"You're sure it's not Brother Verber?" whispered Mrs. Jim Bob, who was calmer but still trembling.
"I'm sure." I went to Estelle's room and called the hospital. "Dr. Deweese, please," I said.
"He left about an hour ago for Memphis. He'll be back on Monday. If there's an emergency, you're supposed to-"
"Is Carlette there?"
"She damn well better be. Hang on and I'll transfer you to the nurses' station."
I recognized Carlette's voice when she answered the phone. I identified myself, then said, "How's Ruby Bee?"
"Just doing real well, honey. She passed an enormous gallstone. It wasn't like a basketball or anything, but it was big enough to have caused all her misery. She's out of pain and sleeping like a baby. Dr. Deweese said she can go home in the morning."
I fell back on the bed as a knot of anxiety three times bigger than a basketball began to unravel. "She's okay? Her fever's down?"
"Coming down. Her head'll clear up now that she's off the pain medication. She told me to tell you to leave her be so she can get a decent night's sleep. She'll expect you at eight o'clock tomorrow morning, and she wants biscuits and gravy for breakfast."
I forced myself to sit up. "Thanks, Carlette. I'll tell Dr. Deweese how supportive you've been. I hope you get a raise or something."
Carlette laughed. "About all I can expect is to be named employee of the week. That's means I get to decide what kind of pizza we'll order on Friday. Other than that, I'll be making minimum wage till I retire in forty years."
"I need another favor," I said. "I left Ruby Bee's bag in the closet in her room. Could you find a safe place to keep it until tomorrow, preferably a locked cabinet or store room?"
"Somebody hot to steal her nightgown?"
"Just do this, please, and don't mention it to anyone else. I'll explain in the morning."
"Whatever," she said.
When I went out to the hall, I found Estelle waiting for me. I told her the news about Ruby Bee, and both of us were damp when we finished hugging. "That means we can leave tomorrow," I added. "I can hardly wait to see this place in the rearview mirror."
"Mackenzie said that the body on the balcony is the bald man. What in tarnation was he doing in there? Was he looking for Jim Bob?"
"I don't know why he went in there. His colleague had already searched the room earlier today. Maybe the two of them had a falling out late this afternoon. The man with the brown hair thought the room would be a safe place to leave the body for the rest of the day."
Estelle gnawed on her lip. "Nope, on account of I saw the bald man with Cherri Lucinda right when I hit the jackpot. I left the casino not more than five minutes later, and that's when that nasty man poked me with a gun and made me get into the elevator with him."
"Is there anything else you forgot to mention?"
"Don't get your nose out of joint. I did think to ask Cherri Lucinda about the bald man. She said he was nothing more than a customer who'd shown up at the club where she works."
"Yo?" called Baggins as he came down the hall. "I have been looking all over the casino, but not one tour member is down there. The show starts in ten minutes, and your tickets are paid for." He nodded at me. "You can have your mama's. C'Mon Tours wants everybody to be happy."
"Oh, Baggins, we are all happy," I said. "Cherri Lucinda and Rex are in this room. I can't promise they're in the mood for Elvisaromatica, but you can ask."
" Taylor 's in there, too," contributed Estelle. "Of course the only thing that's gonna perk her up is Todd walking through the door."
"Where is he?" asked Baggins.
"Why don't you ask her?" I said as I steered him into the room.
The room was growing crowded. Taylor and Mrs. Jim Bob were off in the corner conversing; from their expressions, I had a feeling the perfidy of the male species was the subject. Cherri Lucinda and Rex had appropriated the two chairs. Mackenzie was seated on a bed, watching the others as if he anticipated a pack attack. Baggins opened his mouth, then closed it and moved to a neutral corner.
Nobody seemed to have much to say. I was about to suggest we turn on CNN when Japonica and Chief Sanderson came into the room.
"Medical examiner and paramedics are next door," Sanderson said gruffly. "This is a right dangerous place to stay. I'm thinking I'll get my mother-in-law a room when she comes this summer. Anybody have anything to say?"
"I do, Floyd," I said. "You had no way of knowing that all this goes back to what took place at a nightclub in Farberville earlier in the week. The name of the club is the Dew Drop Inn."
"You're making this up!" squeaked Cherri Lucinda. "The only thing that ever happens is when some drunk throws a frat boy through a window, and that's not more than two or three times a month."
"It was a tad more serious. A drug deal went haywire, and in the confusion someone absconded with fifty thousand dollars and a kilo of cocaine. Stormy, to be precise. She thought the Elvis Pilgrimage would be a safe way to get out of the state, but two of the unhappy dealers came after her. Several of the tour members spotted them, and Baggins here was gracious enough to spell out the itinerary for them."
"I did no such thing," Baggins said indignantly.
Estelle jabbed a finger in his direction. "I saw you talking to them, Hector Baggins. Don't go pretending they wanted your grandma's recipe for turnip greens. You were so scared you almost pissed your pants."
"Did not!" he snapped.
"Did, too!" she shot back.
I intervened before they degeneratated into spitting and hairpulling. "Yes, you did. All they wanted was Stormy's bag, but she was hanging onto it like a cockleburr. They had no luck Thursday night in Memphis, and they had no luck Friday night because C'Mon Tours never showed up at the motel in Tupelo. The two men arrived here today. One of them forced his way into this room and searched the bags. Someone tipped them off that Stormy had graciously offered to bring Estelle's and Ruby Bee's bags to their room, so eventually the same man created an opportunity to search their bags, too. It did not end well for him."
Cherri Lucinda waved her hand. "Okay, so what you're saying might explain why Stormy came along with us. But you're also saying this bald man and the other one weren't even here when Stormy was pushed off the balcony at dawn this morning. Did Jim Bob do it after all?"
"He most certainly did not?" snapped Mrs. Jim Bob. She narrowed her eyes. "Why does that concern you, missy? Have I seen you somewhere before?"
Japonica moved into the space between them. "Go ahead, Arly. This is better than a miniseries."
I shrugged. "No, Jim Bob didn't do it. The person who did it was desperate for money, and he had a good idea what he might find in Stormy's bag, assuming he could get it. Desperate for money because he's a compulsive gambler. How much did you lose last night, Rex?"
"A significant sum," he said crossly.
"I thought he was an Elvis scholar," said Taylor. "Besides, he's a college professor. He's most assuredly not the sort to be a compulsive gambler. They shoot craps in filthy basements and hang out at racetracks."
"Not always. Rex is so dedicated to gambling that he donned a disguise and infiltrated the tour simply to get into the casino. How long ago were you banned from every casino along this strip?"
"Who says I was?"
"I do," said Mackenzie. "The hairpiece had me fooled, but now that I have a good look at-"
"So what? You asses refused me credit just when I felt my luck change. I had to recoup my losses. I play a very sophisticated system that is inherently foolproof, but it takes time for the odds to shift in my favor."
Chief Sanderson glared at him until he looked away. "So he's a frustrated gambler. How does that get him in here-and out?"
I leaned against the edge of the dresser. "He ran out of cash long about dawn. He'd often met his bookie at the Dew Drop Inn, so he recognized Stormy just as Cherri Lucinda recognized him that first day in the van."