Authors: Virginia Brown
Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #Contemporary Women, #General
“I imagine she’ll be caught sooner or later. Sometimes it takes years to find felons.”
Rayna kept us up to date on what the police found, fortunately. When she came over the next day to bring us food and news, I was pleased to hear that the police had tracked Sandra as far as Mexico City. She was waiting in a Mexican prison while extradition papers were filed. While the U.S. didn’t have her in custody yet it was only a matter of time.
“You’ll be glad to hear that Mrs. Whitworth is home from the hospital too,” Rayna said after handing Bitty a stack of tabloids. Most had screaming headlines about the murderous spree of a famous Hollywood star. “She’s going to be fine, and her daughter came down from Memphis to take care of her.”
“I’m so relieved to hear that,” I said. “She didn’t deserve what Sandra did to her.”
“No, she didn’t. She’s a feisty old girl, though. She said she’s eager to testify at the trial once they get Sandra extradited.”
“Have charges been filed against Allison Cramer for making those death threats to Dixie Lee?” I asked while Bitty thumbed through tabloids. “Seems to me she should get some kind of punishment for that.”
“She hired a lawyer so probably won’t get anything more than community service. With the money from Billy Joe’s insurance settlement she can afford a good attorney.” Rayna looked over at Bitty and raised her voice. “I heard that Mira’s aunt, Latricia Jones Deakins came into a little bit of money too. It seems some anonymous person sent a cashier’s check for five thousand dollars and a gross of pink barrettes to the Deakins family.”
Bitty ignored her, continuing to thumb through the tabloids. I grinned at Rayna, and she grinned back at me. Despite her flaws Bitty really does care about people. She may carry grudges and have an acid tongue at times, but she’s basically a good person.
“The police found your gun when they pulled your car out of the lake, Bitty,” Rayna said, capturing Bitty’s attention at last.
She looked up at her. “They’re not going to keep it again, are they?”
“You know they are. It’s evidence for Sandra’s trial. Ballistics had to match bullets found at the house. The trial’s going to be held down in Lee County after Sandra is extradited since her attorney has already said she can’t get a fair trial here.”
Bitty sounded grim when she said, “They may be right about that.”
“Are you going to get another BMW since your other one was totaled?” I asked to change the subject.
“Probably. Maybe I can find one that floats.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “Maybe you should just get an SUV and a driver. That sounds much simpler and cheaper. I hear there are a few drivers out of work now that the movie people have gone back to California.”
“Do you know that they’re going to release the movie after all?” Rayna said, and I stared at her as if she had two heads.
“What? How can they? I mean, they weren’t finished filming yet, and one of their biggest stars is a fugitive. How can they do that?”
“Most of Sandra’s scenes were already ‘in the can’ as the saying goes, and they can work around those that aren’t. Since all the publicity about her murderous rampage the producers felt it’d be a good box office draw. Go figure.”
“I’m sure Rob is happy that the movie won’t lose a lot of money. I’m still shocked they intend to release it.”
“Well, they’re rushing it to ride the wave of publicity, but it will still be a while before it comes out. And you’re right; the underwriters are very pleased it’s not going to lose a ton of money.”
“Rayna dear,” Bitty piped up, “would you be so kind as to bring us some of the sweet tea from the pitcher on the refrigerator door?”
“Of course. I can refresh your glasses for you.”
As Rayna went off with our empty glasses I looked over at Bitty. “Does she know this is your special tea?”
Bitty smiled. “She will if she decides to pour herself a glass, too.”
Since her “special tea” is sold in the liquor stores, vodka mixed with sweet tea, it’s not exactly a PG-rated drink. It is, however, quite delicious for convalescing Divas who are through taking their prescription medications. There’s a lot to be said for modern pharmacology and fusion drinks.
Rayna came back with three glasses of tea. After serving us, she sat down on an ottoman and took a long swallow from her glass. Her eyes got big and she choked a little, so we knew she enjoyed it.
We whiled away a pleasant afternoon discussing events that had been superseded by the murders, and I learned that Miranda Watson had a boyfriend, a man from over in Potts Camp who was apparently quite smitten with her. I was sure we’d one day read about it in her gossip column for
The South Reporter
. Jackson Lee’s big case had been settled at last—in favor of his client, of course—and he planned to take Bitty off somewhere secret for a vacation as soon as she completely recovered. Rob Rainey was back to working full-time in his insurance and bail bonds business so Rayna had some free time to devote to her paintings. And we had a Diva Day set up for the following week, to be held at the Delta Inn with Rayna as our hostess.
“I have a wonderful surprise,” she said, smiling goofily after her third glass of spiked tea, “so be sure to come prepared to laugh.”
“Don’t we always?” Bitty asked.
If only we had known beforehand just what Rayna had planned, perhaps we both would have stayed home.
THERE ARE MOMENTS in our lives when laughter is a healthy thing. I say that only because I’m supposed to be a good sport. It was very difficult, however, when all the Divas were convulsed with laughter, and Bitty and I could only manage a few smiles.
Somehow Rayna had secured a copy of the bloopers reel from the movie. I don’t know who she had to bribe or how much she had to pay, but I do know I would have paid more just to get it and burn it. Oh, we laughed at first, watching actors flub their lines, make faces, and fall over props. That was funny.
