I looked all around. So far we hadn’t drawn attention to ourselves and Tinkie was still inside the toy shop. “What are you doing? We’re on a busy street in broad daylight.”
“And you’re the one acting like a crazy person,” she said. “You goin’ all googly-eyed at a dressmaker’s form, talking to yourself in the middle of the sidewalk. Folks can’t see me, but they sure can see you.”
She had a point—a damn good one. “Why do you look like Bette Midler and what movie are you from?” I couldn’t quite place this Bette. The coiffed hair was a clue, but I couldn’t figure out exactly what my haint was up to.
Jitty flicked her hand at the display window on the other side of the shop’s front door. This one featured two extremely thin mannequins in red corselets that laced up the back, red fishnet stockings, and a big bow tied around each of their waists. Like they were some kind of Christmas gift for someone who loved skinny women. They both wore Santa hats and vapid expressions.
“So some people have a thing for tarted-up mannequins that make a whippet look fat,” I said. “At least they know enough to stay put in the display. Unlike someone I know.” I pointed at her.
Jitty struck a pose and her facial expression shifted to comic outrage. Her voice was all Bette. “Who’s supposed to eat that? Some anorexic teenager? Some fetus? It’s a conspiracy, I know it is! I’ve had enough. I’m leading a protest. I’m not buying another article of clothing until these designers come to their senses!”
“Brenda!” I knew her instantly. She was one of the wives whose husband was a cheater in the 1996 movie The First Wives Club. As I recalled the movie, she’d found her husband, Mort, with a younger model. His financial impropriety had yielded the turf she needed for revenge, meaning she turned him in to the IRS. The movie had also featured two other wives whose husbands had strayed. Goldie Hawn, another longtime acting favorite of mine, and Diane Keaton starred in the film. I could put two and two together—cheating spouses in the movie corresponded to cheating spouses in Columbus. “You’re not helping, Jitty.”
“Maybe you’re not listening.” She started to waver, her image gradually beginning to fade.
“Come back here. Do they sell those clothes in that store?” I pointed in the window before I realized a clerk inside the store was staring at me. She had her phone in her hand, as if she was going to report me as some kind of mental patient. I waved at her and smiled, which only made her step behind a dress rack and hide.
“Dammit it, Jitty. Now look what you’ve done.”
“Better get in there before she dials 911 and says there’s a crazy woman roaming the streets. Just remember, a shopping spree always helps a heartache.” She grinned.
I was done with Jitty, but I really liked that outfit. “Give me those clothes. In my size. I want to buy them.”
“Too late! Tinkie’s headed this way.”
Jitty did a single turn to a blare of angelic horns, and she was gone. I prepared myself to meet my partner. Tinkie had caught me several times talking to “myself.” I couldn’t tell her about Jitty, and I didn’t want to start that tired old conversation again. I had to pull myself together.
I faced her with a big smile. “I was just admiring the displays.”
“Find something you like?” Tinkie asked, staring at the shop widow with a puzzled expression. “That?” She pointed at the very thin models in evening gowns. Tinkie knew me well enough to know that was not anything I’d normally be interested in.
“They are lovely dresses, if I had a place to wear them.” I’d been royally tricked by Jitty, who was just making sure I knew she was still in Columbus. It was Jitty’s mission in life to pester me no matter where I went.
“And if you’d starved yourself for the past nine months.” Tinkie rolled her eyes. “What’s really going on?”
The store clerk had come out from behind the rack of dresses and was now filming me with her cell phone. Proof for the cops she would call any second if she hadn’t already.
“Let’s get moving,” I suggested.
“If you like that dress, why not try it on?” Tinkie grabbed my elbow to propel me into the store.
“The dress is beautiful, but not for me. What about Cece?”
Tinkie pondered it. “I’ll tell her. It would look marvelous on her with her slender hips.”
“Excellent idea. Let’s finish up our work so we can get her down here to try it on.” I was literally pushing her down the street. The clerk had edged out of the doorway and was still filming us. I tugged Tinkie around the corner with a huge sigh of relief.
“Is something wrong?” Tinkie asked.
“Not a thing. Ready to get to work.”
“Are you ready to look up the heavy equipment dealers?”
“I am.” I was more than ready to get busy and relieved to be getting off so lightly. Tinkie apparently hadn’t witnessed my sidewalk debate with an empty space or the distressed salesclerk. Whew! I tucked her arm through mine and set off at a brisk walk. Tinkie let me get about a block before she said anything.
“I watched you at that store window.”
I felt the rush of blood to my cheeks.
“What were you doing? It looked like you were having an argument with yourself. Sarah Booth, you looked a little nutty. That clerk in the store was about to call the police. So just tell me the truth, please.”
“Okay.” I drew in a breath. “I thought one of the mannequins looked like Bette Midler and I was imagining her playing Brenda in The First Wives Club. I guess I got carried away having a conversation with Brenda about cheating husbands. You know, because of our case.”
I kept on walking to put more distance
