Poor Bill, I thought, smiling to myself. He’d gotten this stricken look on his face when I’d finally gotten around to telling him about my late-night phone call warning me to back off. He shouldered all the blame for letting it slip to Gus during poker that I was hell-bent on finding the real killer. Bill promised to make amends this weekend by taking me out for dinner.
A loud
plop
brought me back to the present with a start. I turned to see Monica holding a foaming bottle of champagne. “This calls for a celebration!” she announced.
“Don’t suppose you got a beer?” Nadine shot the refrigerator a hopeful look.
Nadine was subbing one last time before taking off for Tampa. She was filling in for Tara, whose husband, Mark, was home on leave. Rita had sprung for a getaway for the couple at an exclusive B and B in Charleston.
Monica filled flutes with fizzing champagne, then went to the fridge and pulled out a can of Michelob. “Here you go,” she said. I didn’t miss the covetous glance she gave the tiara perched atop Nadine’s head as she handed her the beer.
“I don’t think you two have been formally introduced,” I said, including both Nadine and Claudia with my statement. “Allow me the honors. Nadine Peterson, meet Claudia Connors Ledeaux. Claudia, meet Nadine. I believe you ladies have a lot in common.”
Nadine popped the top of her Michelob and held the can high. “To Lance Ledeaux, the rat bastard.”
Claudia raised her champagne flute. “To Lance Ledeaux, scumbag. May the rat-bastard scumbag rest in peace.”
“Hear, hear,” the Babes echoed.
“Tonight, y’all, down with dieting,” Connie Sue proclaimed. “No countin’ calories, no talk of fat grams.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Polly, looking bright as a newly minted penny in copper-colored sweats with HOT BABE emblazoned across the front, chinked her glass against Diane’s.
“Mother,” Gloria said with a sigh, “you’ll drink to anything.”
I helped myself to a stuffed mushroom and practically drooled. “Mmm.” Monica had outdone herself, but I’d always suspected she was a Martha Stewart wannabe.
Diane pointed to a tray of bacon-wrapped chicken nuggets. “If those are good, these are to die for.”
Connie Sue sampled one of the chicken nuggets, then rolled her eyes heavenward. “Honey chile, you’re goin’ to have to cough up the recipe. Thacker’s gonna love these babies.”
“How’s Eric doing, honey?” Janine, out of artistic director mode and back to former nurse, asked Megan. “That broken leg of his healing nicely?”
“He’s getting around OK on crutches. Doctor said he’ll be on desk duty another month yet.”
The bangle bracelets on Gloria’s wrist jingled as she reached for a cocktail napkin imprinted with dice. “I bet you’ve been a big help. The two of you seemed to hit it off.”
“Truth is I haven’t seen much of Eric since the play,” Megan admitted. “Seems like Tammy Lynn Snow’s taking real good care of him.”
Polly patted her arm. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head, dear. There’re a lot more fish in the sea. Believe me, I know.”
Pam nibbled a stuffed mushroom. “Megan isn’t worried, Polly. She and Eric were just good friends. Now maybe she’ll have more time to concentrate on her online classes.”
“Oh, Mother.” Megan rolled her eyes in a gesture similar to one Gloria often uses.
“Well, I’m glad this whole mess with Lance is settled once and for all.” Claudia fluffed her new, sassy strawberry blond do. I noticed her nails were freshly manicured and, more important, the sparkle was back in her eyes. “I learned my lesson, but good.”
“And that was?” I prompted.
“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”
“Amen,” we chorused. To my ears, no Baptist choir on Sunday morning ever sounded as sweet.
“Attention, everyone!” I held up my hands for silence. “Besides Claudia’s clean slate, we’ve something else to celebrate.” I waited for quiet, then turned to Janine. “The sheriff informed me the FBI offered a fifty-thousand-dollar reward for information leading directly to the arrest of Gus Smith, alias Guido, ‘the Killer Pimp,’ alias August Smith-son, alias A. G. Hanson, etc., etc. Since cast and crew of
Forever, My Darling
were instrumental in his capture, we’re entitled to the reward.”
“Fifty thousand?” Janine’s eyes widened at the amount.
“That’s right. I’m happy to report that all of us got together this afternoon and voted to donate the entire sum to Pets in Need for a new animal shelter. After all, if it weren’t for you, there never would have been a production—and we might never have found the real killer.”
“Or apprehended a dangerous fugitive,” added my BFF, Pam.
Janine blinked back tears. “I don’t know what to say. . . .”
“I do,” Monica interjected before we all got teary eyed. “Ladies, let’s play bunco.”
We drifted off to find our places. I ended up sharing a table with Claudia, Nadine, and Polly.
“Say, Claudia, I’ve been wondering,” Polly said with elaborate casualness, “Lance Ledeaux? That his real name?”
“Nope.” Nadine burped.
We looked at her quizzically.
“His real name was Melvin. Melvin Peterson.”
I frowned. “Peterson? But that’s—
“Yup, same as mine.”
“B-but, but . . . ,” Claudia sputtered.
Nadine took a swig of beer. “The two of us never legally divorced. That’s the real reason I wanted to track him down. Wanted to finalize the divorce we started years ago so he couldn’t get his cotton-pickin’ hands on my lottery winnings.”
“Well, don’t that beat all,” Polly murmured.
“My shrink told me I needed closure,” Nadine continued. “Guess he was right ’cause the only thing I felt for the bastard after meeting up with him again was pity. Still had his good looks, still had that smarmy charm. Still the same no-good bum. Even after years in Tinseltown, the guy never figured out his kind of talent was a dime a dozen.”
Claudia deemed it time for a change of topic. “So, Kate, what’s your houseguest up to these days now that the play and rehearsals are over?”
I unwrapped a chocolate truffle—dark chocolate, of course. “Krystal left a note saying the real father of her baby, her true ‘soul mate’ as she calls him, is out of jail, and they’re getting back together. She apologized for any trouble she might have caused but claimed she didn’t know what else to do. Apparently, she took up with Lance right after her boyfriend was sent to prison. When she learned Lance had married a wealthy older woman, namely Claudia, she decided to use that to her advantage and make some easy money.” I popped the candy into my mouth. “She left this morning and took that darn cat with her.”
Monica rang the bell, signaling the start of play.
I plucked an orange cat hair off my woolen slacks. Maybe my next pet will be a dog, I thought as I picked up the dice and let them roll.