Cece was often chock-full of interesting facts. “I wouldn’t mind a spin through the cemetery if we have time.”
“Let’s focus on shopping. Look at that dress,” Tinkie said, pointing to a storefront window, where a red velvet number really was an eye-catcher. “Let’s look in there.”
So of course we did, laughing and chattering as we selected gifts for others—and one or two for ourselves.
When we’d made it down one whole street, we had more boxes than we could manage, and most of the afternoon had slipped away. “Darla said she was making dinner tonight, so we can relax back at the B and B,” Tinkie said. “My feet are tired.”
My feet were fine, but I was also ready to give up the frantic shopping. In the best of conditions I was a terrible shopper. After three hours of it, I was more than done. I had managed to get Coleman an incredible riding jacket. It was warm and lightweight, with plenty of pockets. And it matched his blue eyes. I felt my hard work searching for a perfect gift had paid off handsomely.
As five o’clock rolled around, the shops began to close. During the final days of the season, they would remain open later, and there was a big Wassail Fest event, in which all the downtown shops remained open until ten P.M. conducting business in a final push for those last-minute gifts.
When Tinkie had us herded into the limo, we sailed off to the Bissonnette House and another round of holiday libations as we waited for dinner.
Darla and Kathleen both were there and grilled us on the near electrocution of Tulla Tarbutton.
“Tulla is one of the nuevo socialites who’s been trying for years to start a Mardi Gras organization here in Columbus. As if we don’t have enough of our own heritage to celebrate,” Kathleen said as she lit the candles on the long dining room table that accommodated all of us with ease. “We have events all year long. Mardi Gras belongs to Mobile and New Orleans, and that’s where it should stay,” Kathleen said.
“Columbus has an event every night this week,” I agreed. “There’s plenty going on.”
“It was Darla who brought back the flotilla this year, and I’m glad to see you’ve booked yourself onto the Tenn-Tom Queen. That’s the best boat and you’ll have a blast.” Kathleen was obviously Darla’s number one cheerleader. “The flotilla is going to be fabulous.”
The Tenn-Tom Queen sounded fine to me. Tinkie had made all the arrangements and I gave her a thumbs-up. She’d really put her heart into this trip, the last Christmas before she and Oscar had a child. It was incredibly heartwarming to see my partner aglow with her plans and the love she shared with her husband.
Cece sidled up to me and whispered in my ear. “I got a little scoop on Tulla Tarbutton, the electrocution victim at the Green Parrot. I haven’t had a chance to talk to you alone.”
I signaled her out on the patio while everyone was busy sipping their drinks and sampling the wonderful hors d’oeuvres that Darla had whipped up. “What’s up?”
“I overheard one of the women at the Green Parrot talking about Tulla. She said she was a homewrecker.”
“Someone at the bar called her a ho. I couldn’t tell who it was, but it was a woman.”
“I think Jaytee was correct. The shock was deliberate. I don’t think they were trying to kill her. Probably meant to send a message.”
“How could they control who was holding the microphone when the shock occurred?”
Cece shook her head. “I’m not saying this was cause and effect. It’s just a tidbit of gossip.”
“Who is Tulla having an affair with?”
“They didn’t say and I could hardly ask, since I was eavesdropping.”
She was right about that. “Good thing we’re not working.” I said it with a grin.
“I know, I know. It’s just that the shock could have killed someone. And I heard the very best tidbit.”
I could tell by her animated face that this was going to be juicy. “Hit me with it.”
“There was a man in town cheating on his girlfriend and she poured Red Devil Lye in his shoes. She told everyone she was going to eat him up from the feet to the top of his head. Because he was cheating on her.”
I couldn’t help laughing. It was a helluva slow death threat. “Do they even make Red Devil Lye anymore?”
Cece shrugged. “Haven’t checked. I haven’t tried to dissolve anyone lately.”
I had a crazy memory of one of my mother’s antique bargain hunts. She’d found a clever little table covered in horrid green paint. She’d taken a bucket of water mixed with Red Devil Lye and a broom and brushed it all over the table. Incredibly enough, the lye mixture ate the paint off and left a beautiful tigerwood oak table that she refinished. But I’d never thought of using Red Devil Lye to dissolve a cheating man.
Cece shivered a little, which caused me to shiver, too. The night was brisk, and we hurried back inside. Harold and Millie were conspiring in a corner, and I wondered what mischief they were up to. I enjoyed a little tormenting of my friends, but Harold could match me prank for prank when he put his mind to it.
Coleman was standing in front of a roaring fire talking to Kathleen. I refilled my glass before I joined them.
“Kathleen was giving me the lowdown on Tulla,” Coleman said.
“She’s popular in many of the social circles.” Kathleen nodded as she talked. “She’s invited to the best parties, but there’s been talk about some infighting among the women. Tulla likes to … flirt.” She sighed. “Maybe a little more than flirting. She has a bit of a reputation. People get upset.”
Infidelity was a dangerous game, particularly in a small town. Everyone eventually found out, and if the community decided to shun people, they were cut off from all social activities.
“Do you know anyone who would deliberately shock
