Rhetta steered around the panel van from the Cape television station. She recognized the cameraman/newsman as the one who’d been to her office interviewing Woody about low mortgage rates last spring. He was one of the “stringers” that the Cape station sent out to cover Paducah and Southern Illinois. Those areas are part of the Cape Girardeau viewing and advertising reach, since they were within a hundred mile radius as the crow flies. She waved as she went by. He smiled and gave her a thumbs-up as he rolled the camera on her departure. She decided to call Randolph and warn him that she might appear on the evening news. Again.
* * *
Luckily, Randolph didn’t answer his phone before the voice mail picked up. Rhetta left him a short message summing up their Paducah trip. “I’ll tell you all about it tonight, Sweets. The good news is that we got Ricky’s money back and we didn’t get arrested.” She clicked the left turn signal as she pulled out from the Wendy’s Restaurant where they had picked up lunch at the drive-through.
Rhetta wolfed down her two plain chicken wraps, and sipped an icy Diet Coke. She envied Ricky who scarfed two cheeseburgers with fries and a chocolate milkshake. Ricky never worried about her weight. Rhetta sighed.
“How’s your back?” Rhetta asked as she eased into traffic. “You took quite a fall trying to save that baby.”
Ricky rubbed the small of her back. “I’ll probably be black and blue tomorrow, but I’m okay.”
“That was quite a production back there, but at least the manager gave you your money.”
“I really owe you for this, Rhetta. I can’t believe I was bullied into sending the money in the first place.”
“Kris Williams with First News out of Cape said they wanted to do a story with us about the eBay scam.” Rhetta stopped for a red light. “I think it might help expose both eBay and Craigslist scammers. I’m all for it.”
“I’ll let you be the one on TV, Rhetta. I don’t want to be high profile with Jeremy’s death still hanging out there.” Ricky turned her attention to the side window.
Rhetta thought she caught a tear sneaking down Ricky’s cheek. She reached across the seat and squeezed her hand. “On second thought, let’s not either one of us do anything on TV.”
After a few seconds, Rhetta asked, “When is Jeremy’s funeral?
Ricky shook her head. “I still don’t know. I think the coroner will notify Anjanette when they release his body. Might be a few more days.”
Rhetta patted her friend’s hand.
Ricky’s head swiveled sideways as she glanced out the side window. “I don’t remember coming in this way. Are we lost?” She scanned the mostly commercial area. “None of this looks familiar.”
“I think we can go out this way,” Rhetta answered. They headed down a one-way street directly toward the elaborately painted floodwall along the river that reminded her of the one in Cape Girardeau. She turned left on Water then another left on Jefferson. “I’ll pull into that parking lot over there and re-configure the GPS.” Making a right turn landed them in the parking lot at the National Quilt Museum.
Rhetta re-set the GPS, then paused to admire the building. “Wow, I guess I never realized that the National Quilt Museum was in Paducah. My mother had several quilts belonging to my grandmother. I still have them.” She had them packed in tissue paper inside a camelback trunk she’d bought at Annie Laurie’s Antiques in Cape. Thinking about the precious hand-made quilts made her want to get into the trunk and caress them again. When she buried her head in a fold, she swore she could still smell the sweet lingering lavender fragrance that her mother wore.
Rhetta put Streak in gear, adjusted her seat belt and cut across the parking lot to exit on Jefferson, heading west. Just as she passed the side of the two-story sprawling compound that was bordered by a perfectly manicured lawn edged in reproduction gas lamps, she spotted a large sign near the entrance to the building. It announced the dates for the upcoming National Quilt Show next spring. The show’s theme, written in two-foot-high blue lettering read, “Gone Quilting!”
Chapter 40
Rhetta braked hard, then slammed Streak into reverse.
“What’s wrong?” Ricky asked as she gripped the entry bar over the door to keep from sliding off the seat. She was in the process of fastening her seat belt when Rhetta stopped abruptly.