Then it got to the scene where Bitty had tried to make her acting debut in Booker’s Hardware Store. I slid lower in my seat, appalled as I watched us enter the hardware store and hit our marks by the butter churns, Number 8 washtubs, and cast iron skillet display. Buck, playing his role as Billy Joe, came into the store next and walked toward us. Bitty turned, dramatically clutched her chest, and I looked like a startled Sasquatch as I leaped backward and fell into one of the washtubs. My hat slid over my face, my skirt was somewhere up around my thighs, and I had grabbed the handle of a butter churn on my way down. I looked quite silly waving it above my head like I was trying to swat a piñata. I did take some comfort in watching Bitty sprawl against the iron skillet display and gave her points for a graceful descent as she took out the entire stock. Watching it the first time was excruciating enough; then Rayna replayed it in slow motion as Divas laughed hysterically.
Bitty muttered something unintelligible as she splashed more Jack Daniel’s into her glass. I wished I had a bigger glass of wine. Sixteen ounces was not going to be enough.
Fortunately, that scene was finally bypassed when I leaned closer to Rayna and said, “I’ll give you fifty dollars to stop the replay.”
The blooper reel moved on, and at last I heaved a sigh of relief that our brief fling at being Hollywood stars was behind us. Several more scenes played on Rayna’s 60-inch flatscreen, some with Sandra as Darcy, others with Mira playing Susana. They flubbed their lines, laughed, tried again; a cameraman didn’t get out of the way quickly enough so paused to make a face at the camera as Simon Donato yelled, “Cut!”
The camera panned across the square, showing the courthouse and traffic, moving from a scene with Buck and Mira to a view of Memphis Street. It went slightly out of focus for a brief moment, then sharpened, and I saw Bitty chugging along on my daddy’s John Deere. I didn’t believe it for a moment. Surely they hadn’t filmed that?
But then I saw her suddenly jerk as the mower took off, plowing toward the court house as she frantically tried to turn it. There she was in her disguise, wearing my daddy’s hat tied to her head with his wool scarf, his oversize boots on her feet, and his plaid jacket buttoned up almost to her neck, wearing expensive designer sunglasses and tooling around the court house lawn. It could have been a scene from a Tim Burton movie, one like
Edward Scissorhands
. I wouldn’t have been a bit surprised to see Johnny Depp appear. Instead, Bitty ran down hedges and flowerbeds, lurching around the court house like a drunken dragon, spewing fire and smoke behind her. Movie people scattered as she swerved around to bounce over the curb and take out cables snaking across the street. Buck Prentiss leaped for safety to the sidewalk, jerking Mira with him. There was a lot of yelling, mostly by the movie people. I recognized Simon’s booming voice directing crew to take up cables before they were cut to pieces.
Divas laughed hysterically. I even began to snicker a bit, since I’d missed the parts where Bitty terrorized half the town. Just as I was really getting into the insanity, my car appeared on the TV. I froze. Had they filmed everything? Surely they stopped filming in here somewhere?
But no. The camera crew captured every moment of the debacle, including when I had to jump into the bush to keep from being run down. I looked ridiculous. There I was in my work clothes, nice slacks and sweater, a light jacket, and low-heeled pumps, flailing about in a nandina. It was embarrassing. And it didn’t get better. It filmed right up until Rodney Farrell arrived and Bitty ran toward my car, all hunched over and hiding behind bushes until she was able to get in my back seat. At least that mystery was solved. She wasn’t Houdini. Just faster than I thought she could move in only one of my daddy’s boots. She carried the other one tucked under her arm.
There were other bloopers as well, but I don’t think my loyal friends even noticed. They were too busy shrieking with laughter and pounding on tables and floor as they rolled about the lobby. I took the high road. I pretended not to notice.
Bitty, however, stood straight up and put both hands on her hips. “Stop it,” she said. “For your information I was still delirious from my concussion.”
That was a lie and we all knew it, but since we love her we pretended to believe it. Cindy Nelson said, “Oh B-b-bitty, honey, I’m s-s-sorry you felt b-b-bad.” That was all she could get out before she collapsed into giggles again.
Gaynelle said something along the lines of, “I should have worn Depends. I think I wet myself.”
Carolann didn’t even try to hide her hysteria. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she gasped for air so loudly it sounded like an asthma attack. I was in no mood to offer assistance. I gulped down more wine.
Bitty said, “Well, I see you’re all having a wonderful time at my expense.”
Still snorting with laughter, Rayna said, “Oh, Bitty. What if I told you I had no idea that was on this blooper DVD?”
Bitty stared at her a moment. Then she said flatly, “I’d say you were lying.”
Rayna giggled. “Well, yes, I would be, but would it make you feel better for me to say it?”
“Give it up, Bitty,” I said. “At least we’ve provided our friends with a good laugh.”
Bitty sighed. “Okay. But I want this DVD destroyed as soon as it’s finished.”
“Destroyed?” echoed Gaynelle. “You’re kidding. Rayna made us all our own copies.”
I thought Bitty was going to have a come-apart right there. Her face got red, her eyes bugged out, and I could swear little puffs of smoke emanated from both her ears. I knew how she felt. Maybe I’m just more pragmatic. I took my DVD home with me.
At least it gave my parents a lot of joy in their declining years. I’ve never seen my daddy laugh that hard, and I’ve known him all my life. I stood by with nitroglycerin pills and a phone ready to dial 911 just in case.
There are times, I discovered to my chagrin, when what happens with the Divas doesn’t always stay with the Divas. There are times when Divas
do
tell. Who knew?
(Please continue reading for more information about Virginia Brown)
About Virginia Brown
As a long-time resident of Mississippi, award-winning author Virginia Brown has lived in several different areas of the state, and finds the history, romance, and intrigue of the Deep South irresistible. Although having spent her childhood as a “military brat” living all over the US, and overseas, this author of nearly fifty novels is now happily settled in and drawing her favorite fictional characters from the wonderful, whimsical Southerners she has known and loved.
Table of Contents
Lights! Camera! Murder! Trinket and the gang, beware!