She’ll Stitch You Up Read online

  Velma huffed. “You old coot, you’ve got no business talking about me and my sister. We had only gone down to talk to the man, and I can’t help it if he got himself wrapped up in a murder case.” She had no love lost for the mayor since he’d stuck her with the bill for the new park benches.

  “I’m just repeating what I heard,” he said. “I think it’s a damned good thing you and Ethel got lucky on that one. It saved the police station a lot of time.”

  “Lucky?” Velma’s eyes grew wide with a crazed look. “I’ll have you know that I worked hard on that case, and it wasn’t luck!”

  Ethel could tell that Velma was about to hit the old man as she lifted her crochet bag, preparing to strike out. She grabbed her sister’s hand and pulled her toward the door.

  Once outside, Velma crossed her arms, the bag now dangling from her wrist. “Why did you go and do that? He needed to be taught a lesson.”

  “Think of the Lord, Velma. He wouldn’t want you to strike out at one of his children.”

  Velma let out a breath of frustration as she got in the car and slammed the door. There was no use arguing with Ethel. She would just never understand.

  Chapter 4

  “I don’t know why you start up with him,” said Ethel. “He just likes to get your goat.” They were on their way over to their park benches to enjoy the rest of the day.

  “Who does he think he is, saying it was just luck? I worked long and hard on that case, and I will not have it chalked up to luck.” The very word was an insult, and Velma had been in a horrible mood since.

  “He’s an old fool. Who cares what he thinks? But you have to agree that what I said is true. You’re just itching to solve another crime.” She pulled the car to a stop, parking in her usual place at the park.

  “Maybe.” She looked out at the park, at the young mothers with their children and the older man walking his dog. A few others sat on the new park benches, but thankfully, their favorite, the one with her donation plaque, was empty. “Nothing exciting ever happens in Bliss.”

  Ethel shuddered. “I don’t like it when you say that, Velma. As soon as you start talking about how boring this town is, something crazy happens.” She had stumbled over one too many dead bodies to think Bliss was boring.

  “I want more than a news scandal, Eth, I need action.”

  “Remember that old board game we used to play? With the murders? I have no clue what it was called, but do you remember it?” They had played that game a hundred times together with Alfred.

  “I mean real action, not some board game. The name says it all—bored.”

  “It’s not that kind of bored,” said Ethel, giving a giggle. “But remember. We used to fight over the little iron. I thought maybe we could pull it out and play it again. At least then, there are no real dead bodies.”

  “And no real action.” Velma thought a minute, imagining the board with the all the rooms and the tiny envelope marked Confidential. “Wait, Ethel. There was no iron in that game.”

  Ethel remembered it very vividly. “Yes, there was. We lost the lead pipe, so we used the iron from that other game. You used to say that they conked the victim over the head with it.”

  “Oh, that’s right. But only because you wouldn’t let me use the shoe. You said someone dying from a foot up their ass didn’t make sense, and I offered to show you. In fact, next time we go to class, I’ll show you on Ray Wetzel.”

  “Let it go, Vel.”

  “Fine.” Velma didn’t see how she remembered some of the things she did and not others that seemed so much more important. “I still think Alfred swallowed the pipe. I bitched at him a time or two for picking his teeth with it. Then, one day, it was just gone. I’d hate to see what that little thing did coming out the other end.”

  “Velma, he did not swallow it. You used it to jimmy the lock on Daddy Harmon’s liquor cabinet.”

  Velma smiled, remembering it fondly. “Oh, that’s right. I’d almost forgotten my seventeenth birthday.” She had been young and determined to have a good time, which ended in hangover misery and a punishment that had her home for the next month of Friday nights.

  They walked to their favorite bench beneath the large white oak. Velma preferred the spot because the tree cut down the noise from the playground in the distance. The bench was new and splinter-free, thanks to her donation, but it still somehow irritated her thinking of how she was tricked out of her hard-earned money each time she sat on it.

