast? I’m a doctor, for Pete’s sake! I preach healthy food to my patients’ parents every day, and my own daughter eats cold pizza and potato chips for breakfast.”

She reached for the bag, but it slipped through her fingers and fell to the floor, scattering potato chips in every direction. Maggie closed her eyes. “I’ll clean it up while you change clothes.”

Mel looked up from the mess. “Why can’t I have a normal childhood?”

“You
do
have a normal childhood,” Maggie said, hurrying for the broom and dustpan. “Hurry, now, we have to find a goat who has obviously lost her head over a hound dog. Oh, and I need to leave a note for Queenie in case she comes by for her black hen’s egg and decides to paint bat’s blood on our front steps or something.”

“Maybe I could go to a boarding school,” Mel said hopefully as she plodded down the hall to her bedroom.

“We need to take the van,” Zack said. “We can put Fleas in the backseat with Mel. Butterbean will fit in the luggage area.”

“I don’t have any rope,” Maggie said. “A belt, maybe?” She saw Zack wasn’t wearing one. “I’ll grab one of mine.” She raced down the hall.

“I’ll drive around and look too,” Jamie said to Zack. “I don’t like them disappearing so close to town. I hope they don’t get hit by a car.”

Maggie returned with her belt. “Ready? Where’s Mel?”

Mel came through the kitchen door. “I’m here! Geez!”

“Wear this,” Zack said, plunking the hat on Maggie’s head, “just in case Stanton is out there watching.”

“Please tell me you’re not really going to wear that in public,” Mel said.

Zack backed the van out of the garage a few minutes later. Jimmy Hendrix was blasting through the speakers singing “Purple Haze” and beads swung behind the seat. The raccoon hat all but covered Maggie’s eyes. At the end of the driveway, Zack paused to let a car pass, and he began playing an air guitar. Mel lay in the backseat, hands covering her face.

Zack pulled from the driveway. “Okay, keep an eye out, Maggie,” he said. “Mel, keep your head low, okay?”

“I’m really nervous,” Ed said, his black Elvis wig falling forward on his head again. “I’ve never been in front of a crowd. I’m feeling light-headed and dizzy, and I’m having heart palpitations. My whole body is shaking, and my palms are sweating, and I feel sick to my stomach. I have to pee. I wish I had gone to that nursing home.”

“Would you shut the hell up!” Carl Lee yelled, so loudly that Ed and Cook both jumped. “We are on a schedule, old man. If I have to stop this damn car one more time I’m going to stuff your wig in your mouth and lock you in the trunk. You got that?”

“I knew you weren’t a real priest,” Ed said. “I knew you were faking it. You’re going to be screwed when the pope finds out.”

Carl Lee swerved to the side of the road, slammed on the brakes, and pulled out his gun. He swung around and shoved it against the elderly man’s forehead.

Ed’s eyes shot open wide. He gasped and wheezed and clutched his chest. His eyes rolled around in his head and he fell sideways on the seat.

“Oh, shit!” Carl Lee said.

Cook gaped and shrank against the passenger door. “Is he?” He gulped. “You killed him, Carl Lee! You killed Ed! I’m outta here.” He reached for the door handle.

“Think again.” Carl Lee moved the gun to Cook’s left temple.

“You can’t shoot me. You’ll get blood all over the car, and we’re supposed to join that parade in fifteen minutes. You’ve already got one dead man in the car. What do you plan on doing with two?”

“You’re right,” Carl Lee said. “I can’t shoot you so I think this is the perfect time to play my trump card.” He reached beneath the seat, pulled out a photo of a young woman and a blond pigtailed girl playing with a puppy in front of a neat, white frame house. He dropped it in Cook’s lap.

Cook’s hands shook as he picked it up and held it almost reverently, a recent photo of his daughter and granddaughter. “H-how did you get this?” His voice was strangled.

“You’re not the only one I hired, retard. I give the word, and they disappear. My friend needs the money.” Carl Lee lowered the gun. “Don’t make me prove what I’m capable of, Ray.”

Someone knocked on Lamar’s door, and a young officer opened it and stuck his head inside. “Chief, we have a little situation.”

Lamar Tevis had his phone pressed to his ear. He held up one hand. “Yes, Vera, I’ve definitely decided it’s time I pass the old badge to someone else,” he whispered, “and I was thinking you or Jamie would like to interview me. You know, tell people how devoted I’ve been to my job and all I’ve accomplished while serving as police chief. And I’d really like it if you’d mention my deep-sea fishing business.”

The officer waved. “Um, Chief—”

Lamar held up his hand again. “Just one thing, Vera,” he said. “I don’t want anyone to know about it until after I get this mess cleaned up with Stanton.” Lamar hung up and looked at the officer. “What!”

“Well, the parade is about to start, Chief, and there’s this goat running loose on Main Street. And there’s an ugly hound dog with the goat, and he won’t let anybody close to the goat. Starts growling and snarling like he’s going to eat us alive. He looks pretty dangerous.”

Lamar yanked off his cap and threw it on the floor. “Do I look like Animal Control? Do I look like a parade organizer? Don’t people realize that I’m trying to catch a dad-burned killer?”

“Is that Kenny Preston?” Delores from dispatch asked Carl Lee, as she and two other women tied helium balloons to the door handles and hung banners on either side of the Cadillac. She stared at the newly deceased Ed in his sunglasses and rhinestone-laden jumpsuit, propped between Carl Lee and the back door of the car, his pillow tucked beneath his head. “He looks really old,” Delores added. “Is he okay?”

In the front seat, Cook gripped the steering wheel tightly, but remained silent.

