02 - When Good Bras Go Bad Read online

  Ms. Tyler took the goblet and set it on the table. “Make it quick.”

  Alicia motioned for Sunny to come out into the hall with her. I went right behind them.

  “Sorry to put you on the spot, Crim, but somebody’s tryin’ to frame me.”

  “Not me!” Sunny cried. “You know I’d never do somethin’ like that.”

  “I know.” Alicia had the gall to smile. “But I had to get myself off the hook some way. If Ms. Tyler thought I stole a prop, I’d get kicked out of the play for sure.”

  “But now she thinks I stole it. Everyone does.”

  Alicia scoffed. “As a joke. It’s no big deal. I doubt anybody really thinks you’d steal a ninety-nine-cent cup.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Gotta run.”

  As she got about halfway to the stage, she hollered, “Everything’s okay! She promised she wouldn’t do it anymore!”

  Sunny closed her eyes, and two tears trickled out from under her eyelashes. I grabbed her and hugged her, but she pushed me away and shook her head.

  “Not here,” she said. “I don’t wanna cry here.”

  She sure cried going home in the car, though, and I did, too.

  “How could she do me that way?” Sunny asked. “I was good to her. I even covered for her when I thought maybe she took Mrs. Anderson’s bracelet out of spite.” She sniffled. “She’s been in so much trouble, and there wasn’t any proof.”

  I was smart enough to keep my mouth shut for once. I had plenty to say, but I’d say it later…probably to Matlock.

  “How could she be so mean to me, Mimi? I’d never do to her what she did to me. She embarrassed me and called me a thief in front of all those people.”

  “I know, baby. And I know how hurt you are. When somebody you care about betrays you, it’s the worst feelin’ in the world.” I had to stop at an intersection, so I turned and brushed the hair off her face. “It’s like when a good bra goes bad. First it lets you down, and then that underwire pokes you right in the heart.”

  She got tickled. “You say some of the weirdest things.”

  “I know. But I got you to smile.”

  The driver behind me blowed his horn. It made me so mad I started to give him the finger but I didn’t because I’m a good Christian woman and I was tryin’ to set an example for Sunny.

  Chapter Eight

  We rode a good four miles before Sunny said a word. I respected that and kept my own mouth shut. Finally, she took a tissue from the pack I keep in the glove compartment and wiped her eyes.

  “How could she do that, Mimi? How could Al stab me in the back that way?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “But I do know it hurts like the devil.”

  “Yeah, it does. Ain’t you gonna say ‘I told you so’?”

  “Huh-uh.” I took her hand. “You wanna go home with me until your mama gets off work?”

  “No. If you don’t mind, I’d rather go on home.”

  “All right. But you call me if you need me.”

  I dropped her off at her and Faye’s house and sat there in the driveway until I made sure she got in okay. Watchin’ her little bowed head and slumping shoulders made me feel the jab of sharp underwire in my own heart.

  My heart did get a lift, though, when I got home. There was Lenny in the front yard rakin’ maple leaves for all he was worth. He’d done filled one trash bag and was workin’ on another.

  “Hey, Ms. Crumb,” he said when I got out of the car. “I saw your leaves were tryin’ to take over the yard, so I decided to clean ‘em up a little bit.”

  “Well, I sure do appreciate it! What do I owe you?”

  “Nothin’.”

  “Oh, now, you’ve worked too hard for it to be for nothin’. Tell me what I owe you.”

  “Not a thing. You didn’t hire me to rake your leaves. I’m just tryin’ to be a good neighbor.” He grinned. “And make up for causin’ Granny to fuss at you.”

  I laughed. “It ain’t like I’ve never been fussed at. Tell you what. You come in when you’re done and I’ll have you some cookies fresh from the oven.”

  “I’m nearly done. You think you can whip up a batch of cookies that quick?”

  “I know I can. They’re the kind you just put on a cookie sheet and bake.”

  “Well, all right then. See you in a few minutes.”

