“Sounds wonderful.” She could almost taste their famous blueberry pancakes. She glanced at the large round kitchen clock and was shocked to see it was nearly nine.
“I didn’t think I had slept much, but apparently I got more sleep than I realized.” No wonder her stomach grumbled.
“Shall we go for a run this morning first? She realized he had on his running shorts, and was ready to go. No wonder she hadn’t heard the shower. He hadn’t been in there yet.
“Be ready in a few.” She swallowed the last of the coffee and headed for the bedroom to change.
* * *
Rhetta was glad that Randolph had persuaded her to run. Although she initially wanted to give in and be lazy, she was exhilarated after four miles along the park trails.
She finished dressing, picking yellow Capris and a white embroidered tee, and fed the cats while waiting for Randolph to shower. He emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a bath towel, and headed into the dressing room. He came out wearing crisp chinos and a white golf shirt. He left his hair to air dry, and picked up his phone and keys.
“How about I drive Ricky’s truck and you follow me to The Venue? That way, I can run it over to her on the way back, and you can follow me to her house,” Rhetta said, swinging her purse over her shoulder and grabbing a pair of sunglasses on her way to the driveway. She chose a practical pair of white leather sandals since she’d be driving a stick shift, and didn’t want her heels to get stuck on the floor mat.
“I need to swing by the gallery for a few hours today, so why don’t I go there after brunch, then I’ll pick you up later at Ricky’s? You two ladies can gab for a bit, can’t you?”
* * *
“Something’s been bothering me about the shooting at the Griffith cabin,” Rhetta said, returning to their table with plates from the food bar.
“You mean besides someone trying to take your life?” Randolph set his fork down, and reached for his coffee.
“That’s just it, I’m trying to figure out who and why.”
“Not sure about either, but perhaps Frizz was partially right in that it may have been someone local whose shot went wide.” He resumed working on his pancakes.
“You think someone may have been upstairs in the cabin and just wanted to run us off? Wouldn’t shouting ‘get off my property’ accomplish the same thing without the possibility of bloodshed?” She said that a bit too loudly. A young couple at the next table stopped eating and gawked at Rhetta. “No, I think whoever shot at us meant to hurt us. But I can’t figure out who the person with the .38 was. The more I think about it, I think it was Mylene Allard. After all, we did see her car. I think she’s a killer out to get me.” The young couple stood, looked around and then left.
Randolph chewed a large mouthful of pancakes and swallowed. Before he responded, he gulped down his coffee. “No. You saw a red car. I didn’t see anything. I was too busy hanging on for my life when you took off.” When she started to protest, he held up his hand, which clutched a fork dripping with pancake syrup. “You saw a red sports car, that’s it. You also saw someone carrying a .38. We don’t know if these two things are connected. It’s a big leap to accuse Mylene Allard. Besides, why would she be skulking around the shed? And why was she carrying a .38 and what happened to the rifle?” He displayed two fingers. “I don’t think Mylene Allard was the one who shot at you with a rifle. I think there were two people out there.”
“Two? Who else could there be? That’s the worst part. I can’t rationalize any of this, or put any pieces together.” Rhetta worked her brain, trying to complete the puzzle. There had to be some missing pieces. “Does this have anything to do with Jeremy’s death or is it all a bad coincidence?”
Randolph dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. “When did you start believing in coincidences?”
“Exactly.”
Chapter 56
Randolph climbed into the Artmobile, which had the trailer hooked to it. Before he could leave the parking lot, a man approached him and he climbed out of the truck to chat. Rhetta waved at him as she steered Ricky’s truck around them to the exit. Traffic was light on William Street, so she made it to Gordonville in less than ten minutes. She slowed diligently as she passed the firehouse, spotting the constable’s car in the driveway. As she did, a red sports car rocketed past her. Rhetta cringed, knowing the constable would pull out and give chase.
That didn’t happen. The constable must have taken the day off. The sports car continued racing through town. She realized with a jolt who went flying past. Mylene Allard. Again. This time, Rhetta wanted to make sure she wouldn’t get away. Feeling safe from the cops, she floored Ricky’s truck and fell in way behind the car.
