“I doubt Clarissa would ever accept responsibility for anything,” Tinkie said baldly. “She’s not keen on Kathleen anyway.”
Jerry scoffed. “The woman has a serious issue with what she considers to be her elite class status. There’s her and then the rest of us who were born to serve her. A couple of nurses in the hospital were ready to put her in a straitjacket for a psych eval.”
“Why?” I had to ask. My gossip bone was itching.
“She wanted them to go to town and buy her a latte at Starbucks. She said the hospital coffee was giving her a migraine.”
Hospital coffee was pretty gruesome, but to ask a nurse to play servant was a little too ballsy. “So she’s at home?”
“She is, and singing the praises of Sheriff Peters.” He grinned. “That snake will bite, Sarah Booth. Keep an eye on it.”
“Oh, just let that vixen make a play for Coleman. I will snatch her bald-headed,” Tinkie said. “I’ll beat her butt with an ugly stick. I’ll smack her in the mouth so hard her teeth will march out her ass like little white soldiers. I’ll—”
I clapped a hand over her mouth. Tinkie never said such things. I had no idea she even knew such things. “He gets it, Tinkie.”
Goode was laughing so hard he started coughing. “You look like a refined lady, but you sure talk like you know your way around a barroom brawl.”
“I do both.” Tinkie was back in matron form. “I just won’t put up with anyone messing with my friends.”
He tipped his hat at her. “Everyone should be that lucky to have such a loyal friend. Now are you here to help search or to gather information?”
“A little of both, if you need us,” I said. “But what exactly did Clarissa say about Coleman?”
Jerry gave me a look that clearly intimated he was debating whether to tell me the truth or not. He shrugged one shoulder and started talking. “She said he was exactly the kind of man she’d been looking for and that she could make sure the Columbus city council offered him the position of police chief if he wanted to move here.”
Tinkie saw the figurative steam coming out of my ears; her blue eyes went wide with alarm before she spoke. “Well, Clarissa Olson can keep wishing for that until the cows come home. Coleman is true blue to Sarah Booth, and besides, he’s an elected official in Sunflower County.”
Goode chuckled. “I’m sure she’s aware that she’s playing with dynamite. That’s part of the appeal for someone like her. She’s bored. It takes more and more danger to keep her interest up. Best thing you can do is just avoid her. Keep Sheriff Peters out of her crosshairs.”
“We’re working for her,” I reminded him sourly.
“Quit. No law says you have to keep doing her dirty work.”
“We aren’t doing dirty work,” Tinkie said, a little indignant. “Our work is just as honorable as yours. We’re both looking for justice.”
“Not if you’re working for Clarissa. Justice isn’t even on her agenda. Getting what she wants is the only thing she cares about. No matter what she told you she wants, what she wants is pleasure for herself. Just keep that under your hat.”
“Thanks for the tip,” I said to Goode, and I really meant it. At least Tinkie and I were forewarned. “Maybe we will quit.” But until we did pull the plug on the case—which would require some discussion—we were still on the clock. “Jerry, do you think it’s possible Kathleen’s … disappearance is related to the things that have been going on in Columbus? The shocking karaoke, the tumble down the stairs, the cemented Caddy.”
“Kathleen wasn’t part of the swinger clique,” Goode said. “She was a nice lady. She was shy and found it difficult to make friends here. Darla Lofton was really the only person who stepped up to befriend her. Those other women…”—he shook his head—“they were awful to her. The answer to your question is no. I don’t think Kathleen’s disappearance is connected to the other things … unless she was collateral damage. What we don’t know is if someone pushed Kathleen into Clarissa, like using Kathleen as a cue ball.”
Now that was an interesting theory, and one I hadn’t even considered. “Any reason you’d think of that?” I asked.
“Those women always use someone else to do their dirty work. Like Colton. He’s just a guy making a living hauling dirt and delivering cement. He’s got no grudges against anyone, minds his own affairs, doesn’t gossip. Yet now he’s caught up in something that may cost him his business. That’s how those women operate. They’re like crows pecking at each other’s eyeballs but it’s always the passerby who gets the blame.”
“Did you talk to Colton about the woman who hired him?”
He scoffed. “Colton has his head in the clouds most of the time. He didn’t pay attention. He said she was wearing a wig and that’s about all he can remember. He honestly thought it was Bricey.”
“If we can find who hired him, we’ll be a lot closer to figuring out who’s behind these dangerous pranks.”
“But no closer to finding Kathleen Beesley. Now I have to make sure the searchers are working a grid and being careful.” He tipped his hat and headed back to the dock area, where a tent had been set up. Tinkie and I headed that way, taking in the dozens of volunteers who’d come to assist. Several police officers sat at a table with a map and they assigned an area to each volunteer and sent them to search.
“They aren’t going to ever find her, are they?” Tinkie asked.
“I don’t know. The river looks languid, but I suspect there are treacherous currents. If she’s caught in one along the bottom, it could be days before it releases … the body.”
“Poor Kathleen. Jerry Goode seemed to know her better than anyone else but Darla.”
“You know, we really don’t know much about her.” Kathleen talked about herself less than