  “I went in and turned on the oven before I let Matlock in. I gave him a hug and then washed my hands. I put both chocolate chip and sugar cookies on the cookie sheet. The sugar cookies are mainly for Matlock because he ain’t supposed to have chocolate. He loves his sugar cookies, though. When I put the cookies in to bake, Matlock sat there starin’ at the oven and waitin’ for the cookies to get done.

  True to my word, I was takin’ them out of the oven when I heard Lenny come in.

  “Man, them smell good,” he said. “I could smell ‘em plumb out in the yard.”

  “Get washed up while they’re coolin’.”

  He patted Matlock on his way to the sink. “Hey, buddy.” He squirted some hand soap into one palm and turned on the water. “I heard him in the backyard. Is that where he stays while you’re gone?”

  “Yeah, unless it’s cold or rainy. Then I leave him in the laundry room. But he’d much rather be outside.”

  Lenny shut off the water and dried his hands on a paper towel. “I don’t blame him. I’d rather be outside, too.”

  I transferred the cookies to a plate and set them on the table. “You want some milk or pop?”

  “A little milk’d be good.”

  I poured him a glass of milk. I didn’t have a cookie since I hadn’t had supper yet. Besides, I had somethin’ on my mind. I set Lenny’s milk on the table and gave Matlock a sugar cookie before sittin’ down at the table with Lenny.

  “Got a question for you,” I said. “If you wanted to set a trap to catch a thief, how would you do it?”

  Lenny got strangled on his milk, and I had to get up and pat him on the back and hold his arms up over his head.

  When he got composed, he asked, “Why you askin’ me?”

  “Because you’re a bright young man, and I need some ideas.” I told him about what happened at play practice.

  “That’s a shame,” he said. “Still, I reckon in a way it’s a good thing if it means you won’t be goin’ to that play Halloween night.”

  “I’m in a quandary about that, too,” I said with a sigh. “I told Alicia’s mother I’d give her a ride.”

  “I really wish you wouldn’t. A woman ought not be out by herself on Halloween. Ain’t no tellin’ what might happen. Besides, you don’t want Sunny gettin’ mad at you again.”

  “You’ve got a point. Still, a promise is a promise.”

  “Yeah, but you don’t owe Al or her mama a thing. Keepin’ Sunny happy and keepin’ yourself safe are the important things.”

  DIVIDER HERE

  Well, Lenny wasn’t a bit of help. Not only did he not help me with my plan, he gave me the heebie-jeebies about bein’ out on Halloween night. But I’d think about Halloween on Halloween. Right now I had to think about catchin’ a thief…and the odds of it bein’ Cary Grant were zilch or I might’ve had an easier time comin’ up with a plan...like puttin’ on my flapper costume and battin’ my eyes. That Cary always did like the women. Then again, maybe not always. I heard some rumors somewhere…. But you can’t believe everything you hear. On the other hand, I never would’ve thought Rock Hudson to be, you know, not a ladies man. Humph. But I didn’t have time to wonder about Cary and Rock. I had a plan to formulate.

  I was thinking about all this while I was stirrin’ spaghetti sauce. Crandall never was all that keen on spaghetti; but since he’s been gone, it’s been at least a once-a-week supper for me. It’s cheap, it’s easy and it tastes good. Plus Matlock likes it. Don’t get no better than that, now does it?

  All of a sudden, I heard the biggest ruckus ever out in the backyard. I’d put Matlock outside while I was getting supper ready, and now I heard him
barking. I also heard a young ‘un cryin’! I turned off the stove eyes and took off out the door.

  Thank goodness, the young ‘un wasn’t a young ‘un. It was Bettie Easton’s old gray tom cat Sweetie. I hadn’t seen the thing since before I got Matlock, but ol’ Sweetie Easton runs off from home every now and again.

  Do you blame him? If you was a boy cat and your name was Sweetie, wouldn’t you want to go off and hide your face every once in awhile? The other cats must tease him somethin’ awful. I don’t care if his family does have money. A bad name’ll follow you no matter what. Even if you’re a cat.

  Sorry I got off track. I was so relieved to see Sweetie Easton in the yard instead of a hurt young ‘un, I let myself get blown off course.