As before, she chased the Viper, but again, with no luck. By the time Ricky’s clunker truck made it to the top of the hill, there was no Viper to be seen anywhere. Rhetta couldn’t spot any dust clouds on either of the two gravel roads. Mylene must’ve continued along the paved road, but was too far ahead to catch.
Crap. Rhetta thumped the steering wheel in frustration. Instead of chasing Mylene, she turned left down Ricky’s gravel road. In a minute she pulled into the driveway.
Ricky was in the shop, so Rhetta parked the truck near the house and jogged over to see her. Sure enough, Ricky wasn’t wearing a sling. She did, however, still have the arm wrapped.
Ricky limped toward Rhetta, holding up her injured arm. “Good thing it’s not broken.”
Rhetta frowned at Ricky and looked pointedly at the arm. “Shouldn’t that be in a sling?’
“No, it’s gonna be fine,” Ricky said and wiggled the fingers on the injured arm. “See? No pain.”
“Right. And how many painkillers did you take this morning?’
“None, I swear. Cross my heart.” She followed that with a heart-crossing gesture that landed closer to her stomach than her heart.
“That’s not your heart, but that’s all right. I’m just glad you’re doing good. What about the ankle?”
Ricky held out her bandaged ankle for Rhetta’s inspection. “It’s not even sprained. Just bruised.” She glanced behind Rhetta. “Where’s Randolph? Is he coming to get you? I’m not supposed to drive for a couple of days.”
“He wanted to go by the gallery for a bit. He’ll come by later and pick me up.” Rhetta strolled around the bright red two-seater on the lift. She couldn’t tell exactly what it was. She peered under it. “Did you find anything suspicious in this car?”
“No, thank God. Once in a lifetime is all anyone needs.” Ricky joined Rhetta and they both inspected it. “This jewel belongs to a man in Jackson, by the name of P. Body Shuttleworth. He collects muscle cars, but doesn’t show them. This one’s a ’69 Shelby Cobra 427. It’s worth a ton of money. He wants me to make sure it’s road sound. He just bought it at Mecum’s Auction, and he actually wants to drive it. This is one hot little beast.” They burst into a duet of Hey Little Cobra and soon both were doubled over laughing.
When Rhetta composed herself, she said, “Did you say Peabody Shuttleworth? That’s his real name?” Rhetta dabbed her eyes, and began snickering again. His unusual name started another fit of giggles.
Ricky nodded, and wrestled a tissue around to wipe her eyes. “He spells it P period, Body then Shuttleworth.”
“Whew, there’s a man oughta hate his momma.” They laughed again. When their snickering finally subsided, Rhetta asked, “Speaking about mothers, that reminds me. Have you heard any news from Anjanette Spears about the funeral service for Jeremy?”
Ricky went from laughter to anger. “No, I haven’t heard a word from her. I read his obituary in the paper. It said visitation will be tomorrow, and the funeral will be Tuesday at the First Christian Church on Broadway.” Ricky held her chin up, and took a deep breath. “I’m not going.”
Rhetta patted Ricky’s good hand. “I totally understand, and I don’t blame you. I’m definitely not going either.”
Rhetta could sense that Ricky was beginning to fad
e. “Hey, girlfriend, how about let’s take Monster for a ride? I’m missing Cami so much. I need to feel the wind in my hair in a real muscle car.”
Ricky brightened. “Sure, but you have to drive. I have an injured wing, so I won’t be able to shift very well.”
Rhetta rubbed her hands together gleefully. “Woo-hoo, let’s go!”
Ricky led Rhetta around her shop to the side garage where she kept her Trans Am, instead of cutting through the third bay area.
“How come we have to go the long way around?” Rhetta grumbled, as she stopped to wipe dust off her sandals. Somehow, a smudge of something dark found its way to her pant leg. She fervently hoped it wasn’t grease. She swiped at it with her hand and was relieved to see that it brushed it off so she smiled and followed Ricky. It wasn’t grease.
“Come on Rhetta. Monster is waiting,” Ricky said and laughed as Rhetta worked on getting rid of whatever was on her pant leg. “You’re just too dressy for a garage. You need to wear coveralls if you’re going to hang around here very much.”
