She’ll Stitch You Up Read online

  “I do hope that’s from the onions,” said Velma.

  “Of course.” Ethel went back to mixing her loaf.

  Velma sat down and unloaded her haul. “The garden is doing good. We’re going to have too many tomatoes and more yellow squash than we can squish. We’ll have to pickle some.”

  “I’ll fry us two of the best squash with our meatloaf,” said Ethel, who was still beaming. “Now, let’s talk about this party. I’m wearing my blue dress. The one with the fancy bustline.”

  “Fancy bustline? I didn’t know any of your dresses had a fancy bustline, Ethel. And if you’re referring to that thing you usually wear around your neck, it’s called a dickie.”

  “No, not that. The navy one with the fancy embroidery and beads.”

  Velma tried to remember the one, which meant that Ethel hadn’t wore it since her brother died. “Your funeral dress?”

  “That’s not my funeral dress. My funeral dress is black. This one is navy.”

  Same difference. Velma shrugged. “I thought you said you wanted to be buried in that one.”

  “No, you told me you wouldn’t be caught dead in it,” she said. “You’ve always hated it, but it’s the nicest, fanciest dress I own. And since you didn’t give me time shop for anything new, it’s the only option I have.”

  “Right.” Velma was shocked that the woman hadn’t ordered one online. She’d ordered more shit than they knew what to do with. “I’m not going too far out of my comfort zone. I want to make an appearance, let you see the house so you’ll stop whining about it, and then we’re out of there. I’m not sticking around for any spiel.”

  “We have to stay for dinner, Velma. It would be rude to leave before.” She hoped that Velma wouldn’t embarrass her with poor manners.

  Velma let out a long breath. “Fine, Ethel. We’ll stay, but I’m not sticking around if they bring out some weird exotic food like caviar or snails.”

  “Oh, I hope there’s something good to eat,” she said. “I’m still not right from that tuna casserole.”

  “Still?”

  Ethel gave a slow nod toward her meatloaf patty. “Yeah, and the more I think about it, this meatloaf could be a mistake too.”

  “That all depends. Where did you get the meat?” Velma looked down to see the scrawny cat sitting by the back door, busy licking his nether regions with one paw straight up in the air.

  “Very funny. It didn’t come from a can in case that’s what you’re getting at.” She greased her pan, put the loaf in it, and patted the meat gently.

  Velma reached across the table to get the Bliss Bugle, the town’s newspaper that was on its last leg, suffering from a rising interest in internet media. “Have you not looked at the paper today?”

  “Nah, that’s not the latest issue. They’ve cut it down to twice a month, and even then, it’s only coupons for local business and a few announcements. I thought you might use it to line the vegetable bins, and the rest can go in the litter box.”

  “I’ll let you line the litter box,” Velma said. “I’m not touching the damned thing.” She pulled the paper out of the little plastic bag it came in and unfolded it to see a familiar face, that of the young floozy Everett Gaines had been with in the park.

  Velma made no attempt to read the article and, instead, walked over to pull out the crate she stored her produce in. She lined it with the newspaper, looking down at Alice’s face. Could be worse, she thought. Better a bin of squash than cat shit. She filled it with her haul.

  After it was full, she carried the bin back to its place and then chose the best two squash for frying. “Will two be enough, or will you stand there and eat it while you cook it?”

  “You better grab an extra one, Velma. I can’t make you any promises pertaining to fried squash. Could you give me some of The Bugle so I can sop the grease when I fry?”

  Velma passed her a piece from what was left. “If this newspaper gets any thinner, I don’t know what we’re going to do. We use the newsprint for everything.”

  “The world isn’t what it used to be, Velma. I guess we’ll have to start buying more paper towels.”

  “It’s a damned shame if you ask me. Everything falling away to the all-mighty internet.”

  Ethel nodded. “That reminds me. I have to try a few of my new eyeshadows today.”

  “Stay away from the yellow. The last time you wore that, you looked like you had jaundice.”