“I think I know where Mylene Allard might be.” Rhetta dug her phone out of her purse and dialed Mylene’s number. It went directly to an automated message stating the number was not a working number. “Just as I thought. Her cell phone in Illinois is disconnected. She placed a sign on The Pink Peacock that said ‘Gone Quilting.’ That was a message.”
Ricky scooted back up on her seat and pointed to the museum sign. “That’s what this sign says.”
“Right. ‘Gone Quilting’ means she’s here in Paducah. Locals in Illinois or Missouri probably wouldn’t understand the significance, but folks who know Mylene, like her regular customers will understand what it means. She put up that innocent sounding message to tell anyone looking for her where she is! I bet she’s lived here in Paducah all along, perhaps shuttling back and forth between The Pink Peacock and a business or her home here. And I’ll just bet the business really does involve drugs. That Viper I saw in the parking lot had to be hers. Those babies aren’t cheap. Now that I think about the personalized plate that said MYVPR, it wasn’t an Illinois plate. There was a stylized running horse across the top of it. That’s a Kentucky plate. And MY could mean either “my,” as possessive or M-Y as in the first two letters of Mylene.” She slapped her forehead. “We need to find her.”
“Oh, no. No, no, no.” Ricky threw up her hand in a palm-out stopping motion. You just finished telling me what happened the last time you found her. Do you want to try again to get arrested, this time in Kentucky? This afternoon and the Shop ’n’ Save wasn’t enough? Randolph will kill you.”
“Okay, you’re right, but I bet we can find her car. That Viper should be easy to spot. We can at least tell the Cape authorities where to look for her, just in case they start acting like cops and pursuing another suspect in their investigation.”
Ricky sat back against the seat and closed her eyes. “Besides me, you mean.” She opened her eyes and stared earnestly at Rhetta. “Where do you suggest we start?”
“Paducah isn’t any bigger than Cape, so I bet if we cruise around downtown, we’ll find her.” Rhetta hoped she sounded more confident that she felt.
“Sure, that’s a good plan. I wonder how many bars are in Paducah?”
“Wait a sec, maybe she won’t be in the city limits. I don’t know, but I bet Paducah is like Cape and doesn’t allow pole dancing and all-night drinking. Let’s go back through Mayfield and Wickliffe. More than likely she’ll be on the outskirts somewhere.”
Ricky swallowed the last of her soda, and tossed the empty into the small trashcan Rhetta kept on the back seat floorboard. “Let’s do this.”
* * *
Back out on Jefferson, Rhetta headed west. She was concentrating on the GPS directions and watching for road sign markers, when Ricky said, “Hey, look over there. It’s a topless bar, and the sign says they feature pole dancing and lap dancing.”
“So much for my theory about topless bars not being allowed within the Paducah city limits.” Rhetta swerved to the curb. The place wasn’t open yet, but the outside seemed pretty seedy-looking. They could assume the worst for the interior. She pulled into the parking lot and headed for the back of the brown, shingle-sided converted house. No cars back there either. “This one is about as ratty-looking as the Peacock. But no Viper.” She parked Streak and grabbed her iPhone. “I’m going to Google strip clubs in Paducah and see what I get.” She tapped her phone. Within seconds a list appeared. “There are five listed here,” she said, handing the phone to Ricky. “Call out the addresses and I’ll put them into the GPS.”
Once all five were programmed, Rhetta calculated that four of them were within a twenty-block radius. The fifth w
as at the west edge of town. They’d already eliminated the one they were at, since there was no red Viper in the parking lot. That left three in town and one outside town.
“What if Mylene Allard isn’t driving the Viper today? Does that mean we have to double back and actually go inside those places? ” Ricky shook her head. “I’m no prude, but I’m not going in any of them to ask about her, and neither are you.” She folded her hands across her chest.
“I have no intentions of going in any of them either.” She couldn’t look at Ricky because she knew that was a bald-faced lie and Ricky would be able to tell from her shifty eyes that she was lying. “If we see the car, we get the heck away from Paducah. And let the cops in Cape deal with talking to her somehow.”
Ricky nodded enthusiastically.
Rhetta began planning a way to talk Ricky into going in if they found the car.