“I still have the ones you gave me when we were working on Cami a few years ago,” Rhetta said. “I don’t wear them for anything, so they’re almost new.” She wrinkled her nose. “They aren’t exactly a fashion statement. Besides, it’s Sunday, and Randolph and I had brunch at The Venue before I came over here.” She slapped at another spot on her thigh.
“That may be so, but overalls sure save wear and tear on decent clothes.”
“I wouldn’t need them if we’d have just cut across that bay,” Rhetta said, pointing toward a bay containing a car concealed under a car cover.
Rhetta stopped, remembering what Woody had told her about a Camaro being in Ricky’s shop. She couldn’t be sure what this car was under the tarp. She began to veer off toward the bay. Was this the mystery Camaro that Woody saw? Maybe she’d peek under the cover.
The familiar roar of the LS1 engine in Monster called to her. Ricky had continued ahead of her and fired up the Trans Am. The throaty rumble settled in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t conceal her excitement. She left the hidden car for another time.
Ricky was standing by the overhead door while Monster throbbed in the garage. “I’ll close the door,” Ricky said. “You get in and back her out.”
Rhetta slid behind the wheel and grasped the T-shaped shifter. It vibrated gently, previewing the power about to unleash when Monster slid into gear. Rhetta grinned in satisfaction. She loved these cars. It made her miss Cami even more. Her Camaro had the same LS1 and four speed transmission as Monster, although Ricky had tinkered with her own car to deliver a few more horsepower than Cami. Rhetta decided she wanted her Z28 to feel like this. Gas prices be damned.
Rhetta guided the glossy black car out of the garage and waited as Ricky locked up the shop. Rhetta caressed the top of the dash. Surely Ricky didn’t really want to sell this beauty? Maybe she should try to buy it instead of waiting on the Z28 that she might never get back from the sheriff’s department. However, she didn’t like black cars, and the interior, although of a beautiful tan leather, wasn’t her taste, either. This was tomboy Ricky’s car, through and through. She decided she’d wait for her Z28.
“All right, sister, let’s hit it,” Ricky proclaimed as she buckled into the passenger seat. “Let’s see if you remember how to drive a real car!”
Rhetta gave her two thumbs up, then eased the shifter into first and spit gravel against the metal shed as she roared away.
The T-tops were still on, so Rhetta reached for the controls to turn on the air.
“Sorry, no A/C today,” Ricky said. “Remember? I took it all out, so the car would run better. Ditched all that anti-pollution junk, too, so the car can breathe and run faster.” Ricky reached to the console and pressed the switch to slide down the electric windows. “Let’s do the 270 air thing today. Two windows down and seventy miles an hour.” She grinned at Rhetta.
When Ricky said it, Rhetta remembered. Neither speed, efficiency nor the promise of better gas mileage would convince her not to have AC in her Z28. No negotiating there.
“Let’s go into town and get an Andy’s frozen custard,” Ricky suggested when they stopped at the four way stop sign where Ricky’s county road met the highway. “My treat.” A right turn and they’d be on their way to town. Rhetta turned left.
“No ice cream?” Ricky asked, sounding a little disappointed.
“Can we do that on the way home?” Rhetta shifted effortlessly. Monster responded obediently as Rhetta aimed it down the highway away from town, and toward Whispering Oaks.
And the barn from hell.
Chapter 57
“Where are we going? Like I don’t know,” Ricky lamented, answering herself. “Are you a glutton for punishment? Why on earth are we going to the damned barn?” Ricky folded her arms across her chest and shook her head. “This day started out to be fun. Please, Rhetta. Turn around.”
“I’ll turn around if this upsets you.” Rhetta eased off on to the shoulder of County Road 811. Monster rumbled, but the silence inside the cab was louder than the car. Eventually, Ricky said, “You go to that barn again, Randolph will divorce you and then shoot you on the way out of court, just for good measure.”
Rhetta ignored her protests. “Earlier, when I was on my way to your place with your truck, I spotted a red Viper heading this way. I tried, but I couldn’t keep up, and lost sight of the car. Your old truck doesn’t get up much thrust. Not like this baby.” She patted the dash. “Or like Cami. Anyhow, I wondered if it was Mylene and why she’d be going to the barn. I just wanted to drive by, that’s all. If we see her car there, we’ll call the cops, okay?”
