chairs. I
was transfixed by the size of her tiny waist, made evident
by a dark green sash. "You really think Coleman will put
you in the slammer?" Jitty asked.
I was worried. Coleman's behavior had cut me to the
bone. As bad as heartbreak might be, the possibility of
going to jail was even worse. I'd eventually recover from
a broken heart-I'd done it before but thirty years in
jail wasn't something that time would mend.
"Sarah Booth, that man has been nothin' but trouble."
She put her hand to her throat where an exquisite cameo
rested in the hollow. "Then again, most men are trouble."
She put her hands on her hips and stood to face me.
"Out of all the men in Sunflower County, why did you
settle on Coleman Peters?"
Now that was a question I'd asked myself a number of
times. In the year I'd been home, I'd had more than one
chance to have a good man, but Coleman had stolen my
interest. Dahlia House and the land had been a stronger
pull than Hamilton Garrett V and Paris. Part of it, though,
had been Coleman. He'd been a married man, and even
though I'd thought we could never be together, I hadn't been able to completely forget him. Now that he was getting divorced, I'd allowed myself the fantasy of seeing a
future together. More fool, me.
"Well, talking to you is like talking to a wall!" Jitty
took a deep breath and her breasts almost spilled from the
low-cut gown.
"I think that dress is only suitable for evening wear." I
scrutinized the cap sleeves that attached to the off-theshoulder neckline. "It's January, Jitty, and you look like
you're headed to a barbecue at Twelve Oaks on a hot summer day. I think you're seasonally deluded."
"Throwing insults at me won't change the pickle
you've gotten yourself in, Missy. And I am going to a barbecue. You forget, where I reside it can be any season, any
year."
"I thought we were going to stay out of the past." I let
my gaze sweep over her attire, hoping to taunt her. I didn't
want her to leave. Once she went, I'd be all alone with my
thoughts, and they were exquisitely unpleasant.
"Throw a party, Sarah Booth. Have a barbecue" She
reached behind her and produced a picture hat. When
she placed it on her head, I almost sighed at the vision she
made. One eyebrow arched as she spoke. "Dahlia House
was meant for parties."
"Why should I have a party for people who think I'm a
murderer?" The idea of trying to entertain people was
enough to send me the rest of the way into a full-blown
anxiety attack.
"The whole town is talkin'. Folks think you killed Renata. Think what Scarlett would do"
"You're right!" She was, in a twisted kind of way, brilliant. "Scarlett would rub their noses in it." I had an inspiration. "Remember that candy lipstick Daddy used to buy for me! I haven't seen any for years, but I'll bet I can find
it on eBay!"
Jitty's smile told me I was on the right track.
"I'll play it to the hilt." The idea had taken on a life of
its own. "I'll invite the cast and crew. A strike party when
the show closes. I'll invite Coleman, too. And I'll have
candy lipstick as dessert"
"That's the spirit. Now make your guest list. I've got
places to go and people to see"
Jitty began to fade. As much as I wanted to keep her
with me, I didn't say anything. She had her own afterlife
to live. I was stuck with mine.
Two A.M. found me sitting at my computer. Instead of
sweet dreams of a film career, my mind had clung to the
image of Coleman in the parking lot telling Graf that I
couldn't leave Sunflower County because I was a murderer. Or murderess, depending on a person's semantic
preference. I didn't think it mattered to Coleman what
gender tag he put on the word. Judging by his conduct, he
really believed that I'd killed Renata.
I tried not to dwell on that and attempted to turn my
mind down another trail by researching what I could find
on Bobbe Renshaw. Graf had confided in me, even though
he hadn't yet told the authorities,
was transfixed by the size of her tiny waist, made evident
by a dark green sash. "You really think Coleman will put
you in the slammer?" Jitty asked.
I was worried. Coleman's behavior had cut me to the
bone. As bad as heartbreak might be, the possibility of
going to jail was even worse. I'd eventually recover from
a broken heart-I'd done it before but thirty years in
jail wasn't something that time would mend.
"Sarah Booth, that man has been nothin' but trouble."
She put her hand to her throat where an exquisite cameo
rested in the hollow. "Then again, most men are trouble."
She put her hands on her hips and stood to face me.
"Out of all the men in Sunflower County, why did you
settle on Coleman Peters?"
Now that was a question I'd asked myself a number of
times. In the year I'd been home, I'd had more than one
chance to have a good man, but Coleman had stolen my
interest. Dahlia House and the land had been a stronger
pull than Hamilton Garrett V and Paris. Part of it, though,
had been Coleman. He'd been a married man, and even
though I'd thought we could never be together, I hadn't been able to completely forget him. Now that he was getting divorced, I'd allowed myself the fantasy of seeing a
future together. More fool, me.
"Well, talking to you is like talking to a wall!" Jitty
took a deep breath and her breasts almost spilled from the
low-cut gown.
"I think that dress is only suitable for evening wear." I
scrutinized the cap sleeves that attached to the off-theshoulder neckline. "It's January, Jitty, and you look like
you're headed to a barbecue at Twelve Oaks on a hot summer day. I think you're seasonally deluded."
"Throwing insults at me won't change the pickle
you've gotten yourself in, Missy. And I am going to a barbecue. You forget, where I reside it can be any season, any
year."
"I thought we were going to stay out of the past." I let
my gaze sweep over her attire, hoping to taunt her. I didn't
want her to leave. Once she went, I'd be all alone with my
thoughts, and they were exquisitely unpleasant.
"Throw a party, Sarah Booth. Have a barbecue" She
reached behind her and produced a picture hat. When
she placed it on her head, I almost sighed at the vision she
made. One eyebrow arched as she spoke. "Dahlia House
was meant for parties."
"Why should I have a party for people who think I'm a
murderer?" The idea of trying to entertain people was
enough to send me the rest of the way into a full-blown
anxiety attack.
"The whole town is talkin'. Folks think you killed Renata. Think what Scarlett would do"
"You're right!" She was, in a twisted kind of way, brilliant. "Scarlett would rub their noses in it." I had an inspiration. "Remember that candy lipstick Daddy used to buy for me! I haven't seen any for years, but I'll bet I can find
it on eBay!"
Jitty's smile told me I was on the right track.
"I'll play it to the hilt." The idea had taken on a life of
its own. "I'll invite the cast and crew. A strike party when
the show closes. I'll invite Coleman, too. And I'll have
candy lipstick as dessert"
"That's the spirit. Now make your guest list. I've got
places to go and people to see"
Jitty began to fade. As much as I wanted to keep her
with me, I didn't say anything. She had her own afterlife
to live. I was stuck with mine.
Two A.M. found me sitting at my computer. Instead of
sweet dreams of a film career, my mind had clung to the
image of Coleman in the parking lot telling Graf that I
couldn't leave Sunflower County because I was a murderer. Or murderess, depending on a person's semantic
preference. I didn't think it mattered to Coleman what
gender tag he put on the word. Judging by his conduct, he
really believed that I'd killed Renata.
I tried not to dwell on that and attempted to turn my
mind down another trail by researching what I could find
on Bobbe Renshaw. Graf had confided in me, even though
he hadn't yet told the authorities,
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