None of the remaining downtown establishments had a red Viper in the parking areas. Some had other vehicles, but no super-hot sports car.
“I kinda hope I get to see the car close up,” Ricky said. “I’ve only seen two ever, and those were at the River Tales Car Show in Cape last year. A doctor owned one, and a dentist owned the other one. And they had them corded off so we, the peasants, couldn’t get too close.”
Rhetta detoured into a nearby Dairy Queen, stopped and studied her GPS. “I think I know how to get over to the last one when we leave. What did you tell me the name of the place is?” She pulled to the drive-up. “Besides, I need a Dilly Bar.”
Ricky studied the list she had copied from Rhetta’s phone on to a napkin. “The Pink Partridge.”
“That has to be it.” Rhetta said, paying for their treats. After carefully removing the paper from the frozen bar, Rhetta aimed Streak for The Pink Partridge. The GPS indicated it was about five miles from where they were at the Dairy Queen. Rhetta gulped her ice cream. Her adrenalin kicked in, and she began to sweat. Maybe I’ll sweat off these calories. She didn’t turn the air on high.
Ricky put her window down. “First you get me ice cream I gorge so fast I have brain freeze, and now you’re turning Streak into a sauna. What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” Rhetta said, and switched on the air and fan. She’d run an extra mile in the morning.
By the time they caught sight of the two-story Victorian style home with a wrought iron double gate entryway bearing a rather elaborate pink partridge on each gate, Streak’s cab temperature was back down to beef hanging range. Rhetta stopped in front of the closed gate and stared through the iron grille toward the elegant home. A circular driveway wound around an artificial pond with a three-tiered waterfall that tumbled over large boulders. A perfectly manicured lawn fanned out in front of the house, with colorful flowers lining a walkway to the front porch.
“This place looks more like a bed and breakfast than a nightclub, or strip joint.” Rhetta bounced out of the SUV and walked to the gate. Overhead she glimpsed a small camera that swept back and forth, aimed at anyone standing at the gate. A security system. The green light atop the camera indicated it was operating. Great. Now they’d be on Candid Camera at the Partridge.
A simple sign, no bigger than a turkey platter, was mounted on one of the rock wall pillars that supported an iron gate. In flowing script that required being within a foot to read it, the sign read, The Pink Partridge Gentlemen’s Club opens at 7:00 on the first line. The script was appropriately colored partridge pink.
And on the second line: Mylene Allard, Proprietor.
Rhetta returned to her car, giving the camera a jaunty salute as she went past. “I think we just found Mylene Allard’s hideout.”
Chapter 41
Rhetta dropped Ricky at her home, making it back to the office just in time to meet LuEllen, who was in her car, getting ready to leave for the day. They waved as their cars passed each other.
Woody’s Jeep was snugged up to the building. The lights inside the office were on, as were the computer monitors. Rhetta took a deep breath and strode in.
Woody merely nodded as she asked, “Hi, Woody, are you okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” He didn’t turn around from studying his monitor.
“LuEllen said that you weren’t feeling well this morning.”
“That was this morning. I’m fine now.”
He swiveled his chair to look at her, then leaned back so he could point to his monitor. “I see you took Paducah by storm today. Where are you going tomorrow? Things have been pretty quiet in St. Louis lately.” The corners of his mouth twitched upward.
She felt relief wash over her. She hadn’t realized how much she was worried about Woody until this very second. Woody wore a full out grin by the time she reached his desk and joined him in watching streaming video featuring herself and Ricky on Live News at 5. Woody, the newsaholic, had the local television station’s news website up following the story.
Her cell phone barked Randolph’s “Who Let the Dogs Out?” ring tone. She winced as she answered, knowing that he had probably just watched the same coverage on the television news.
“Hi, Sweets.”
“Please don’t tell me you got arrested in Paducah today. Where are you?”
“I didn’t get arrested and I’m in my office. Didn’t you get your voice mail? I didn’t even get a ticket going through Illinois.” Randolph groaned. She was glad they were having this conversation by phone.