“He’s asleep,” Carl Lee said. “And yeah, he’s old. He’s the oldest and most famous of all the rest of us Elvis impersonators. I’ll wake him up when the parade starts. Doesn’t look like much of a parade,” he added.

“I’m sorry it’s small,” Delores said, “but there seemed to be a big mix-up. I only found one float. It’s our Thanksgiving float. It has an enormous turkey on it, but we took off the HAPPY THANKSGIVING banner.” She fidgeted with her hands and spoke in rapid-fire sentences. “And we couldn’t put together a marching band, but my aunt’s friend has a daughter who is married to a musician so we—”

“I think I get the message,” Carl Lee said, giving her a tight smile.

“But we provided the police escort you asked for,” she said, motioning to the squad car in front of them, “so the fans won’t try to rush Mr. Preston, but—” She glanced down Main Street where only a few people lingered and looked about curiously. “I don’t think we’ll have a problem with crowd control.”

“Are we about ready?” Carl Lee was clearly impatient to begin.

“There’s a goat and a bloodhound in the road. We’re just waiting for the police to catch them. Um, we’re honored to have Mr. Preston with us today,” Delores said. “Oh behalf of the town of Beaumont, let me welcome you.” She hurried away.

Carl Lee chuckled. “So what do you think, Ray? Not only have we made it past the roadblock, we have a police escort.”

“Yeah, you’re a genius, Carl Lee,” Cook said as he continued to stare straight ahead, his tone flat. “Now you need to figure out what we’re going to do with Ed after the parade.”

“What’s going on?” Maggie asked when she saw the large turkey towering above the cars ahead of them. “That’s our Thanksgiving float. I didn’t know we were having a parade. Mel, do you know anything about a parade?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder.

“How could I?” the girl said. “I’m grounded. I’m not allowed contact with the outside world.”

“There’s Butterbean and Fleas!” Zack said, motioning toward the other side of the street where police were in pursuit of the pair. He pulled off the road and cut the engine. “Wait here.”

Zack climbed from the van and ran in the direction of the scurrying animals. He heard someone call out to him and glanced over his shoulder. Jamie was trying to catch up.

“Are they getting ready to have a parade?” Zack asked as they hurried toward the dog and the goat.

“I just found out it was some last-minute thing they threw together to welcome a famous Elvis impersonator to town so it’s obviously tied to the convention. Oh, no, did you see that? Fleas just tried to bite a policeman!”

Several minutes later they had their animals in tow and a furious Jamie was giving Fleas a stern lecture. Every once in a while he looked back mournfully at Butterbean; Zack was leading her in the opposite direction toward the van. He opened the back door and hefted the little pygmy in and closed the door, just as a loudspeaker screeched in the background, causing a number of people to wince and cover their ears.

“We’d better get out of here fast,” Zack said, turning on the ignition.

“Yeah, we don’t want to get stuck behind a parade,” Maggie said.

Zack shook his head. “I’m more worried that loudspeaker will go off again.” He eased forward, waiting for several cars to pass.

“Zack, my man!” a male voice called out.

“It’s your friend Lonnie Renfro,” Maggie said. “Get a load of that outfit.”

Mel moaned in the backseat. “Could we please leave now?”

Zack glanced out his window as Lonnie crossed the street, bedecked in a fire-engine-red satin jumpsuit and matching cape. Rhinestones formed streaks of lightning across his chest and down the back of his cape. “Wow,” Zack said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like that. I hope nobody lights a match close to him.”

Lonnie waved wildly and hurried toward them, hand on his head as though afraid his Elvis wig would fly off. “Dude!” He reached inside the window and punched Zack on his left arm. “How’s it going, my man?” He nodded at Maggie and glanced in the backseat at Mel. “Is your daughter sick?”

“Just a cold from being in the night air,” Maggie said.

Lonnie’s blackened brows arched high. “Whoa, mama, you’ve got a goat in the back of your van.”

“Our new pet,” Zack said.

“That is too cool. Did you come to see the parade?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “It’s to honor Kenny Preston, the very first Elvis impersonator. He must be pretty important because the cops wouldn’t let me get his autograph.” Lonnie leaned closer. “The officer said he heard from someone
in the know
who heard from an
unknown source
who got it straight from the
horse’s mouth
that the rhinestones on Mr. Preston’s outfit are real diamonds.” Lonnie gave a huge eye roll. “Can you e-magine what that sucker must be worth?” he added, almost whispering. “I’ll bet they have to haul it to the dry cleaners in a Brinks truck.”

Lonnie suddenly shoved one hand forward. “Hey, buddy, I might not see you and the wife again on account of I’m leaving tomorrow. Take care of that arm,” he said, nodding at the cast. He glanced over the seat. “I hope you feel better real soon, young lady,” he told Mel before hurrying away.

“What do you think?” Jamie asked Max once they’d gone through the three-bedroom apartment at Oakleigh. The leasing agent had gone back to her office, leaving them to decide. Maggie had been right; the place was beautiful and more than large enough. Even Fleas seemed to appreciate it, despite being forlorn and missing his girlfriend. He’d found a sunny spot in the room at the back that was lined with windows and looked out over the marsh, favored by stately white egrets that added to the beauty of the landscape.

Max slipped his arms around her waist and kissed her forehead. “I’m thinking it’s great, Swifty,” he said, using the nickname he’d given her shortly after they’d met. He kissed her. “So when do we move in?”

Jamie grinned. “I’ve already put a deposit on it, Bubba.”

“I like a woman who knows her own mind,” he said.

They parked beside the newspaper office shortly before three o’clock. They walked toward the front door, hands linked, grinning like a couple of sixteen-year-olds on their first date. Jamie’s outlook on life had vastly improved now that she and Max were moving out of Hell House until it was habitable again.