When Good Bras Go Bad (Myrtle Crumb Series) (3 page)

God love her, she looked at me then and them big green eyes of hers were just full of tears
.
“Nobody cares about me anymore.”

“Baloney,” I said
.
“I care about
you
, and I know your Mama and Daddy love you better than anything on God’s green earth
.
Sunny cares about you.”

“Crimson don’t care about anybody except Al.”

I frowned
.
“I met Al today when she
came
through the lunch line
.
I don’t quite know what to make of her.”  I waited for Claire to tell me what she thought of Al, but she didn’t
.
“Is she new here?”

Claire nodded
.
“She started a couple weeks into the school year
.
She was really behind in math class; and since Crimson makes some of the best grades in class, Ms. Kuzco asked her to tutor Al a few afternoons after school.”

“So that’s how they became friends.”

“Yep,” she said, flicking an ant off the top step
.
“Now they’re thicker than thieves.”

“Speaking of thieves, have you heard anything about those robberies around here?”

Claire bit her bottom lip
.
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Do you know something that might help me and Officer Brody find out who’s been doing this?”

“I said I don’t wanna talk about it.”

I put my hand on her shoulder
.
“Please, baby, if you know something, tell me
.
I promise not to tell who told.”

She put her head in her hands
.
“I can’t.”

At least, I believe that’s what she said
.
It was muffled.

“They have that on all them detective shows on television
.
Never reveal your sources
.
That’s what they say
.
And sometimes when they’re talkin’ about true stories, they’ll even black out the people’s faces
so you can’t tell who they are.”  I shook my head
.
“Still, I often wonder if it was somebody you knew, if you’d be able to tell it was them anyway
.
You know what I mean?  Say, they said it was an anonymous source that worked at the Piggly Wiggly, and I knew you worked at the Piggly Wiggly and—
”

“Crimson,” she said.

“What, sweetie?”  I was still tryin’ to get my mind around whether or not I could recognize an anonymous source with a blacked out face if it was somebody I knew
.
I believe I could
.
Even if their voice was disguised, I think I could do it.

“Crimson.”

I looked over at Claire
.
“What about her?”

“I think….”  She bit her lip again
.
“I think she might be involved with the robberies.”

Chapter Two

“What?”
  I shook my head
.
“We didn’t raise Sunny up to be no
crook
.”

“I know you didn’t, Ms. Crumb.”  She had her head down again and wouldn’t look at me.

“What makes you think Sunny would steal?”

She still wouldn’t look up
.
“She’s different since she’s been hanging with Al.”

“Different how?”

Again with the shoulder lift
.
“Like I said before, Al’s all she cares about
.
She wants to be like Al…wants to look like her, dress like her,
d
o the same kinda stuff Al does
.
She thinks Al is so cool.”

“What about you?” I asked
.
“Do you think Al’s cool?”

She shook her head.

“What kind of stuff does Al do?”

“She runs with high-school boys…reads trashy books…stuff like that.”  She finally looked up at me
.
“Sometimes I see her out in the hall when she’s supposed to be in class, and sometimes she smells like smoke.”

“If she’s out in the hall when she ought to be in class, maybe she’s the one who’s stealing things.”

“Maybe.”

“Then what makes you think it’s Sunny?”

“I saw her with a clarinet the day after that one was stolen from the band room.”

DIVIDER HERE

When I got home, I was pooped
.
Not just from doin’ an honest day’s work—and a free one at that—but I was tired
emotionally
, too
.
I hadn’t talked with Officer Brody about what Claire had said
.
I wasn’t ready to do that yet
.
Besides, just because Claire saw Sunny with a clarinet, what did that mean?  There were any number of reasons why Sunny would be carrying around a clarinet
.
Maybe she was holding it for one of her friends who was in the band.

I let Matlock in from the backyard and then I plopped into the recliner by the picture window
.
Mat
lock put his big head in my lap and sighed
.
He always knew when something was going on.

“Remember Sunny’s friend Claire?” I asked him
.
He’d met her once when Sunny brought Claire over for one of our Saturday visits
.
It was rare for her to let anyone else tag along, but she’d really wanted to show off the dog
.
It wasn’t long after I’d adopted Matlock from the pound.

“Well,” I continued, “she now seems to be of the opinion that our little Sunny is a kleptomaniac.”  I stroked his head
.
“I came in a hair tellin’ Officer Brody that I was taking myself off this case
.
I mean, how would it look if poor
little Sunny was brought down b
y her own Mimi?”

Matlock cocked his head like he was giving that some thought.

