"What police investigation?" I muttered aloud, just to hear a human voice. Lord, within twenty-four hours I'd be singing hymns and having debates with myself. I threw a walnut at a squirrel that had ventured too near, then picked up my book and settled in. Nine-eleven. Over and out.
"And she claimed not to know where Arly is?" Estelle said in an incredulous voice. "You know as well as you know the nose on your face that LaBelle is lying through her teeth-which anyone can see are nothing more than mail-order dentures. Arly wouldn't waltz away in the middle of all this confusion, what with Buchanon bush colts all over town and Robin Buchanon deader than a doorknob up in the woods." She patted a stray wisp into place and propped her elbows on the bar. Lowering her voice to a husky whisper, she added, "I find that mighty suspicious."
"What?" Ruby Bee asked. "LaBelle lying, Arly waltzing, Buchanons all over Maggody, or Robin the victim of an accident?"
"All of it," Estelle said grandly.
"Don't wake Baby. This is the first time I've had a chance to sit down and take a load off my feet. Dahlia didn't come in last night, so I had to run myself ragged between the bar, the booths, and the kitchen. I suppose she's decided to quit. I'd have thought she had the common courtesy to tell me to my face, instead of just plain not showing up. She didn't even drop off the apron I made especially for her."
"Well, there's no point in fretting over her. Breeding shows, if you know what I mean. But what are we going to do about finding out the identity of Baby's father?"
"What can we do? The midwife says she never attended Robin's birthings, and wouldn't have any way on account of Robin being the way she was. We wasted a good hour over there, all for nothing. The Bar and Grill was closed right in the middle of the Friday happy hour, which cost me a pretty penny. Then Baby cried half the night, and I couldn't get back to sleep, and-"
"We can't give up yet, Miz Throw-in-the-Towel."
It occurred to Ruby Bee that they certainly could give up if they wanted to. It also occurred to her that Estelle had failed to have a precious little overnight visitor, and therefore had had considerably more sleep than some she could name. Leaning against the counter, she pointed out all of the above in a voice that was reasonably polite, considering.
"That was an innocent oversight," Estelle said indignantly. "I had to hurry off because I had to finish Elsie's perm so I could have a session with Madam Celeste, if you must know. Some people are acting like real busybodies these days, aren't they?"
Ruby Bee let the insinuation slide by her. "What'd Madam Celeste say?"
"She didn't say anything because she refused to see me. Mason was real nice about it, though, and invited me to sit down for a soda or a glass of iced tea. He's the politest thing."
She and Ruby Bee exchanged looks that verged on telepathy.
"He's single, you know," Estelle said.
"He doesn't have a real job," Ruby Bee pointed out.
"But he's personable and polite," Estelle countered. "Politer than a door-to-door missionary with a handful of religious tracts. Dresses like one, too, in a nice jacket and tie, just like he was going to a funeral."
"Nobody said they have to get married," Ruby Bee said, nodding. "I suspect Arly's been keeping company with David Allen Wainright, although she's so tight-lipped that it's hard to get a word out of her. Anyway, it'd do her some good to have a couple of suitors for a change. I worry about her."
"And well you should." Estelle took a sip of sherry, then carefully dabbed her lipstick with a napkin. "Imagine a daughter leaving town without telling her own mother where she was going. And she never did ask Madam Celeste to help her with the investigation, you know. She just scooted out of town without bothering to cancel the appointment or anything."
"Just imagine," Ruby Bee said. "You'd think she'd never been taught any manners, or that she doesn't have enough sense to take help from someone who's maybe a teensy bit odd."
"Someone who's proved she can assist the police, who can find missing people as easy as snapping her fingers."
"Madam Celeste will be right offended if no one shows up to ask her for help."
"But Arly already knows what happened to Robin Buchanon." Estelle wasn't arguing; she was just building a case for any future defense.
Ruby Bee chewed on that one for a few minutes. "But," she said slowly, "she doesn't know who fathered all those children, and now that they're orphans, it's real important to find out. David Allen told me he was going to question the children today, but he didn't anticipate much success. He said Arly asked him to do it, too."
"Well, there you have it! That just shows that Arly would appreciate any assistance she can get. We tried the midwife, and that resulted in a big, fat goose egg if there ever was one. We know there aren't any birth certificates at the hospital. Robin sure isn't going to offer up any information from the funeral parlor."
"Do you think Madam Celeste could identify the fathers just by thinking real hard? Wouldn't we need to take her something so she could grasp the cosmic vibrations or whatever it is she does?"
It was Estelle's turn to chew. "We can't steal Robin's body and take it over there; the sheriff would have a fit. We just need something that belongs to Robin."
Ruby Bee stared at the storeroom door, behind which was a crib and the sweetest thing you ever laid eyes on. "Something comes to mind, now that I think about it. I just hate to wake him up and set him off howling and screaming the rest of the day."
"That little dumpling? We'll carry him out to my station wagon, and I'll drive slower than smoke off a manure pile. He won't notice a thing until we're back here, all safe and sound. And he can sleep better because we'll know the identity of his dear pappy, who loves him and can come pick him up to take home with him." Estelle picked up her purse and settled her sunglasses on her nose. "Fetch the baby, Ruby Bee. It's almost ten o'clock."
Ruby Bee fetched as carefully as she could, but Baby was screaming like one of those punk rockers by the time they drove out of the parking lot of Ruby Bee's Bar and Grill.
At ten o'clock I reported in to the sheriff's office. Once LaBelle finished informing me that I was supposed to wait four hours, which would make it twelve instead of ten, I asked if there had been any further communiqués from Ruby Bee or Mrs. Jim Bob.
"Not a word from either of them, honey. Nobody has any messages for me to send to you. You don't have to worry about that."
Rather than relieving me, the silence struck me as ominous. "Did you ever find out what was going on at Mrs. Jim Bob's house while she was putting in all those hysterical messages for me?" I asked.
"Can't say I ever inquired," LaBelle said with an audible sniff. "You know perfectly well that I am not supposed to discuss police business with civilians."
I scratched my nose as I tried to make sense of that remark. As I opened my mouth to point out that I was police, LaBelle informed me that she had to make a visit to the little girls' room and that she would look forward to hearing from me in four hours. I hurriedly asked her to check up at the high school to see if Kevin Buchanon had come to work yesterday, and to ask his parents if he was at home today. LaBelle made a gurgly noise and told me to take care, bye-bye.
I went back to my nest, telling myself that David Allen had things under control at Mrs. Jim Bob's house. He probably had a list of the fathers and was busy calling them one by one to tell them the good news. Mrs. Jim Bob was plying him with fresh coffee and pecan pie, while the Buchanons frolicked like puppies in the front yard. As for Ruby Bee, perhaps she wasn't in the midst of doing something she knew darn well would irritate me, if not enrage me. She was counting spoons or bathing the baby, or serving up heaping plates of chicken fried steaks, gravy, green beans cooked with salt pork, crisp fried okra, mashed potatoes, cherry cobbler…