Prince Charles is married to a divorced woman, and he’s still going to be king one day.”
“I just can’t believe Charles would prefer that cow-faced woman to Princess Di,” said Bitty, who had cried for a week after Diana’s tragic death.
“It’s not always about looks,” said Rayna. “Diana was beautiful, sweet, and kind, but if Charles only married her for children and not love, then it would never have been a happy marriage whether the other woman was there or not. Diana just had the misfortune to be caught in the middle.”
“I remember getting up before daylight just to watch the wedding on TV,” I said. “It was such a fairytale come true. Or so we thought.”
“Sometimes dreams that come true end up as nightmares we can’t escape,” said Gaynelle. “It’d be interesting to know if Dixie Lee regrets writing about all those events just to sell a book. Now she’s getting death threats, and old friends won’t even talk to her.”
“Well, I say she deserves it,” Bitty remarked as she gathered up her purse and took out her wallet. “She should have been nicer. Y’all tell me how it turns out after you’ve talked to half the town to find out who wants to kill her. If I’m not already in a nursing home somewhere gumming my food, I might care enough to listen.”
I laughed. “Are you suggesting this might take a while, Bitty?”
“I’m saying y’all never should have agreed to find out who’s sending death threats. There are too many people who’d like to see Dixie Lee dead. I’m going home, but you all just go right on.”
“Well,” said Rayna after Bitty left and we paid our bill, “who should we talk to first?”
“Billy Joe Cramer,” Gaynelle answered immediately. “He’s the likeliest suspect.”
“What are we going to say?” I asked as we went to Rayna’s SUV parked at the curb. It was cold, a bitter wind blowing clouds from the west. I pulled my warm wool coat more tightly around me.
“Maybe we should start off with some kind of pretense about our reason for asking questions,” Rayna suggested. “After all, we can’t just go in there and ask if he’s been sending Dixie Lee death threats without making him mad right off the bat. We need to work our way around to it.”
By the time we got to the machine shop Billy Joe owns with his partner, it had been decided that Gaynelle was our designated speaker. She’d tutored Billy Joe in English when he was in high school so he could graduate. He’d barely squeaked past, she said, even with a seven point grade curve.
When we arrived, Billy Joe was in his office. He came out, a tall, lanky man with gray hair, a permanent squint, and the black-oil encrusted fingernails of his profession. He wore a dingy thermal shirt under his coveralls and thick boots that were so scuffed the original color was uncertain. He didn’t seem particularly pleased to see us.
“My car has been acting up,” Gaynelle started out, “and you were recommended.”
Billy Joe scratched the bristle along his jawline. “I thought you used Valentine’s,” he said. “Ain’t seen you come in here before.”
“I’m not sure Valentine’s can fix it. I’ve been twice, and it’s still making the same noise. It’s a sound like brrrrt! brrrrt! under the hood.”
Billy Joe nodded. “Bring it in, and I’ll see what I can do. Could just be a loose fan belt, though if Valentine’s didn’t fix it, it’s probably something else.”
“Excellent. I wasn’t sure you’d be available since all the new people have come to town. Those movie people always seem to just take over, don’t they?”
“I guess. Couldn’t say. What make and model is your car?”
“A Toyota Camry. It’s been a good car, and I want to be sure I take care of it.”
He nodded. “When do you want to bring it in, Miz Bishop?”
“Let’s see, I know there are movie people here shooting scenes in the town this week so maybe next week sometime? I can call for an
“I just can’t believe Charles would prefer that cow-faced woman to Princess Di,” said Bitty, who had cried for a week after Diana’s tragic death.
“It’s not always about looks,” said Rayna. “Diana was beautiful, sweet, and kind, but if Charles only married her for children and not love, then it would never have been a happy marriage whether the other woman was there or not. Diana just had the misfortune to be caught in the middle.”
“I remember getting up before daylight just to watch the wedding on TV,” I said. “It was such a fairytale come true. Or so we thought.”
“Sometimes dreams that come true end up as nightmares we can’t escape,” said Gaynelle. “It’d be interesting to know if Dixie Lee regrets writing about all those events just to sell a book. Now she’s getting death threats, and old friends won’t even talk to her.”
“Well, I say she deserves it,” Bitty remarked as she gathered up her purse and took out her wallet. “She should have been nicer. Y’all tell me how it turns out after you’ve talked to half the town to find out who wants to kill her. If I’m not already in a nursing home somewhere gumming my food, I might care enough to listen.”
I laughed. “Are you suggesting this might take a while, Bitty?”
“I’m saying y’all never should have agreed to find out who’s sending death threats. There are too many people who’d like to see Dixie Lee dead. I’m going home, but you all just go right on.”
“Well,” said Rayna after Bitty left and we paid our bill, “who should we talk to first?”
“Billy Joe Cramer,” Gaynelle answered immediately. “He’s the likeliest suspect.”
“What are we going to say?” I asked as we went to Rayna’s SUV parked at the curb. It was cold, a bitter wind blowing clouds from the west. I pulled my warm wool coat more tightly around me.
“Maybe we should start off with some kind of pretense about our reason for asking questions,” Rayna suggested. “After all, we can’t just go in there and ask if he’s been sending Dixie Lee death threats without making him mad right off the bat. We need to work our way around to it.”
By the time we got to the machine shop Billy Joe owns with his partner, it had been decided that Gaynelle was our designated speaker. She’d tutored Billy Joe in English when he was in high school so he could graduate. He’d barely squeaked past, she said, even with a seven point grade curve.
When we arrived, Billy Joe was in his office. He came out, a tall, lanky man with gray hair, a permanent squint, and the black-oil encrusted fingernails of his profession. He wore a dingy thermal shirt under his coveralls and thick boots that were so scuffed the original color was uncertain. He didn’t seem particularly pleased to see us.
“My car has been acting up,” Gaynelle started out, “and you were recommended.”
Billy Joe scratched the bristle along his jawline. “I thought you used Valentine’s,” he said. “Ain’t seen you come in here before.”
“I’m not sure Valentine’s can fix it. I’ve been twice, and it’s still making the same noise. It’s a sound like brrrrt! brrrrt! under the hood.”
Billy Joe nodded. “Bring it in, and I’ll see what I can do. Could just be a loose fan belt, though if Valentine’s didn’t fix it, it’s probably something else.”
“Excellent. I wasn’t sure you’d be available since all the new people have come to town. Those movie people always seem to just take over, don’t they?”
“I guess. Couldn’t say. What make and model is your car?”
“A Toyota Camry. It’s been a good car, and I want to be sure I take care of it.”
He nodded. “When do you want to bring it in, Miz Bishop?”
“Let’s see, I know there are movie people here shooting scenes in the town this week so maybe next week sometime? I can call for an
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