“On the other hand, if she was stealing, maybe it’d be best if I was the one to uncover it
.
Me and Faye could very quietly give back whatever Sunny took and make things right with the school, and we could get Sunny help if she need
s
it.”  I leaned back, making the recliner’s foot rest pop up
.
Matlock moved his head onto the arm of the chair.
“Because if she’s stealing, it has to be some psychological thing, Matlock, don’t you think?”

I bent over and kissed the top of his head.

“Sunny would
n’t
steal because she needed something, for goodness’ sake
.
What Faye fails to get the young ‘un, I go out and get her myself.”

The whole ordeal was too depressing for Matlock
.
He heaved another big sigh and laid down next to the recliner
.

I’d just closed my eyes and prepared to take a little nap to help me figure things out when I heard the school bus run
.
I got up and went to the front door
.
The bus doesn’t go all the way up into our cul de sac
—no place to turn around—and
I wanted to catch Lenny as he went by.

He saw me standing at the door and threw up his hand.

I opened the door and hollered at him
.
“Lenny, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, could you come over here in a little bit?  I need your help with something.”

“Sure,” he said
.
“I’ll go
put down my backpack and be right back.”

He was true to his word
.
I’d barely got back to the recliner when the doorbell rang
.
He’s a good young ‘un
.
He really is.

“Whatcha need, Ms. Crumb?”  He bent and scratched Matlock behind the ears
.
“I still can’t get over you gettin’ a purebred, housebroke Chocolate Lab at the pound.”

I smiled
.
“He’s been a blessing, that’s for sure
.
Come on in here
to
the kitchen.”

Lenny and Matlock both followed me
.
I told them to sit down, so Lenny
dropped his lanky frame into
a chair and Matlock sat on the floor beside Lenny
.
Matlock’s such a big dog, his butt wouldn’t fit in a kitchen chair no way.

I got down my recipe box
.
“Are you good with figures?”

             
Lenny spread his hands
.
“I get B’s in Algebra.”

             
“That’s good enough for me,” I said
.
“I volunteered at the middle school cafeteria today and was ashamed at what we were dishin’ out to them young ‘uns.”

             
“It is pretty bad sometimes.”

             
Matlock licked his chops
.
Of course, he’ll eat purt near anything.

             
“I can’t fix them a whole meal,” I said, “but tomorrow they’re at least gettin’ some homemade brownies.”

             
“Cool!”

             
“And since you’re gonna help me figure up how much of everything it’ll take to make seven hundred brownies, I’m makin’ you a batch all your own.”

             
“Did you say seven hundred?”

             
I nodded and got out my mixing bowl.

             
“I’m gonna need some paper and a pencil,” he said.

             
By the time the brownies were in the oven, we’d decided that I needed forty-four times what my recipe called for
.
My recipe yielded sixteen brownies; forty-four times that would give us seven hundred and four.

             
I hadn’t really needed Lenny’s help with the figuring; but after we started getting down to the nuts and bolts of it, I was glad I’d had the help.

             
“Where you gonna git all this stuff?” Lenny asked.

             
“At the grocery store.”

             
Now, you know I’m on a fixed income, but I really wanted to do something special for those young ‘uns
.
I realized it was gonna cost me nearly a hundred and fifty dollars and be a heck of a lot of work to make a middle-school-sized batch of brownies
.
I was beginning to understand the “why’s” and “wherefores” of how come lunch in the cafeteria was what it was
.
Still, I figured I could swing a one-time treat
.
I’d put it on my credit card until payday.

             
“How you gonna git all that stuff home?” Lenny asked.

             
“Huh?” I’d been caught up in my own thoughts and hadn’t paid a bit of attention to what he’d said.

             
“Why don’t you let me go with you and help you carry all that stuff?”

             
“All right
.
I’ll check the brownies, and you call Delphine and make sure it’s okay.”
 

             
The brownies were done, and I sat the pan on top of the stove to cool
.
I pushed it to the back in case Matlock got curious while we were gone
.
He never had before, but brownies can be awfully tempting…especially mine.

             
Lenny came back into the kitchen from the living room where he’d gone to call Delphine
.
“She said it’s all right.
She thinks you’re crazy for makin’ seven hundred brownies, but she’s lettin’ me go with you.
”

             
“Good.”  I kissed Matlock on top of the head
again
.
“
You be a good boy.
We’ll have supper when I get back.”

             
Me and Lenny piled into the Buick.
He’s about 6’4”, so his chin was nearly perched on his knees, but I couldn’t move the seat back any and still reach the pedals even though I’m not a short woman by any means
.
By way of apology I said,
“You can listen to whatever you want on the radio
.
Right now it’s tuned to Sunny’s station, but you can change it.”