She shook her head, as if she had suffered yet another indignity.
“Mother, do you know Lena Ward could have very well killed our friend Glenway?” Imogene continued staring at the mansion. “And you just ran over there and started helping her like y’all were at a church picnic.”
“Bull mess, son. That woman wouldn’t kill a snake if she seen it in her bathtub. Y’all need to look elsewhere if you thank she done it. Lord, and her a widow woman like me with arthritis. Y’all think the awfullest things. No wonder you use that blood-pressure cuff so much.” She crossed her arms and watched another streetcar lumber down the avenue, angling her body to follow its track.
“Mother, you always have to exaggerate. I’m glad I did hear that tidbit about Neil and Allen, because you weren’t planning to tell us, were you?” Billy turned the AC vent to his face. His hair stuck to the sides of his head.
“I was gonna tell you. When we got settled. But Lena told it in confidence, and I didn’t wanna go ringin’ the bell on sweet Neil and Allen. It ain’t right. Way I figure it, them boys was good to the Gilbert boy, just like they’ve been good to me and Lena and most ’specially they been good to y’all.” She tapped them both on the shoulder. “And the Gilbert boy just wanted to hep ’em all he could. Shoot, you know we got people like that, Billy McGregor, and they’d do the same cockeyed thing for them they loved.” Imogene hit the console in between the boys when she said it. Goose barked and then jumped up on all fours.
“Yes, Mother, but those people aren’t suspected of murder, now, are they?” Billy ripped the cuff from his arm.
“Shoot, you talk like a boy with a paper rump. Next thing, since y’all already accused Neil and Allen and a senior citizen who can hardly walk right, you’ll be accusin’ me too. If y’all are gonna act like this, you may as well put me on a train back to Alabama.” She slammed her back against the seat and turned her head.
“Jackson, forget it. Just drive. Mama’s obviously so tired she can’t think straight.” Billy cracked open a bottle of water and tried to hand it to her, but she wouldn’t take it. She pushed it back twice before Jackson took a big swig. “Ahhh.” He looked in the mirror and saw her mumbling to herself. “Come on, Maw. Don’t be mad. I’m just surprised you don’t find it a bit odd.”
She refused to respond. All she did was pet Goose’s back and frown.
Jackson looked at the big blue home in front of him and said, “Well, Neil’s found us another place to stay all of a sudden too. I know it’s a good deal, but Glenway’s murder has me confused, not to mention suspicious. Neil and Allen are some of our oldest friends.”
Imogene piped up. “Yeah, y’all got pictures of ’em both everywhere at home. That’s why I can’t figure why you wanna accuse ’em.”
“Imogene, I’m not accusing them. I’m just saying they had something to gain from Glenway’s death, and so did your new friend Lena Ward.” He watched Imogene poke her lips out and shake her head.
Billy grabbed the directions to the hotel from Jackson. “I’ve never heard of Chez Hill,” Billy said. He looked worried as he read through the brochure.
“Yeah, me neither, but it’s close to everything—Jackson Square, Café du Monde, the Old U.S. Mint, Canal Street, the Louis Armstrong Park, where we’ll see the second line parade.” Jackson drove toward the Quarter with the evening sun setting over the city. They turned off Rampart Street onto Toulouse and saw the gilt and stenciled sign CHEZ HILL.
“We’re here, Imogene. You gonna give us the silent treatment for the rest of the trip?” Jackson smiled even though she didn’t answer. He threw on a visor to help contain his wild hair. It looked like his curls had been treated in an electric socket. He went to check in and returned in ten minutes with the room keys.
After packing the luggage onto
“Mother, do you know Lena Ward could have very well killed our friend Glenway?” Imogene continued staring at the mansion. “And you just ran over there and started helping her like y’all were at a church picnic.”
“Bull mess, son. That woman wouldn’t kill a snake if she seen it in her bathtub. Y’all need to look elsewhere if you thank she done it. Lord, and her a widow woman like me with arthritis. Y’all think the awfullest things. No wonder you use that blood-pressure cuff so much.” She crossed her arms and watched another streetcar lumber down the avenue, angling her body to follow its track.
“Mother, you always have to exaggerate. I’m glad I did hear that tidbit about Neil and Allen, because you weren’t planning to tell us, were you?” Billy turned the AC vent to his face. His hair stuck to the sides of his head.
“I was gonna tell you. When we got settled. But Lena told it in confidence, and I didn’t wanna go ringin’ the bell on sweet Neil and Allen. It ain’t right. Way I figure it, them boys was good to the Gilbert boy, just like they’ve been good to me and Lena and most ’specially they been good to y’all.” She tapped them both on the shoulder. “And the Gilbert boy just wanted to hep ’em all he could. Shoot, you know we got people like that, Billy McGregor, and they’d do the same cockeyed thing for them they loved.” Imogene hit the console in between the boys when she said it. Goose barked and then jumped up on all fours.
“Yes, Mother, but those people aren’t suspected of murder, now, are they?” Billy ripped the cuff from his arm.
“Shoot, you talk like a boy with a paper rump. Next thing, since y’all already accused Neil and Allen and a senior citizen who can hardly walk right, you’ll be accusin’ me too. If y’all are gonna act like this, you may as well put me on a train back to Alabama.” She slammed her back against the seat and turned her head.
“Jackson, forget it. Just drive. Mama’s obviously so tired she can’t think straight.” Billy cracked open a bottle of water and tried to hand it to her, but she wouldn’t take it. She pushed it back twice before Jackson took a big swig. “Ahhh.” He looked in the mirror and saw her mumbling to herself. “Come on, Maw. Don’t be mad. I’m just surprised you don’t find it a bit odd.”
She refused to respond. All she did was pet Goose’s back and frown.
Jackson looked at the big blue home in front of him and said, “Well, Neil’s found us another place to stay all of a sudden too. I know it’s a good deal, but Glenway’s murder has me confused, not to mention suspicious. Neil and Allen are some of our oldest friends.”
Imogene piped up. “Yeah, y’all got pictures of ’em both everywhere at home. That’s why I can’t figure why you wanna accuse ’em.”
“Imogene, I’m not accusing them. I’m just saying they had something to gain from Glenway’s death, and so did your new friend Lena Ward.” He watched Imogene poke her lips out and shake her head.
Billy grabbed the directions to the hotel from Jackson. “I’ve never heard of Chez Hill,” Billy said. He looked worried as he read through the brochure.
“Yeah, me neither, but it’s close to everything—Jackson Square, Café du Monde, the Old U.S. Mint, Canal Street, the Louis Armstrong Park, where we’ll see the second line parade.” Jackson drove toward the Quarter with the evening sun setting over the city. They turned off Rampart Street onto Toulouse and saw the gilt and stenciled sign CHEZ HILL.
“We’re here, Imogene. You gonna give us the silent treatment for the rest of the trip?” Jackson smiled even though she didn’t answer. He threw on a visor to help contain his wild hair. It looked like his curls had been treated in an electric socket. He went to check in and returned in ten minutes with the room keys.
After packing the luggage onto
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