“No, I didn’t get any voice mail from you.” He paused a moment. “I just looked and I’m sorry, there was a missed call and message from you. I guess I just didn’t see it. The main reason I’m calling is that I don’t have good news for you. Although, I’m just glad you don’t have more bad news for me.”
Maybe she should’ve waited until she got home to talk to him about the trip to Paducah. But then, it was Randolph who’d called her. He usually didn’t break bad news on the phone. She hoped he hadn’t run over one of the cats. Her heart leapt up her throat and stuck in her windpipe.
“Did you run over one of the cats?”
“What? No, why do you ask? The cats are fine.”
She didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath. She let it out in a long sigh.
“Then what’s the bad news?”
Now it was Randolph’s turn to sound uncomfortable. “The Alexander County State’s Attorney just called.”
Her stomach knotted.
“He said he’d see you in court next week.”
Chapter 42
Rhetta’s stomach lurched. She didn’t have the heart or guts or any other innards strong enough to tell Woody the bad news. She’d wait until morning, after she had a chance to talk it over with Randolph at home. See what their options were. Those being—according to Randolph—bad and worse.
She told Woody, “I’ve had a horrible day, and I’m sore all over. I’m heading home. I suggest you leave too. We’re technically closed, and the phones are on auto answer now, anyway.” The clock read 5:30. She gathered up her briefcase and purse.
“I’m waiting for the Greens to get here. They couldn’t come until after they got off work at five, so they should be here any second.”
Rhetta logged off and shut down her computer. “You have keys, right?”
“Yes.” He answered abruptly as he always did when she mentioned keys. She asked him that regularly now whenever she left before he did. Ever since the time he had hauled several trash bags out and tossed his keys and cell phone into the Dumpster along with the trash. He claimed the keys and phone were in his hand one second and flying out the next, following the trash. He swore a poltergeist had snatched them. He had crawled up and over and into the bin to retrieve his phone and keys, but when he got in, he couldn’t get out. After rooting through God-knows-what and finally finding the keys and phone, he’d been forced to call Jenn to come and get him. And, to bring a ladder. He had to take the Jeep to the car wash the next morning to hose the stench out of the interior.
The Greens, a pleasant-look
ing older couple arrived just as she was leaving. Rhetta asked Woody if he needed anything else, and when he said he didn’t, she left. Just as she aimed the key fob at the door to unlock it, she remembered that her iPhone was on her desk. She returned to the office, muttering to herself about being so forgetful. She heard her generic ring tone as soon as she opened the door. She lurched across the office and snatched it up just in time. The next ring would’ve probably sent the call to voice mail.
“Why didn’t you come on in?”
Rhetta instantly recognized the voice. “I, uh.” Rhetta didn’t know what to say. There were few times in her life that she’d ever been at a loss for words. Apparently, this would be one of them.
“I followed your adventure on the news this evening. My, my, you do get around.”
“We went to Paducah to get Ricky’s money back from a scammer,” Rhetta finally said. Why did she feel like she had to justify why she was in Paducah to Mylene?
“You shouldn’t be trying to find me. That could prove dangerous for you. Leave well enough alone, Rhetta McCarter. I had a soft spot for you when I heard about you finding my father’s remains. I wanted to enlist your help to solve the riddle about my father. I bailed you out of the Cairo hellhole. I’ve changed my mind. Do yourself a favor, and don’t come looking for me anymore, all right? Jeremy is dead. Don’t you be next.”
“What do you know about Jeremy? What—” Rhetta was talking to air. Mylene was gone. The call had been from a blocked number so she couldn’t call her back.
Rhetta stared at the phone. What did she mean, next? Next to die?
Chapter 43
“I don’t know what to make of it, Randolph. Was she threatening me? I want to let the Sheriff’s office sort it out. I’m done with the whole mess. I never should have gotten myself involved.” Rhetta played with her food, then set her fork down. Randolph had surprised her by preparing his trademark meal—home-cooked spaghetti. While she appreciated his kindness in fixing supper, she was too wound up to eat it. She pushed her meal aside. They had taken their plates out to the table on the back deck, and now found themselves surrounded by plaintive felines.