  Determined not to let Mayor Sheffield get her down, Velma sat and unloaded her bag as Ethel made herself comfortable beside her, each settling in for a day of crochet. “Would you look at that,” said Ethel. “That man ought to be ashamed of himself.”

  Velma looked up to find out who had gotten under Ethel’s skin, only to see Everett Gaines, Bliss’s very own oil tycoon. The man had a saucy reputation for entertaining young women at his big, lodge-style mansion.

  Just as Velma dropped her skein of yarn, a nice wind picked up, blowing a rare, cool breeze, which carried the yarn down the sidewalk.

  The yarn unraveled as it rolled, and before Velma could get up, she heard a deep voice call out. “Allow me to help you, ma’am.”

  Velma looked up to see Everett stopping it with the pointy toe of his shiny cowboy boot.

  The young woman on his arm giggled softly. She was a skinny little thing who would likely be whisked away on the wind herself if he didn’t have a hold of her hand. She was also blonde and a good thirty years younger.

  “Thank you, Mr. Gaines,” said Ethel with her chins held high. She had a big smile for the richest man in Bliss, who she’d heard had been widowed three years earlier. Not that he’d be interested in her at her age.

  Everett picked up the skein of yarn, wrapping the extra thread around it before offering it to Velma. “It’s the least I can do for our town heroine.” He met Velma’s eyes.

  Velma wondered who had blabbed. What she did to help the new police chief was meant to be done anonymously, but so far, just like she should have expected from a small town like Bliss, word was spreading that Chief Michelle Rayne had a little help.

  “Thank you,” she said, ignoring his remark.

  The younger woman, who was briefly distracted by the old oak tree, was intrigued. “Oh? Well, I’d love to hear more about that. I love a good girl-power story.”

  The old man’s eyes twinkled, and he let go of the young blonde’s hand. “Actually, you might get a chance to hear it,” he said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small stack of envelopes. “It seems your name is on my list.” He handed Velma one, which she took with some hesitation.

  “If it’s another bill for park benches, tell the Mayor to do his own dirty work.” Velma knew that the mayor and Everett were close friends, but then again, the Mayor made it his business to suck up to the wealthy in town.

  Everett laughed. “No, it’s an invitation actually.”

  “An invitation?” asked Ethel. “Oh, how wonderful.” She put her crochet in her lap and closed her hands together.

  “To a charity event, no doubt?” Velma wondered when she earned the honor to rub elbows with the bigwigs of Bliss. Even though she had a sizeable bank account, she didn’t want anyone else to know about it.

  “Absolutely not,” said Everett. “This is a gala appreciation dinner, honoring those who have donated so generously to the community through the beautification project. I do hope to see you there.” He noticed his girl hug the old white oak, laying her body against it as if it were her long-lost love. His face turned red.

  “Alice, darling, come along.”

  The woman stayed with her eyes closed, her upper torso firmly gripping the bark as if she didn’t hear him.

  “Looks like your niece traded an old stump for the whole tree,” muttered Velma.

  “She’s not my niece,” said Mr. Gaines with a hard look. “I’d like you to meet Alice Conner. Alice, honey?”

  The girl pulled herself away reluctantly. “It
’s a beautiful tree. Don’t you think?” She looked at it with stars in her eyes.

  Velma and Ethel exchanged a look.

  “My Alice is a bit of a tree enthusiast. She loves nature, this one.” He put his arm around her as she fell into place at his side.

  Better an old tree than Mr. Dumb as a Stump, thought Velma.

  “Don’t you just love that old tree?” asked Alice.

  Gaines gave a nod. “Of course, dear. We really should be going. You ladies have a wonderful day.”

  As they strolled away, the girl practically using the old man as a crutch, Velma rolled her eyes. “It must have been her naptime.”

  Ethel scoffed. “What’s so special about her?”

  “Do you really want me to answer that?”

  Ethel stiffened in her seat and gave Velma a stern look. “I’m serious. What does she have that I haven’t got?”