  Ethel waved her hand at Velma. “I’m not. I’m going to try and match my navy dress. It’s for the event.” She made a face. “I suppose I’ll have to wear a pair of navy hose. Or perhaps white?” She seemed terribly distraught.

  “If it’s this much trouble, then perhaps we shouldn’t go.” Velma was sick of talking about it already.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” said Ethel. “No backing out now.”

  Velma let go of a deep breath. She still had time to change Ethel’s mind.

  Chapter 6

  Ethel sat cuddled up with her cat in her chair, working her hook as she stitched on her class project. She had been that way for hours, and even though her leg was asleep, she wasn’t about to get up and disturb Miss Vicky.

  Velma, who had given up on her crochet within the first half hour, watched the TV with squinting eyes. “Can you read that?”

  Ethel shook her head without looking up. “I’m counting.” She waved her hand and scolded.

  “Never mind. You’re blind as a bat too. I can’t tell if I’m watching porn stars or Pawn Stars on this thing.”

  “Velma!” Ethel dropped her crochet to her lap and looked her sister in the eye. “Jesus doesn’t want you to say the P word. It’s a sin against humanity and a scourge of society.” She placed her hand on her chest, trying to pull her shirt closed, even though it was a high-neck T-shirt which revealed nothing at all.

  “Oh grow up, Ethel. It’s just a word, and I’m pretty sure it’s no different than those steamy romance novels you keep on your bedside table.”

  “I have those there to keep Miss Vicky off the table. And now look, you’ve made me miss my count. I have to rip and start all over.” Her quick subject change was not lost on Velma.

  “You’ve been at that for hours now, and it’s not even night time. Let’s take the rest of the day and go do something.”

  “We could go to our bench and crochet,” Ethel suggested.

  “No, I don’t want to go anywhere and crochet. You need to get a life.”

  “I don’t want to go anywhere. I’m comfortable finally.”

  Velma shook her head. “Please, you’ve been constipated for days, and you need to at least go and get something for that. Let’s make a trip into town, and we’ll stop at the pharmacy.”

  Ethel wasn’t buying Velma’s sudden trip to the pharmacy but decided to go along, knowing that she did need to do something about her bowels before her big night out. “Fine, we’ll go. But I’m not going to be good company.”

  “You’re not good company here or there, so what’s the difference?” She didn’t want to admit where she wanted to go and thought that Ethel wouldn’t drive her if she confessed. She decided it was best to spring it on her in the car after the trip to the pharmacy.

  They got out of their robes and slipped on some shoes. Then Ethel reluctantly got the keys from her purse. With a deep sigh, she led the way to the car.

  They headed out and stopped at the local pharmacy. “Maybe we shouldn’t have stopped at Heron’s. I know everyone here.” Ethel’s face turned red. “I can’t buy a laxative in there with everyone watching.”

  “Don’t be silly. You’ve bought toilet paper here before. I’m not getting the difference.”

  “Please, don’t make me go in. Just get me some Milk of Magnesia.” She handed her sister a twenty and sank down behind the wheel.

  “That’s all you want?” Velma wasn’t going to argue with her about going inside.

  “Yes, and see if they have some Double Mint gum and Rolaids for my purse.”<
br />
  “Anything else, or should I just wait while you make out a list?”

  Ethel put her hand up over her face as a man walked by the car. “Well, could you just get us some more of that good apple juice.”

  “Dammit, Ethel, I’ve only got two hands. If you name one more thing, I’m making you go in with me.” The only reason she wasn’t going to force it was because she had somewhere else to go, and she needed Ethel to be agreeable.

  “Okay, okay. I don’t need anything else.” She waved Velma away and kept her face to her lap.

  “Good, then I’m going in.” Velma didn’t really have a list of things for herself, so she got what Ethel needed and made her way to the checkout.

  The man behind the counter smiled at her. “Hey, Mrs. Harmon. How are you today?”

  “Pipes are clogged,” she said, bringing a bright red glow to the man’s face. He wasn’t as sturdy as his father had been when it came to teasing, and Velma liked to watch him squirm. She dropped the Milk of Magnesia on the counter and went to grab a few more things. Then she put them all on the counter too.