  Now poor little ol’ Matlock wasn’t doing a thing to that blasted cat except trying to defend himself. There was Sweetie all bowed up in the middle, makin’ that god-awful mournful racket with a paw raised like he was fixing to slap Matlock.

  I hollered, “Sweetie Easton, you’d better put that paw down right this instant! I mean it!”

  I’d always been cordial to Sweetie, partly ‘cause I feel bad that he has such a lousy name, but I was not about to let him come into Matlock’s very own sanctuary and smack him. That ain’t right. In fact, if Sweetie Easton was a person, he could be looking at trespassing charges at the very least. Not that I’d call the law on him, but I’m tryin’ to make a point.

  While I was scolding Sweetie, Matlock got between the two of us. I reckon he thought Sweetie might do me bodily harm…which is a possibility, mind you. Don’t you ever underestimate no cat. They can sure fling a hurtin’ on you if they’re of a mind to.

  Sweetie hissed at Matlock, and Matlock showed Sweetie every tooth in his head. Well, that did it for Sweetie Easton. He streaked across the yard with Matlock on his heels. Lucky for Sweetie, Matlock can’t shimmy up a fence post.

  “Here, Matlock!” I yelled. “Come on in.” He followed me back into the kitchen. “I don’t reckon we’ll see Sweetie Easton again for a few days.”

  I turned the stove eyes back on. “He’s not a bad cat really. I guess he can be a bit of a bully, but I’m pretty sure that’s because he has self-esteem issues.” I stirred my sauce. “Well, you know how it is. You were once abandoned…had to stay in that old shelter.”

  I turned around to see if Matlock was getting what I was tryin’ to say, but he’d laid down and was chewing on an old sock with a knot tied in the middle of it. He has other toys, but the sock is one of his favorites.

  At the moment, he was shakin’ the dickens out of that sock. I don’t know whether or not he was pretending that sock was Sweetie Easton. He might not’ve given Sweetie another thought. But I was still thinking about Sweetie long after supper. In fact, he’d given me an idea for my plan.

  DIVIDER HERE

  It was about nine o’clock when I called Bettie. “Sorry to be calling so late,” I said, “but I was concerned about poor little Sweetie. He came to see me while ago and was shocked to find Matlock here.”

  At the mention of his name, Matlock got up and moved closer to me. I petted his big ol’ head to reassure him he was way higher up on my totem pole than Sweetie Easton.

  “I appreciate you,” Bettie was saying, “but Sweetie’s layin’ right here on the couch.”

  “Well, good. I’m glad he got back home okay. “By the way….” Don’t you always say “by the way” when you’re getting to the point you was aiming to make in the first place? So I said, “By the way, that grandson of yours is doing a bang-up job playing Banquo in that play they’re puttin’ on at school.”

  “Thank you. I’ve not been to any of the rehearsals. I wanna see it for the first time opening night.”

  “Well, you won’t be disappointed.”

  “Is Crimson in the play?”

  “No, she didn’t seem to want to be in it, but one of her friends is playing Lady MacBeth.”

  “Oh, yes! That Alicia something-or-other.”

  “Alicia Granger.”

  “Right,” Bettie said.

  “I…uh…I wonder if you might help me with a little detective work.”

  “Detective work? That’s your forté, Myrtle.”

  “It’s nothing dangerous or anything. It’s just that somebody stole one of the play props today, and I’d hate for anything to keep the play from going on. Those young ‘uns have worked so hard.” I knew that’d get her.

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “I’ve got an old necklace that would go great with Alicia’s costume. It’s not real, but I thought if you or Brandon loaned it to the drama teacher to be used in the play—”

  “And if they thought it was real,” Betty interrupted, “then the thief might take the necklace and get caught.”

  “Exactly. What do you think?”

  “I think it just might work…depending on what that necklace looks like. Is it cheap costume jewelry or upscale?”

  “Upscale! Of course, I’ll let you see what you think before you get involved.”

  “Good idea,” Bettie said, as if she hadn’t just insulted me.

  “I’ll bring it by in the morning,” I said, as if I hadn’t just been insulted. I had to be nice. I needed Bettie’s help to pull off this caper.

