When Bobbie Sang the Blues (10 page)

He nodded. “I know it’s been a long time since I’ve seen your mother as upset as she is now. She feels awful about what she said. She’s also deeply hurt by your words.”

Christy sighed and shrugged. “I just told the truth, Dad. Mom has always seemed so perfect—”

“Or you’ve chosen to see her that way,” he said. “She doesn’t feel that way about herself at all.”

“Well, when it comes to her sister, she is very judgmental.” Christy paused, realizing she had to be fair here as well. “I admit I see a tension or resentment between them. I can’t remember ever seeing them laughing together or even looking like they enjoy each other’s company the way Seth and I do.”

“Your mother felt Bobbie got all the social attention, so she tried to be the smart one who pleased her parents. Unfortunately, that drove the sisters farther apart.”

Christy nodded, seeing the logic in his explanation. “The other thing is,” she said, turning their conversation back to the investigation, “Bobbie seems to have quite a bit of money on her, with no explanation of where she got it or why she suddenly decided to move here. When Eddie made that scene, he said she knew where he had stashed ten thousand dollars and that she stole the money
and took off. That’s his story. But…Bobbie does seem to have a lot of cash on hand.”

“Well,” her father said, “at dinner that first night, she told us that she had sold her shop in Memphis. That would account for the money.”

“When you sell a business, I suppose you sell your list of clientele and some of the inventory.”

“And the building. I think she owned the building.”

Christy brightened. “Oh, I didn’t know that.”

“Well, I don’t know that to be a fact,” he said, “but I assumed from the way she described how she had to paint and paper and fix up her shop that she owned it. Not many people invest that much in a rental.”

Christy nodded. “That’s true. Some of the things that used to be in her shop are in storage in Memphis. She’s planning to move everything here for her new shop.”

“So she’s definitely going to open a shop here?”

“Didn’t you get that impression?”

He hesitated, reaching for his pen and turning it up and down over the pad in a gesture she recognized as stalling. “What?” she asked.

“Honey, your aunt has never been too…reliable in what she does. I haven’t been around her that much over the years, but I’ve seen her change overnight. Once she came to visit years ago and told us she planned to move back to Minnesota and marry a boyfriend from high school. She seemed completely serious, but Beth told me that night that Bobbie wouldn’t go back to Minnesota.
She hated the cold weather. Sure enough, by the next afternoon, she had completely changed her mind and decided to stay in Atlanta. This was right after her divorce from Joe Henry.”

“I think she’s serious about it this time, Dad.”

“Well then, we’ll pray for the best for her.”

Christy hugged her dad and left, feeling hopeful for the first time in hours. He always made her feel better. In August, when she had broken up with Dan, her father had reminded her to use her faith, to believe God had a plan for her life and that if Dan were part of that plan, things would work out.

She drove home, humming to herself as she pulled into the drive. The humming stopped when she realized Bobbie’s red truck was gone. She hurried inside, frowning at the unlocked door. When she reached the room where she had left Bobbie, the bed was empty.

B
efore she went looking for Bobbie, Christy decided to turn the phones on and check her messages. Dan had called four times.

“Hi, Christy. I heard the bad news. How can I help
?”

“Christy, it’s me again. Call me.
”

“Hey, I don’t want to keep bugging you, but I’m worried. Call me anytime, night or day. You know I care about you,”
he added softly.

Christy drew a ragged breath. “I care about you too,” she said. They had both avoided the word
love
in their phone messages, and yet they had often spoken of their love over the past eighteen months. She sank into the chair at her desk, feeling as though the day had drained all emotion from her. Now, hearing Dan’s voice evoked another emotion, sharp and strong. She missed him. And she needed him. If they hadn’t argued, if she hadn’t walked out, if they hadn’t both been stubborn, he would be with her now. He would wrap his strong arms around her and press her head against his shoulder, and she would feel safe in a world turned upside down.

“Christy, I finally reached Deputy Arnold and told him about the
black Mercedes. I reminded him he owed it to his community to look for it.
”

Christy dialed Dan’s number but got only voice mail. “Hi, Dan. Thanks for calling. Yes, I need you. And I care about you too.”

As she hung up, her thoughts swung to Bobbie. Had she gone to Jack’s house?

The phone rang. Christy glanced at the caller ID and read Miz B’s number.

“Hi, Miz B.”

“I had a talk with Hornsby,” Miz B said without preamble. “He and his girlfriend came in for a late lunch. I guess he’s closed down his office with so much going on.”

“What did he have to say?”

