“Didn’t you need to make an appointment about something? Those hemorrhoids of yours, for instance?”
Shocked, Scarlett glared at her. “I don’t have hemorrhoids.”
“You don’t? So maybe one of your fake boobs sprang a leak?”
Scarlett’s lips drew together into a thin line, which was an amazing feat, given the fact that they were stuffed to the gills with collagen. “One day, Vesta, something really nasty will happen to you. Something that’s gonna knock that mean streak you got right out of you. And when it does, you’ll need a friend, and you’ll be sad to discover you don’t have any friends. You managed to scare them all away with that forked tongue of yours.”
“Oh, just buzz off, will you? And tell Dick his phone is a piece of junk.”
“I will tell him no such thing. And when we’ve been going steady for a month, and he gifts me a diamond necklace, I’ll tell him he’s much better off with me than he ever was with you. If he’d stayed with you he probably would have found himself murdered and stuffed down your basement, and that skeleton they found is living proof I’m right.”
And with this powerful harangue she was finally off, slamming the door as she went.
“Skeleton… living proof,” Gran muttered with a grin as she wrote down the gist of the conversation. She’d been keeping a diary for a while now, all colorful stories about the colorful people that inhabited this colorful town of hers. Odelia often borrowed from her observations for her pieces in the Gazette. She could have used a note-taking app on her phone, of course, but with the NSA spying on every phone in existence, she didn’t need her deepest darkest secrets being salivated over by some government pencil pusher.
Having preserved Scarlett’s words for posterity, she picked up her phone and called her daughter. Marge picked up at the first ring. “So who the hell is that dead body?”
Chapter 9
Marge was hanging up the laundry in the backyard when her phone demanded her attention. She picked it out of her apron pocket and pressed the red Connect button. “Yes, Ma?” she said dutifully.
“So who the hell is that dead body in your basement?”
“My basement? Our basement, you mean.”
“Not when there’s dead bodies. Then it’s your basement. So who is it?”
“We don’t know yet. Abe was here and took the body and he’ll run some tests.”
“What tests? To make sure it’s really dead? Abe is losing it, honey.”
“Not to see if it’s dead. To figure out who it is.”
“Well, it’s not your father, that much I can tell you.”
“Of course it’s not my father. I know that much.”
“And don’t you forget it, oh, daughter of mine.”
Marge’s expression softened. “Have people been saying things?”
“If with people you mean Scarlett Canyon then yes, they’ve been saying I killed my husband and dumped his body in the basement.”
“That’s impossible. That skeleton has been there for many, many years. Probably way before we bought the house.” She suppressed a shiver. “Can you imagine we lived in that house all these years with a dead person in the basement? I must have passed that spot hundreds of times, without knowing there was a dead person buried there. It’s simply too horrible to contemplate.”
“Then don’t. What does Alec say?”
“He’s very upset, too. Especially since Abe will need a lot of time to figure this out.”
“Weren’t there any clothes, a watch, a wallet or something?”
“There are remnants of clothes. Rags, really. Abe thinks it’s a man, judging from the bone structure. Oh, and he found a brooch, so that tells me it might be a woman.”
“Or a dude wearing a brooch,” said Vesta. “Was it a nice brooch?”
“A very nice brooch. Looks very expensive. At least if those diamonds are real, of course. They could be zirconium, though I don’t think so. They looked real to me.”
“So did you pocket the brooch?”
“No, of course not. Why would I pocket the brooch?”
“To sell it, of course. If it’s as valuable as you say it is, it might net us a small fortune.”
“God, Ma. I’m not even deigning that obscene suggestion with a response.”
“So how about the leak? At least tell me Gwayn plugged the leak.”
“No, he didn’t. And he’s not allowed to go anywhere near that basement because Alec turned it into a crime scene. So until he decides otherwise…”
“No water.”
“No water,” said Marge miserably. “I had to use Odelia’s machine to do the laundry, and I guess we’ll have to go over there for our showers and meals, too. In fact we might as well move in with her and Chase, as I don’t feel comfortable staying here as long as that body is still downstairs.”
“Why? It’s been there all this time and you were never bothered.”
“That’s because I didn’t know it was there, Ma.”
“Anyway, I just called to tell you that I’m going to be needing that basement from now on. At least once that dead carcass is carted out of there.”
“You’re going to need the basement? Why? What are you planning to do with it?”
“Turning it into a bunker, of course, what else?”
Marge closed her eyes. This was too much. First the water thing, then the skeleton, and now her mother was going nuts on her again. “Listen, Ma. I can’t deal with this right now, so whatever you’ve got in mind, please don’t tell me, all right?”
“Sure, fine. Be that way. It’s your funeral.” And with these words, the old lady disconnected.
“My funeral indeed,” Marge muttered as she tucked away her phone. A voice sounding nearby had her jump about a foot in the air.
“So a dead body, huh? How about that?”
It was Marcie from next door. Marge moved to the hedge dividing the two backyards and gave up a sigh of exasperation. “It’s been one hell of a morning, Marcie, let me tell you that.”
“I’ll bet it has. First the water thing and now this body, huh?”
Marcie and Ted had been Marge and Tex’s neighbors for twenty-five years. In fact both couples had moved into their respective homes around the same time, and had become firm friends and friendly neighbors ever since. Not that they dropped in on each other all the time, but they had regular chats over the dividing hedge, just like now.
“So do they know who it is?” asked Marcie. She was a dark-haired woman, going a little gray now, with a stern face and a deep groove between her brows that looked as if it had been cut with a knife. She had a slim figure Marge had always envied, even though she was quite slender herself.
“No idea,” said Marge. “Though I have a feeling it could have been there for decades.”
“The first thing Ted told me was that Vesta must have dumped one of her old boyfriends down there.” She laughed, but Marge wasn’t laughing along.
“Is that what people are saying?”
“No, well, yes, probably. But you know I don’t take any of that stuff seriously, right?”
Marge nodded. She could probably expect some curious glances when she went grocery shopping. “Do you remember the Bakers?” she asked.
“Phyllis, yes. Her husband? I don’t think so. We moved in a couple of months after you and Tex did, remember? The only people I remember are the Coopers, though we only met once. They’d moved out before we took our first look at the house. We mainly dealt with the realtor at the time.”
“Well, the husband wasn’t in the picture when we moved in. I remember Phyllis very well, though, and her daughter, of course. Rita Baker was Odelia’s babysitter for years.”
“Oh, of course. She moved into an apartment on Grover Street, didn’t she?”
“She did. And was so wonderful to knock ten percent off the price when Odelia bought the house. She had a brother, too, though we never saw much of him.”