  “You’re right. You’ve got everything she’s got, plus about a hundred pounds more of it.”

  Ethel poked her in the arm with the hook. “You don’t have to be mean. Anyway, when are you going to open that thing? I’m dying to see it.”

  “You already know what it is.”

  “Yes, but I want to know if you can take a plus one.” She had long wanted to go into Gaines’s lavish estate.

  Velma picked up her handiwork and readied her hook. “How do you know I won’t find a date?”

  Ethel gave her a sideward look. “We both know you won’t bring a date.” Suddenly, she wondered if Velma might choose this one time to be bold. “Oh, please, Velma?”

  “Relax. I’m sure you can come too. Besides, it will give you something to wear all that makeup to.” She tore into the cream-colored envelope and pulled out the card which had tiny leaves embossed on it. Immediately, she assumed that the bubble-headed blonde must have been in charge of the stationery.

  “It’s this weekend,” she said, skimming the page. “Talk about your last-minute invites.”

  “Is there a theme? Do we get to wear costumes or those intricate masks? We still have ours from Mardi Gras.”

  “It’s semi-formal,” said Velma. “Which translates to Sunday best. I guess I’ll have to wear my good girdle.” She hated the thing. It hadn’t ever fit her right to begin with, and it felt like someone had tightly Bungie-tied a mattress to her back.

  Ethel’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, then I guess our new shirts are out.”

  “Now there’s something to praise the Lord about,” mumbled Velma.

  Ethel crocheted a couple of more stitches and then said, “Where is this event taking place? And please tell me it’s Gaines Manor. I’ve wanted to see that place since Everett’s wife, Loretta, had it built. I almost was invited over for tea with the ladies’ group, but I ended up having the flu.”

  “You always want to go snooping around in people’s houses. I suppose if I bring you, I’ll have to put a bell on your neck to keep you from wandering off.”

  Ethel’s eyes widened. “It is at his house?” She paused her excitement long enough for Velma to respond with a nod. “Oh, how exciting! I have the perfect dress in mind.”

  “Now, Ethel, I’m not going to bring you if you insist on painting yourself up like a harlot.”

  “I won’t, but I have a lot of things I wanted to wear on a special occasion, and it’s high time I bring them out of the closet and get some use out of them.”

  “If you can beat the moths away, I suppose you’re right. But one of your church dresses will do just fine. I’m not putting on airs for anyone else.”

  “Oh, at least shave your legs, please.”

  “Why? No one is going to be up my skirt.” It wasn’t that she hated shaving, but it was harder and harder to manage the older she got.

  “Velma! I’d hope not!” She gave her a nudge as Velma picked up her hooks and worked along her row. A moment later, she turned her nose up. “I want to look nice. Besides, you never know when I might find me a man.”

  Velma let the remark go. Ethel was always wanting to find a man, but Velma knew better. She wouldn’t know what to do with one if she found him. “Don’t get too excited, Ethel. I’m not even sure I’m going.”

  Ethel slumped down in her seat and sighed, but she wasn’t going to give up. She had a few days to convince Velma otherwise.

  Chapter 5

  Velma walked into the back door to see what Ethel was up to, and her eyes began to water. The smell of onions hung heavy in the air, stinging the back of her throat and giving the air a taste which had Velma putting her hand over her mouth.

  “Are you cooking or trying to open up your sinuses?” Velma stepped over to the table with a basket of fresh vegetables she’d picked from her garden.

  Ethel kept her back turned and her eyes on her work. “I just thought you might like a nice meal since we’ve nothing else better to do. I mean, we do have to eat, and I know how much you love my meatloaf.” She gave a little shrug and hoped that Velma wasn’t onto her.

  “Meatloaf, huh?” The only time Ethel made Velma her fabulous onion meatloaf was when she wanted to butter her up. She had been itching to go to the party and hadn’t let Velma forget it.