  DIVIDER HERE

  I left early for the school Friday morning so I could go by Bettie’s house with the necklace. When I took it out of my pocketbook, Bettie said, “That’s a nice black velvet box it’s in.” She acted surprised I’d have something that came in a nice black velvet box.

  “It’s a nice necklace, too,” I said, opening the lid to the box. “I’ll be awfully upset if anything happens to it.”

  “Just remember, this whole thing was your idea.”

  “I know it.”

  She took the necklace out of the box and held it up to the light. It had teardrop-shaped green stones that looked like emeralds. The teardrops were smallish except for the big one in the middle.

  “It is a pretty thing,” Bettie said. “Looks like an antique.”

  “You think we—or rather, Brandon—can pull this off?”

  “Don’t worry about Brandon. He’s a fine little actor. You said that yourself.” She thought a minute. “We could say an old friend gave me this necklace before she died.”

  “Hey!” I didn’t like the sound of that at all.

  “But that’s perfect, Myrtle.”

  “Not to me, it ain’t.”

  “Hear me out. We can make this more plausible by making it the truth by omission.”

  I frowned at her.

  “We’re old friends, right?” she asked.

  I gave her a begrudging nod.

  “And you’re not dead, so you gave this to me before you died.”

  “Yeah, but I want it back.”

  “I know,” Bettie said, “but nobody else has to know that. I can tell Brandon I thought the necklace would add a little authenticity to the play since it’s so old.”

  I had to concede she was making sense.

  “And,” she continued, “I’ll tell Brandon to make sure everybody’s real careful with the necklace because I’ll need to put it back in my safe deposit box as soon as the play is over.”

  “You’ve told many a lie in your day, ain’t you, Bettie?”

  She grinned. “Maybe one or two.”

  DIVIDER HERE

  We had spaghetti and French bread in the cafeteria, so I was so busy come lunchtime I could hardly look up. Some lunchrooms don’t make good spaghetti. Faye always took her lunch on spaghetti days. But the spaghetti is pretty good at this school.

  Anyhow, I was spooning out spaghetti sauce as fast as I could go when Sunny’s class came through the line. I knew it was Sunny’s class because her friend Claire spoke to me.

  “Hi, Ms. Crumb.”

  “Hi, honey. How’re you?”

  “Fine. How’s Sunny?”

  I looked up at her. “You mean over what happened yesterday?” I gla
nced around to see where Alicia was. She was several people away, and I doubted she could hear me. “She’s upset over it, of course, but—”

  “No, that’s not what I mean. Why ain’t she at school?”

  I scanned the crowd again, this time looking for Sunny. “What do you mean?”

  “Sunny didn’t come to school today. My math teacher told me her mom called and said she was sick.”

  “Why didn’t Faye call me? I would’ve stayed with her.”

  Of course, Claire couldn’t answer that, and I didn’t expect her to. It was one of them questions you ask out loud when you just don’t know what’s going on.

  Chapter Nine

  I went straight to Faye’s and Sunny’s when I got done in the cafeteria.

  “You gonna tell Mom?” Sunny asked as soon as she opened the door.

  So Faye didn’t know. I figured as much. If the young ‘un had really been sick, Faye’d have either stayed home her own self or called and had me come stay. She wouldn’t have left Sunny home by herself if she was sick. She apparently didn’t know she’d left Sunny home by herself period.

  I sighed as I brushed past Sunny and took a seat in the living room. “I won’t tell her if you promise to do it yourself.”

  “But Mimi, she’ll—”

  “She’ll find out when report cards come out. It’ll be harder to explain then than it will be now.”

  Biting a fingernail, Sunny sat down on the edge of the couch. “I didn’t think of that.”

  “Why didn’t you go to school today?”

  She started on another nail. “I didn’t feel good.”

  “Where does it hurt?”

  “My feelings, okay? My feelings were hurt! Can’t they hurt worse than a bellyache?”

  I got up, moved over to the couch and hugged her. “Yeah. Feelings can hurt a whole lot worse than a bellyache. If it’s any consolation, several of your friends asked about you.”

  “Which ones?”

  “Claire first. She’s how I knew you weren’t in school.”

  Sunny drew back from me. “What’d she say?”