Rising from the table in the dark, I promptly banged my shin on a chair. Just as I let out a curse word, the lights in our half of the dining room came on.
“Timing is everything, Mace,” Maddie said.
We quickly got to work, hanging green garland with white paper roses, and a big sign that said Best Wishes! The latter was a bit bedraggled, since Maddie had kept it in her garage since Mama’s last wedding, four years ago. As we strung and taped and hung, we dissected the latest news about C’ndee.
“Carlos might have had her come down there, but she didn’t stay overnight,” Marty said.
“Who told you that?” I was a little miffed she had a better pipeline than I did.
“I stopped at Gladys’ for coffee, saw Donnie Bailey from the jail,” Marty said. “He said Carlos never arrested C’ndee.”
Finger poised at my button, Maddie went ahead and pushed. “Looks like that beau of yours is keeping secrets, Mace.”
“It’s a murder investigation, Maddie. Not pillow talk.” I ratcheted back my snippy tone. “Besides, Carlos already told me she came in voluntarily. He asked her in for a chat.”
Maddie pursed her lips. “And she ran right in, with no lawyer? That’s weird, considering her family’s connections.”
“If you can believe what you read in the papers,” Marty said.
I handed her the roll of tape. “Reporters can’t just make things up, Marty.”
Maddie stood back to scrutinize our handiwork. She unfastened Marty’s garland and re-taped it, more to her liking. Marty and I sniggered behind her back.
I thought about filling them in on Tony’s reaction. But I didn’t want to suffer Maddie’s lecture on how he came to be at my house last night when Carlos called with the news.
“Do you think C’ndee will show up to the party?” Marty replaced a bit of the drape Maddie had straightened.
“Of course,” Maddie said. “That woman has more brass than a lamp factory.”
The restaurant door swung open, sending in a shaft of sunlight and the chatter of women.
“Looks like the guests are starting to arrive. I’m going to duck into the Ladies before the party gets going,” I said.
I was inside a stall when I saw two sets of legs make their way to the bathroom mirror.
“I hope they serve those little fried mushrooms from the menu here. They’re yummy,” the first woman said.
“So is the bartender.” I recognized the sex and smokes sound of that second voice.
The first woman tittered. “It sure was nice of them to open up just for Rosalee’s party. I heard the owner is a former boyfriend of hers.”
“Frankly, who isn’t?” Dab Holt asked. “The woman has more exes than KFC has wings.”
I bit my lip to keep from laughing. I hid in the stall until I heard them leave, and then rushed back to the table and shared the joke with my sisters.
“At least Mama’s never taken a knife to any of her exes,” Maddie said.
“Dab told me yesterday the wound wasn’t fatal,” I said. “She said she did some time, but her conviction got overturned on appeal. Her attorney claimed she was a battered woman.”
“Humph,” Maddie said. “I can’t imagine anyone pushing that gal around.”
Marty said, “That’s not fair, Maddie. You never know what goes on behind closed doors.”
We were gabbing about whose checkered romantic past was worse, Mama’s or Dab’s, when Mama breezed in, Alice on her heels. Alice turned right, and Mama joined us.
“Well, I’m glad to see you three looking so cheerful. I thought you’d be crabby about having to come to another one of my many, many affairs.”
We burst out laughing. Mama raised an eyebrow, leaned toward us, and sniffed. “You girls haven’t been getting into the liquor already, have you?”
“No, ma’am,” we answered as one.
_____
By half past twelve, the party was in full swing. True to his word, Mama’s ex had arranged for a fried-food extravaganza. There were mushrooms, onion rings, and jalapeno poppers. Another platter held catfish, shrimp, and hush puppies. Celery was the only green thing not battered and fried on the table, and it was drenched in blue cheese dressing to go with the hot wings.
My stomach would be tied in knots right through the wedding.
All of a sudden, light slanted in from the open door and a hush fell over the crowd. Alan Jackson sang “Who’s Cheating Who?” on the jukebox. C’ndee stood for a moment in the sunbeam as if basking under a stage light.
When she made a beeline toward the bathroom, my sisters and I rose from the table and followed. We crowded in behind her as she primped at the mirror, outlining that full mouth in fire-engine red.
“Ladies,” she said, with a pop of her lips.
“C’ndee,” we chorused. And then Marty retreated to the wall as Maddie and I stepped all over each other to ask our questions.
“What did Carlos question you about?” I began
Maddie elbowed me aside. “Are you going to jail?”
I nudged her back and stepped to the mirror. “Where’d you disappear to?”
Maddie yanked the collar of my shirt and cut in front. “Is your nephew in the Mafia?”
C’ndee backed against the sink, holding up her hands. “Marty, call your sisters off, would’ya? For Gawd’s sake, I thought you Southerners were supposed to be so polite!”
Maddie crossed her arms and glared. I mumbled an apology. “We just have so many things we want to ask you.”
“I’ll take Maddie’s last question first.” C’ndee held up a finger. “No, Tony is not in the Mafia. And, as a proud Italian-American, I resent your assumption that he is.”
“We read about the family’s criminal enterprise up north,” I said.
She recovered quickly. “Sins of the fathers, ladies. You can’t blame Tony for his dad’s business dealings. Not that I’m saying any of that crap in the papers is true.”
I started to interrupt, but she held up a hand. “I believe I have the floor, Mace. Secondly, I’m not going to jail. Tony was about to call in the legal pit bulls when I phoned him last night to tell him I wasn’t being held, or even formally questioned. That cop, Carlos, was nothing but nice.”
“Really?” I couldn’t help myself.
She nodded. “He was much more interested in Darryl than in me. Now ladies, I don’t believe in regrets when it comes to men. But if I did, I’d regret my … uh, dalliance … with Darryl. That is one nasty cafone.”
“Amen.” I wasn’t sure what a cafone was, but I figured it wasn’t good. “Does Carlos think Darryl killed Ronnie?”
She shrugged. “Hard to tell.” She opened the lipstick again and re-applied.
“As for where I went …” She blotted her mouth. “I just needed time alone to think. I really did care for Ronnie. More than you might imagine. We planned to go into business, but it was more than that. I thought we’d settle down, maybe even marry, after he and Alice were divorced.”
C’ndee’s voice shook a bit. I looked at Maddie, whose arms were still tightly folded. Marty’s face, though, mirrored the sad expression on C’ndee’s. I came down in the middle: not as skeptical as Maddie; not as trusting as Marty.
C’ndee dropped her lipstick into her big purse and snapped the top with finality.
“Now, I’d like to get a drink and offer your mother my best wishes.” She glanced at her rhinestone-clotted watch. “I have a little surprise for her, too. Should arrive at any minute.”
She pushed through the door and we followed, three little ducklings brought into line.
Spotting Linda-Ann loading up on fried fish, shrimp, and wings at the buffet, I detoured in her direction. My sisters flanked me. After we said our hellos, I pointed to her plate.