“I bribed him with my special meatloaf—his favorite—and my strawberry cheesecake—her favorite. It worked. He told me the police asked him to keep quiet, but with all the officers and the medical examiner’s team, it’s no secret what happened. Said when the coroner and his men tried to get Eddie out of the barrel, it was like trying to untangle a pretzel.” Miz B’s voice sharpened. “Hornsby got a little amused over his pretzel joke. I told him I didn’t think it was funny. Then he looked nervous, started glancing over his shoulder. Muttered something about pushy Yankee types, and that didn’t make sense to me. Christy, that guy’s either scared or hiding something. Or seems that way to me.”

Christy considered that. “You could be right.”

“Now my theory,” Miz B continued, “is that those bookies killed him and hauled him out to Bobbie’s storage unit. Those guys know how to get in padlocks. They dumped him in the barrel so it would look like his ex-wife took his money and killed him.”

“You could be right about that as well,” Christy said.

“Honey, I gotta run. I’m needed in the kitchen. Junior’s goofing off again.”

“Bye. And thanks for helping.”

Christy hung up and looked at the wall clock. Three o’clock! She had been so caught up in her phone messages and conversations that she hadn’t realized how much time she had lost.

Or how long Bobbie had been gone.

Her heart raced as she reached for the phone and dialed Bobbie’s cell. Her aunt’s lilting voice answered, inviting her to leave a message.

She had to find out where Bobbie had gone.
Now.

She punched in Jack’s number. She was about to hang up, thinking he wasn’t home, when he breathed a weary hello into the phone.

“Hi, Jack. How’d it go with that detective?”

“Like I expected. Grilled me for an hour.” He sighed. “He’s just doing his job. I want the killer caught as much as anyone. Otherwise, it makes Bobbie look…well, you know. I don’t want people thinking the wrong thing. I know she wouldn’t kill anyone. Besides, she was with me.”

“Did they ask you about the time you took her home, when you left, where you went, and those kinds of things?”

“Of course they did. Over and over. By the way, I’d like to speak with her.”

Christy’s hopes sank. She couldn’t admit she had called in search of her aunt. She didn’t want to worry him more now. She might have to worry him later, however, if she didn’t find Bobbie soon. “She isn’t here, Jack. Want me to have her call when she comes in?”

“Yeah. She needs friends now, Christy. Thank God she’s staying with you.”

“I know. Hey, I’d better go. Talk to you later, Jack.” They said good-bye and hung up.

Christy tried to fight the panic rising within her. She grabbed her car keys and purse just as the sound of a vehicle turning into her driveway reached her.

She rushed outside, hoping Bobbie had returned. It was Seth, however, who jogged up to her door. Atticus trotted toward the backyard.

Her first thought, as she watched Seth approach the porch, was that he resembled their father, despite his attempts not to. Her second thought was that he looked as upset as she felt.

“I’ve been in Pensacola visiting friends,” he said as he hugged her. “I just got back in town and heard Bobbie’s ex was found dead in her storage unit. What’s going on?”

She told him about everything that had happened, beginning with Deputy Arnold storming into the Red Hat meeting and ending with the questioning downtown. “When we returned, Bobbie
wanted to lie down. I left for an hour or so. When I came back, she was gone.”

“Did she leave a note?”

She slapped her forehead. “Hadn’t even thought of that.” She rushed back into the kitchen and looked at the message pad on the counter. “Nothing.”

Seth swore.

She frowned at him. “Now listen. I’ve tried her cell phone, and she’s not at Jack’s place. He asked to speak to Bobbie, and I said she wasn’t home. I didn’t want to worry him.” She felt miserable. “Oh Seth, today has been a nightmare.”

He paced the kitchen floor, raking a hand through his long hair. “Tell you what. We’ll both look for her,” he said. He stopped pacing and faced Christy.

She touched his arm. “I’m so glad you’re here. The idea that those guys from Memphis got to her—”

“Don’t think like that,” Seth said. “I’m sure she just went out someplace.”

He reached into the fridge for two bottles of water and handed one to her. She took the water, then shoved her cell phone in her purse.

“You call me, or I’ll call you,” he said, striding out the door ahead of her. “I’ll drive by the Blues Club. You check out Miz B’s restaurant.” He called to Atticus, and they jumped into his car.

Christy hurried toward hers, praying Bobbie was all right.

Christy and Seth took different routes, staying in touch by
phone. As her eyes searched the streets of Summer Breeze, her nerves pricked her skin like hot sand.

Calm down. Maybe she just wanted to be alone, went for a cup of coffee or something. You’re overreacting.

She sped toward Miz B’s restaurant. As she swung into the parking lot, her gaze swept the vehicles, but Bobbie’s red truck was not there. She parked and hopped out, trying to calm herself. She entered the restaurant at a run and looked around.