  “I suppose you’re right,” Velma teased. “It’s a good thing you’re making a big one. We’ll have plenty to eat later. Maybe even through Saturday night.” She had tormented Ethel with the invite to the appreciation dinner all night, and even though she’d made up her mind to give in and go, she hadn’t yet told her sister. She had to find ways to amuse herself somehow.

  “Fine, we’ll just save it till then,” said Ethel with a huff. Her plan may have backfired, but she wasn’t done with Velma yet. “I guess we can just stay home and snap peas with Miss Vicky all weekend.”

  Ethel looked down at the table, and in front of her chair was a magazine Ethel had bought years before, featuring every fancy house in Bliss. The page just so happened to be turned to the article about Gaines Manor.

  The sprawling estate was the biggest modern-style home in the county, and Loretta Gaines had taken special care to make sure it had gotten the attention it deserved in every major publication for fine living. She was the talk of the town for making her way into the Mansions of Texas magazine. Ethel had gone as far as buying two copies, one of which she kept in mint condition, untouched in the top of her closet.

  Velma waved the magazine at her sister. “Nice product placement, Ethel, but I’m still not convinced I’ll have a good time. There’s going to be nothing but stuffy old snooty rich people and the same old blowhard assholes that are on the local ballots. No thanks. Let the politicians vie for attention. They’re only giving money for votes anyway.” She tossed the magazine aside and pulled her basket closer.

  “I didn’t mean anything by leaving it there. I just thought I better take a look at that again. It’s probably the only way I’ll ever get to see that house in person. A woman only has so many hobbies in her life, so many things to do on her bucket list before she dies.”

  Ethel had more hobbies than Martha Stewart and had always been fascinated with old houses. And while Velma couldn’t understand her curiosity to see how the other half lived, she, herself, had been considering how pointless it would be to go. “You know the party is just to show off his new girlfriend and that gaudy house he has up on the hill.”

  “You heard what he said. The Beautification Committee of Bliss is hosting, and this is to say thank you. What if they want to give you a big award or something?”

  Velma highly doubted that but cringed at the thought. “You know you’re not helping your case any. The last thing I want is a bunch of local yokels handing me a loving cup with my name engraved on it.”

  Ethel spun around, and her eyes lit as a sappy grin spread her lips. “Oh, I’ve always thought that loving cups were so pretty. Don’t you think one would look beautiful on the mantle?”

  “For the last time, our space heater does not have a mantle, Ethel.”

  “Fine, we’ll put it on top of t
he TV.”

  “We don’t have room for it there. Besides, we already have something on top of the TV. It’s called another TV.”

  “You’re right. It might be time to get rid of it. I’ll have Landon haul it away, and then we’ll get us a new mantle to put our TV on, as well as your award. I don’t think it should stir anything up.”

  Velma ignored her sister’s irrational fear of changing the furniture. “I’m not getting an award, Ethel. You’re letting your speculation get away from you again. And not only that, but we both know that scrawny grandson of yours couldn’t pick up one corner of that heavy cabinet.”

  “Landon is a football player. He’s a strong boy.”

  “More like the waterboy,” said Velma. “The coach only let him play because all of the other losers kept failing.”

  “That’s not true, and you know it. Landon is growing up, and he’s a fine young man.”

  “You’re biased.”

  “And you’re mean.” She washed her hands and then dried them, giving Velma scolding looks in the process. “You know I want to go to this event.” She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out the envelope, looking at it as if it were a lost dream. “You’re just not going to the event to be mean to me, and now you’re dragging poor Landon into it. You know I’ll probably die old and alone, never having any fun or meeting anyone else of interest.”

  She tossed the invite on the table and then returned to the counter, digging her hands into the bowl of meat, crushed crackers, and onions which she churned with all of her might, pounding and slapping at it with her tiny fists.

  Velma rolled her eyes as Ethel had switched into full guilt mode. “Oh all right. You twisted my arm. You win. We’ll go to the gala dinner.”

  Ethel turned from the counter with meat mixture on her hands. “I could just kiss you, sister!” Tears ran down her cheeks.