  “Well, I do hope you feel better.” He quickly rang up the items and gave her a smile, this one more reluctant than the last.

  Velma walked out to see Ethel ducking behind the steering wheel. She wanted so badly to mess with her, but Velma knew better. She got in the car. “Here, just what you ordered.”

  Ethel reached into the bag and took out the blue bottle of Phillip’s. “Thank you.” She turned it up and took a swig. Then she recapped the stuff and started the car. “Now, have you gotten this outing out of your system? Can we go home now?”

  “Not so fast,” Velma said. “I need you to run me by the police station.”

  “The police station? Whatever for?”

  “I just want to see if there is anything going on that I missed.”

  Ethel gave her a discouraging look. “You mean you want to snoop. You know that Chief Rayne isn’t going to like you interfering.”

  “She should be thanking me for all my help, and besides, we have an understanding. I stay out of her way, and she lets me do my thing.”

  Ethel frowned. “She’s never said that. I specifically heard her tell you to mind your own business.”

  “That’s before I helped her solve the last crime. Just take me over and let me do the talking. You’ll see. She’ll welcome my help.”

  Ethel shook her head. “I don’t like this.”

  “Ethel, you drive me over there this instant, or I’m going back in the store to talk to the pharmacist about your cat food addiction.”

  “I don’t have an—you wouldn’t dare!”

  “I so would. Now, get to driving. I want to be back home before my shows come on.”

  Ethel put the car in reverse and pulled away from the spot, and then she headed to the newer part of town where the police station and city hall were combined on the same property.

  “Do you want to come in, or will you stay in the car?” Velma asked.

  “I’m staying in the car,” she said with a dull tone. “But hurry up. I don’t feel so good.”

  Velma took her usual amount of time getting out of the car. It wasn’t like she could hurry the process up any more, but when she was solid on two feet, she hot-stepped it into the building and didn’t slow down until she was at the front counter.

  “May I help you, Ms. Harmon?” asked Rhonda from the front desk. She seemed put out that she had to speak, but Velma knew better than to get cranky with her.

  “I was wondering,” she said with a big smile. “Could I speak to Chief Rayne?” She hoped if she put enough sugar in her voice, it would help, but since her sweet face still looked like she’d sucked a lemon, she wasn’t sure if the other woman was buying it.

  “I’ll see if she has a moment.” She got up and quickly walked toward the back, and for once, Velma thought she might get the respect she deserved. Especially when the woman came back a moment later. “She will see you. You can go on back.”

  Velma held her head up high as she marched into the chief’s office. The younger woman sat at her desk, leaning over a case file that she quickly put away in her drawer. “How are you, Ms. Harmon?”

  “Doing well, thank you. And you?”

  Chief Rayne smiled at Velma’s enthusiasm. “I’m keeping at it. There are enough colorful characters in this town to keep me on my toes.”

  Velma didn’t take the comment like she should have. Instead, she saw it as an opening and sat down. “I wondered if you needed any help with anything. Surely, there’s a case you’re working on that could use some expert attention?”

  Chief Rayne took a deep breath and steepled her fingers in front of her. “I’m afraid I can’t include you in ongoing investigations, Ms. Harmon. I’m aware you fancy yourself a detective, but the department is equipped with many professionals who are paid to work for the community.”

  “I’m not asking for pay,” she said. “I just thought if you had something you needed to figure out, I might be able to help.”

  The chief gave her a smile. “I appreciate your tenacity and your concern for the community, but I’m afraid there just isn’t anything going on at the moment. But I would like to thank you again for your work on the last case. Your colorblind theory really paid off, and if you hadn’t gotten hold of that pen, we might not have cracked the case.”

  “You’re welcome. So, maybe if something does happen in the future and you ever need a little help, you’ll reach out?”

  “I can’t make you any promises, Ms. Harmon.”

