Part 13 (2/2)
”K.” Cynthia leaned through the open pa.s.senger-side front window. Her straight blonde hair fell into the car. She smelled minty. ”What do you need? I have, like, a half-hour break and need to grab some chow.”
”Sure, I'll be quick.” Think. Think. ”We're getting a gift for your manager, Susie.”
”We are?” Annie Mae asked.
I winked at Annie Mae.
”A surprise gift. We want to buy her favorite lipstick, but we don't know what color or brand it is.” I shrugged my shoulders while flitting my eyelids.
Annie Mae gaped at me with eyes wide as she sat in the pa.s.senger seat between Cynthia in the open window and me in the driver's seat.
Cynthia snapped her finger. ”Yeah, if you, like, asked her, she'd get all suspicious.”
”Exactly.” I nodded.
”Wow. Like, that is a problem.” Cynthia narrowed her eyes.
”I know.” I turned my hands over and sighed.
”b.u.mmer, right?” Annie Mae added. ”What to do, what to do.”
”I have an idea. Do you want me to find out?” Cynthia asked.
”Sure. Only if you want to,” I said.
”Like, of course, I wouldn't let her know what I'm, like, doing. You know, the surprise and all.” Cynthia pulled a phone out of her tattered black leather backpack. ”Give me your number, and I'll text you.”
I gave Cynthia my cell number.
Annie Mae looked at me and then at Cynthia. ”Like, wow.”
Chapter Fifteen.
”How did you do that?” Annie Mae asked as I pulled out of the parking lot.
”Remember, I have two hot teenage boys, which means I have a lot of girls hanging around my house.”
Annie Mae smiled.
”Like wallpaper, I hang around. I listen and learn. Some teen girls love drama, like secrets. She seemed the type.”
”Bingo.”
”Once we know which lipstick Susie uses, we'll get it matched with the sample on Lucy's letter and my car.”
Turning on my directional, I merged into the right lane on Drayton. ”We're one step closer to an answer.”
”I pulled some tricks out of my sleeve, too. Did you like my acting?” Annie Mae pointed to her chest.
”Your fall?”
”In a method acting cla.s.s, I learned how do one without hurting myself.”
”The Oscar goes to Annie Mae.”
”I would've settled for a loaf of bread.”
”What next?” I turned a corner at the light.
Annie Mae held a finger up. ”We've talked to Bert.” She raised another finger. ”Susie and Scarlett.” She held four fingers up. ”Who does that leave to investigate?”
”Ina, Lucy's back-door neighbor.”
”Ah, yes, the tree person. And the threatening note.”
”Let's hope she can give information that leads to the killer.”
”Or she could be the killer.”
”Let's find out.”
I rang the doorbell. Annie Mae and I stood on the front porch of Ina Nesmith's peach-colored stucco two-story home, which backed up to Lucy's house. There was a huge tree visible beyond the rooftop.
The door opened. A shriveled lady, who looked a hundred years old, answered the door. She wore a pink crocheted sweater over a blue cotton dress. A pair of gla.s.ses hung on a multicolored, beaded chain. Her thin, gray hair was piled on top of her head in a tiny bun. A hearing aid was visible. ”Yes?”
”We're friends of Lucy, your back-door neighbor.” I pointed in the direction of her backyard.
”Lucy died. And she didn't live here. You have the wrong house.” Ina shook her head. A bobby pin fell from her bun.
”We know that. We need to talk about the tree issue,” Annie Mae said.
”The what?” Ina said loudly.
”Tree issue.” I spoke clearly and slowly.
”You need a tissue?” Ina's eyebrows creased as she pulled tissues from her sweater sleeve. She handed one to me and one to Annie Mae.
”No, thank you.” Looking at me, Annie Mae rolled her eyes. Then she turned back to Ina. ”You wrote a note to Lucy about a problem with a tree.”
”Remember? Over the roots?”
”Results? Rooster?” Ina leaned in. ”I'm sorry, ladies, I have a difficult time hearing. By the way, something smells like fire.”
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