Jamie waved from a table, where she stood refilling salt and pepper shakers.

“Has Bobbie been in?” Christy called to her.

“No, I haven’t seen her. Listen, I’m sorry—”

“Thanks, Jamie. Gotta run.”

Out the door and back down the steps, she ran to her car. Just as she hopped in, Seth’s car sped into the parking lot and screeched to a halt beside her.

“She’s not at the Blues Club, and Donna hasn’t seen her,” he reported.

“And she hasn’t been in Miz B’s. Seth, do you think it’s possible she took off?”

“I’m more freaked that those bookies didn’t find the money on Eddie, and now they’re after Bobbie.”

Christy agreed, but she struggled not to let it take over now. If she allowed herself to dwell on the horror of what the bookies might do, she’d start hyperventilating and be useless in looking for Bobbie.

“Maybe I should call Big Bob,” she said, her voice shaking.

“First, lets take another swing around town,” Seth said. “Think she went to see Mom?”

“Maybe. They weren’t on speaking terms, but—”

“I’ll drive by,” Seth said, already backing up.

“Don’t go in and alarm her,” Christy called, starting her car and following him out of the parking lot.

Maybe she’s gone back to the house
, Christy thought.
Oh God, please let her be there; let us find her
.

The ugly memory of Eddie’s murder jumped full force into her head, and she swerved to miss a car. She remembered a true crime story on television about a victim who had been tortured. Was there a chance that Bobbie, like the victim in the story, was hanging upside down in a meat locker?

“Stop it!” she yelled at herself.

She drove past the Starlight on her way home to see if Bobbie had gone to talk to Roseann. Another disappointment. No red truck.

Traffic slowed as old Mrs. Fentress ambled across the street with her walker, heading for the ice cream shop. Christy turned onto a side street and wound around the block to avoid the bottleneck. Something pulled her gaze to a parking lot across the street. Bobbie’s red truck! Or at least she thought it was.

Swerving into the crowded parking lot, she pulled up beside Bobbie’s truck. She cut the engine and slumped over the wheel, weak with relief. Beyond the parking lot, she could see people entering a square concrete building.

She jumped out of her car and ran up the sidewalk. Through
the open door, she could see a group assembled in straight-back chairs. Just before she stepped inside, she heard her aunt’s voice and came to a halt.

“Hi, my name’s Bobbie, and I’m an alcoholic.”

Christy quickly backed up, edging around to the side of the building. She took a deep breath, trying to absorb the situation and feeling a new respect for her aunt. While she had been out looking for Bobbie, her thoughts alternating between a kidnapping and a runaway, her aunt had gone to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, where she could find help among others like herself.

She dialed Seth’s number. “Seth, I found her. She’s at an AA meeting. I’ll park at a distance and wait until she comes out. Hopefully she’ll go back to my house.”

Seth sighed. “Good. Hey, when I swung by the folks’ house, Mom was backing out of the driveway. She said Mrs. Hayward died, and she’s meeting Dad at the Hayward home to help out. I guess the family is pretty broken up. She wanted me to tell you they couldn’t come over tonight, but she’d call first thing in the morning. I didn’t tell her we were looking for Bobbie.”

“Well,” Christy said, rubbing her forehead, “I’m sorry about Mrs. Hayward, but I’m relieved Mom and Dad will be occupied tonight. I’m drained.”

“Yeah, me too. I’m going home now. If Aunt Bobbie doesn’t come home, call me. And tell her I came by to see her and that I’ll call tomorrow.”

“Right. I love you, brother.”

“Same here.”

Christy closed her cell phone and returned to her car. She drove across the street and parked in the driveway of a house listed with a For Sale sign.

Ten minutes later, the meeting ended, and Christy watched her aunt hurry to her truck. She waited until the little red truck had disappeared around the corner. Then she backed out of the driveway and followed. When Bobbie turned into the market, Christy parked at a distance.

Fifteen minutes later, Bobbie hurried out with a bulging sack and hopped in her truck. As Bobbie turned down the next block, Christy could see she was headed back home.

She found Bobbie in the kitchen, unloading a grocery bag. “I bought a few staples for us.”

“Thanks, Bobbie. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, but I think I’ll call Jack first. It’d be good to talk with him.”

“Good idea,” Christy said, smiling at her.

Relief flooded through every pore of her being. The crisis had been imagined, and yet…she had reason for concern. There were bad guys out there, probably looking for Bobbie. Tonight, though, Bobbie was safely out of the path of the enigmatic black Mercedes.