“Mylene? Why didn’t you say so? We’re wasting time sitting on the side of the road!” Ricky leaned forward. “How long ago did you say it was that you saw her? Do you have your .38?”
“No, I don’t have the gun, but I wouldn’t dare try to do anything anyway. We’ll drive by, that’s all.” Rhetta held up her palm in emphasis. “We need to let the cops know if we see her car. Even if she sees this car, she won’t know who it is. I saw her zoom past me in Gordonville before I got to your place, so she may not be anywhere around. But if she’s there, we’ll call the cops.”
“Let’s go, then,” Ricky said, and re-buckled her seat belt. She’d unfastened it when they’d stopped.
Rhetta arrowed toward Whispering Oaks.
“Do you think Mylene is the murderer?” Ricky asked, as Rhetta made the transition from smooth blacktop road to gravel county road. A plume of grey dust rose skyward like a heavy rooster tail behind them as they raced along the chat road.
“I don’t see who else it could be. I can think of all kinds of reasons she wanted both of them dead. But why does she keep coming back over here? What’s she looking for? That’s what I can’t figure out.”
Rhetta slowed, then stopped alongside the entryway. She spotted two vehicles parked near the barn—a brilliant red Viper and a pickup truck. Rhetta squinted at the truck, and called out the letters on the license plate. “A-D-E-L-E.”
“Holy Smokes,” Ricky shouted, leaning forward, peering through the windshield. “That’s Adele Griffith’s truck. That means she’s in there with Mylene. Adele could be in danger, even if Mylene is her daughter. What do you suppose they’re doing there?”
Rhetta maneuvered off the road and onto the shoulder across from the driveway. She fumbled in her purse until she found her cell phone. She punched 9-1-1. Nothing. She glanced at the phone—one bar of service and the word “searching” scrolling across the top of the screen. “Crap. No service here. What about your phone? Can you get any service?”
“I didn’t bring my purse, or my phone,” Ricky said. “I only have my keys. I locked my purse inside the garage,” Ricky jangled her keys at Rhetta. “I didn’t think I’d need anything. All I have is some money in my pocket. What should we do?”
Rhetta dropped her forehead on to the steering wheel. “Let me think. I just don’t kno
w.” She popped back up. “Wait, maybe we can drive to someone’s house and call from there?” She swiveled her head around in search. There were no houses as far as she could see. She didn’t remember seeing any for a couple of miles back as they drove in. This part of the county was sparsely populated. Most of the area was devoted to corn and cattle.
Rhetta slid the shifter into reverse, backed quickly, and then turned into the driveway.
“Are we going up there?” Ricky’s eyes widened.
“If anything bad is happening, just hearing us pull up might stop things from getting worse.” That sounded pretty lame, even to Rhetta.
“Things like what?” Ricky didn’t sound as though she really wanted to know what things.
Within seconds, the Trans Am rumbled to a stop several yards from the barn. Both women listened for sounds from the barn. They heard nothing but the steady rumble from the Monster.
“I’m going to go around to the side and try to look in,” Rhetta whispered.
“Why are we whispering?”
Rhetta rolled her eyes and put her index fingers to her lips in a quieting motion. “We should be as quiet as we can. No telling what’s going on there.”
“Like they couldn’t hear this Trans Am as it snuck in? Right,” Ricky whispered. “Oh, God, unless they’re both dead!” Ricky seemed to realize what she said and stuffed her fist into her mouth. “This is the barn of death. Let’s get out of here. You said we’d call the cops and I think that’s what we need to do.” Her voice began rising.
“Calm down. You’re going to alert them we’re here. Shhh.” Rhetta had started out of the car, but turned back to Ricky. “Do you think you can drive enough to get out of here? That way if they see the car leave, they’ll just think someone was turning around. I’m going to stay here and see if I can stop Mylene from hurting her mother. I’ll tell her the deputies are on their way. Now, go call the cops!”
Ricky nodded. “I can do that. Let me have your phone and as soon as I get a signal I’ll call them.” Rhetta tossed Ricky her cell phone. Rhetta scrambled out and Ricky limped to the driver’s side, and slid in. Rhetta ran to the barn and flattened herself against the side as Ricky quickly turned the car around and roared down the lane.