AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Was she into him?"
"Oh, she cared for him. So many people in town didn't like her. It's the way people are. She was from out West, pretty as the day is long with buckets of talent. And she dressed like you." Carla smiled in order to show him she wasn't trying to be offensive.
"I like comfy clothes."
"Me, too, but that comes with age," Carla said, pouring herself another cup of tea. "Calli- that's what we called her-wasn't in love with Simeon. I think she saw him as an odd older brother, like someone in a family some would be ashamed of, but you love them because they're quirky and a good person at heart. Calli had fellows buzzing around her like flies on a cow patty. Goodness, even my husband perked up when she entered the room."
Leif felt something within him tighten and vibrate, like an old-fashioned divining rod. "Like who?"
Carla's forehead wrinkled. "Hmm, let's see. It was so long ago. I think she dated George Dominque. His father owned a garage in town and he drove a souped-up Trans Am, the kind with the eagle or whatever on the hood. And then there was Clyde Grommet, who raced motorcycles all over the South. He was a good-looking thing even if he did wear his hair too long," she said, pinking a bit when she remembered Leif wore his long, too. "Oh, and she dated Everett Orgeron. He's our state senator and they say he's in line to run for governor in a few years."
"Orgeron? As in related to Abigail?"
"No, he's related to Cal. Everett's his uncle."
An uneasiness crept inside him at the thought of anyone related to Cal dating his mother. "Well, with this woman dating so many men, I can see how her reputation wouldn't be the best."
"Sure made it easier for the women in town to hate her. But anyway, she ended up killing Simeon and then going on the lam so I guess it doesn't matter."
"Killing him? You said she liked him."
"I shouldn't speculate. No one knows if she pushed Simeon down the staircase or not. No one other than Bart was there. And his word is about as good as toilet paper."
"You don't like Bart?"
Carla sniffed and lifted a shoulder. "He's never lost sleep over anyone not liking him. Bart's a single minded man. He likes money and to be left alone. It's a wonder he didn't figure out a way to get out of paying the prize money for the Golden Magnolia."
"I met him and he didn't strike me that way," Leif said, trying to be fair to Bart, but sensing more and more that Bart was the key to learning what happened that fateful night. Bart had a huge stake in Simeon's death.
"You're right. I shouldn't let my opinion influence yours." Carla set down her tea and picked up a binder. "I found this from my time as the director of the foundation. I think there's a list of artists and logistics about the festival. Since the parade grounds haven't changed, you can do something similar."
Leif directed his attention to the pages Carla thumbed through. He put aside thoughts of his mother and focused on the information Carla provided. Even though his mission had been to learn more about his mother, he had a job to do as a committee member.
Later that evening when he left Carla's, he carried the binder and a mental list of guys he needed to learn more about.
As he pulled away from the curb, his phone buzzed.
He looked down and caught the text message from Abigail.Birdie is better. Want to move on to zippers tonight?
He glanced at his watch. Six o'clock.
Pulling over, he grabbed the phone and texted:I'm talented with zippers. See you in a few.
16
THE DOORBELL RANG.
He frowned. He'd been home for only ten minutes. When he saida fewhe assumed she understood that as a few hours.
Leif went to the door and opened it, ready to snap his teeth and make a joke about zippers and moving on to hook-and-eye closures.
But Birdie stood there.
"Hey," she said.
He glanced toward the sidewalk. No Abigail behind her.
"Hey, Brigitte," he said, trying not to look confused. "What's up?"
