Read Online Divas and Dead Rebels by Virginia Brown - Free Book Online Page B

right at Bitty, who was scooping up her last bite of pie. After she finished her last bite of butter roll, she looked up, saw us staring at her and said, “What? Have I got food on my face?”
    She put up one hand to brush away imaginary crumbs, and while I shook my head, Rayna said, “Bitty, you . . . you moved him?”
    “Didn’t you hear me say he was in Clayton’s closet? Of course we moved him. I wasn’t taking any chances someone would think he’d been killed there by my son.”
    “But . . . but . . .” Rayna seemed at a loss for words and looked back at me. Since I couldn’t think of a thing to say that would help her understand, I just shrugged.
    She leaned back in her chair again. Finally she said, “Do you remember the last time we disturbed a crime scene?”
    “There have been so many times—refresh me on which one you mean,” said Bitty.
    “Okay. Let’s talk about the time we moved another body. Do you recall how that worked out?”
    Bitty thought for a moment, then a light came on in her upstairs windows—by that I mean her eyes got brighter—and she nodded. “Oh yes. Philip. He ended up moved around a lot more than I intended, I do recall that very well. He should have been that quiet and agreeable when he was still alive.”
    “Right. Okay. So then, you do remember that the police were very upset with us for tampering with evidence, disturbing a crime scene and moving a corpse? If not for Jackson Lee, we would all probably still be in jail.”
    Nodding, Bitty said, “Jackson Lee is wonderful, isn’t he?”
    “Bitty,” I said, “I think the point Rayna is trying to make is that we’ve once more become involved in activities that could put us in jail.”
    “Well for heaven’s sake, Trinket, you’ve only said that about a dozen times.”
    I looked at Rayna. “Do you see what I was dealing with? She had a convenient bout with memory loss every time I tried to stop her from moving the professor. I will say this, I think Bitty was right when she said the professor was murdered elsewhere. It sounds as if he was killed at his home, from what you just told us.”
    “See there?” Bitty beamed at me. “I was right!”
    “Don’t strain anything patting yourself on the back,” I said, “because that’s the only time the entire weekend that you were right.”
    “Not true. I was right about the Rebels beating the Bulldogs, wasn’t I? Even though the score was really close, Ole Miss won the game. The Colonel was done proud.”
    “He’s not the mascot anymore,” said Rayna. “Remember? The Rebels are now represented by a black bear and not the Colonel.”
    Bitty waved one hand at her. “I know, I know, but Colonel Reb was at The Grove anyway, so it’s not like he’s gone forever. But it’s best that all the students be okay with things, I suppose, and not feel uncomfortable about their mascot. Ole Miss will always be the Rebels, even if our mascot is in a black bear costume next time.”
    “Can we get back to what happened to the professor?” I asked when she paused to take a breath, and Bitty looked a little surprised.
    “What else is there to say, Trinket? He’s dead, and now the police will find it out, and then they’ll find the killer, and everything will be okay, just like I told you.”
    “Uh, Bitty—aren’t you forgetting a small detail?” I asked, and she blinked at me a couple of times before slowly shaking her head.
    “No, I don’t think so, Trinket. That pretty much sums it up.”
    I leaned over my dessert plate to whisper loud enough for her and Rayna to hear but not so loud people at the next table heard us: “We found the professor dead in your sons’ dorm room, so the killer probably put him there. Why?”
    “Oh, well . . . oh lord ! Someone’s trying to frame my boys for murder!”
    “Keep your voice down, Bitty,” Rayna said. “People are starting to stare.”
    Bitty snatched up her black Chanel tote and began digging inside it.