  “Please, call me Velma.” Velma hoped that the two of them could stay on good terms. Her not taking credit for solving the last case was her way of showing she could remain anonymous. The only reason anyone knew of her helping was because the chief had announced it to everyone.

  “Velma, I appreciate you wanting to help. I really do, but my hands are tied. If I don’t follow protocol, I could lose my job, and let’s face it. I’m a native American policewoman in a small, southern town. I’ve got eyes all around me.”

  Velma shrugged. “Sounds to me like you need all the help you can get. And besides, I know I’m just an old lady, but I’m a retired professor, and I know a lot of people in this town. I know you have your limits, but I wanted you to know that you can count on me to help when you need it.”

  Chief Rayne smiled. “I appreciate it, and while I’ll make you no promises, I’ll keep it in mind.” She reached out her hand, offering it for a shake which Velma rapidly took advantage of.

  “Thank you.” She got to her feet. “It means a lot to feel needed, you know? I guess the older I get, the more restless I get. I just want to feel I can be some use, is all.”

  “I’m sure there are many ways you can be useful that don’t include crime. You should be enjoying the sunny side of life, not the dark one. Try to enjoy your retirement, Velma.” She got up and showed Velma to the door.

  As the two of them stepped out into the lobby, Ethel ran inside in a hurry; not even her bad hip or arthritis slowed her down. “Out of the way, Velma!” She hurried by, quick as a flash, with all eyes on her as she headed into the ladies’ room.

  Bucky palmed his weapon and looked around like he didn’t know what was happening.

  “What on earth is the matter with her?” asked Rhonda.

  Velma rolled her eyes, remembering Ethel’s hearty swig in the car. “I think her laxative just kicked in.”

  Chapter 7

  Saturday night came before they knew it, and while Ethel took her sweet time getting ready, Velma stood pacing the living room. She didn’t want to wrinkle her skirt or pick up any cat hair from her favorite chair by sitting, but her feet were already starting to hurt in her Sunday shoes.

  “Hurry up, Ethel. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get back home!”

  “Now, now, Velma, you’re not going to rush me,” called Ethel from in front of the bathroom mirror. “We’re going to sit with those fine, charitable
people and enjoy ourselves. Besides, we at least have to see what’s for dessert.”

  “That’s about the time they’ll start their pitch for a new highway or one of those damned noisy amusement parks. No thanks.”

  “I bet it’s something fancy like ambrosia,” Ethel said.

  Velma rolled her eyes. “Let’s hope it’s something better than that,” she mumbled. “Better be worth losing the feeling in my legs.” Her pantyhose were cutting off her circulation, and she wondered if her skirt was long enough to ditch the formal legwear.

  As Ethel sprayed her hair, Velma hurried to her room, kicked off her shoes, and shimmied out of the stockings. After a quick peek in her panty drawer, she found a pair of knee-highs from a few decades past and checked to see if they were dry-rotted.

  “Still got a little spring in ‘em,” she said as she went to the bed and pulled them on. She looked down at her shoes and couldn’t bear to put her feet back in them. So, with a quick decision, she found her orthopedic shoes and slipped her foot into one. “Ah, like heaven.”

  “Velma?” Ethel had finished up in the bathroom and was in the living room looking for her sister. “I’m ready, and now you’re not?” She took another look in the mirror, fluffed her hair, and made sure there wasn’t any lipstick on her teeth.

  Velma quickly crammed her other foot into its shoe. “No, I’m ready. Let’s go.” She turned off the light in her room and shut the door as she made her way out.

  “Oh, I’m so excited,” said Ethel, taking out her keys. “Miss Vicky, be a good kitty, and don’t wait up.” She hurried out behind her sister, locking the doors and checking them twice.

  Velma stood waiting to get in the car. “I don’t see why you bother locking this thing up, Ethel.”

  “Because I keep a lot of stuff in there. You never know when someone will come along and want to steal something.”

  Velma rolled her eyes and opened the door when Ethel had finally stepped away. “I doubt they’d want our extra crochet bags or any of the other junk you keep in this thing.”