“Oh, here you are at last, Wendy. I was told you’d be back soon. I hope you don’t mind, but I just had to see you and get something off my chest,” she said rather breathlessly.

  “I’m assuming this is about the text I sent to all of you? I’ve heard from just about everyone else, and it feels like I could have gotten less of a reaction from a tornado siren.”

  “Yes, I suppose so. I just have to talk to you right away. I thought about sending a text back to you, but this is far too involved for cyberspace. I hate texting anyway. People have gotten so rude about it, walking around practically running into walls or even getting run over in the street. I’m all thumbs, anyway, and I mean that in the traditional and not the technological sense. I needed to see you face-to-face.”

  “The first thing I want you to do is to take a deep breath and get your heart rate down,” Wendy told her, gently rubbing her arm. “We’ll talk privately in one of the meeting rooms. Come along with me.”

  Once they had settled in comfortably, Wendy was surprised to see that Charlotte had still not calmed down one iota. Her broad face was still flushed, and she was nervously fingering the collar of her blouse while flashing an uneasy smile. Finally, she blurted out what was on her mind.

  “I feel so guilty, Wendy.” But then she volunteered nothing further, making a grim slash of her mouth.

  “About what? What have you done?”

  “I feel guilty about Aurelia Spangler, of course.” Wendy proceeded logically. “Again, what do you feel guilty about? Did you do something to her? Are you here to confess to a crime or something?”

  Charlotte hung her head while she spoke. “Not exactly, but I went to see her the afternoon you said she committed suicide.”

  “An apparent suicide. But it’s beginning more and more to look like there could have been foul play.”

  Charlotte sighed, and it came off distinctly as one of relief. “Then she didn’t commit suicide after all? I’m off the hook?”

  “We can’t be certain yet, but there’s a chance that she could have been murdered. Anyway, what’s this all about? You still haven’t told me what it is you feel guilty about. Give me the complete picture.”

  “I think I may have put too much pressure on her and driven her over the edge,” Charlotte began, making a sudden pushing motion with her hands. “I went to her that day because I was hoping she could . . . well, I guess this is going to sound silly to you coming from a widow who’s still grieving . . . but I was hoping she could make contact with my Jimmy for me on the other side, or wherever he is. Now, you tell me—do any of us really know? But I mean, she knew about his suicide, so I thought maybe . . . well, I thought she might be able to speak to him and let me know if he was okay. I know this sounds even sillier, but I just can’t help but wonder what type of... accommodations he has. Do some people get better rooms in better hotels or what? Maybe she could tell me how it works.”

  Wendy tried her best but could not suppress an outright snicker. “I like your thinking. It gives me renewed respect for travel agents.”

  But the one-liner fell flat, as Charlotte continued without a hint of a smile. “I’ve never really gotten over the way Jimmy left me, and I didn’t appreciate Aurelia bringing it up again the way she did. I guess you could say I just went off the rails a bit, but as long as she’d gone ahead and done that, I figured I might ask her for more. Does any of this make sense to you, or do you think I’m babbling nonsense?”

  “No, I don’t think so. But let’s get to the bottom line here. I assume you aren’t confessing to anything diabolical. You have everything to lose by not leveling with me.”

  Charlotte’s eyes widened immediately and she shook her head vehemently. “Of course not. But Aurelia did sort of break down right there in front of me and said that she couldn’t help me any further. She told me I needed to leave her house, and she wasn’t very courteous about it at all. I was surprised, of course. I really seemed to have upset her.”

  “So, you were thinking that’s why she might have committed suicide? Because of you?”

  Charlotte said nothing, but nodded her head.

  “I highly doubt that, dear,” Wendy said as emphatically as she could manage, seeing clearly she needed to nip this performance in the bud. “Listen to me carefully. If she said she couldn’t help you further, she was telling you the truth.” Then Wendy quickly reviewed what Vance Quimby had revealed, and Charlotte managed a strange, nervous giggle.

  “Well, now don’t I feel like the fool? An absolute fool. Here I was worried to death that I had set Aurelia on the path to self-destruction with my otherworldly requests, and she wasn’t even the real deal. And Vance isn’t even a real novelist. What a deceitful pair. Do you know if people can be put in jail for running a phony psychic operation like that?”

  “I don’t think so. Not if people come to them voluntarily in person, or it’s one of those phone services charging by the minute that seem to be so popular. It happens every day all over the country. It’s hard to make the case that people don’t know what they’re getting into. We’ve straightened this all out for you, though,” Wendy said. “So when you left Aurelia, she was alive and well? She didn’t by any chance threaten to take her life because of what you wanted her to do?”

  “She was a bit agitated—but nothing more than that. I certainly didn’t think she was going to do anything drastic. That’s why your text was such a shock to me. Had I inadvertently done something to force her hand? She definitely didn’t come off as anywhere near that unstable a person at your wedding and then at the bridge lesson that evening. I just thought she was one of those characters that drift in and out of people’s lives all the time.”

  Wendy was trying her best to sort things out. It was her studied opinion that Charlotte Ruth was all over the map and desperately needed a rest stop. “I think you need to go down to the police station and tell my husband about all this. It’s beginning to look like most of your bridge newbies paid a visit to Aurelia sometime during the day she died. It will help Ross establish a timeline and compare that against the time of death. Except we don’t know about Milton Bagdad yet. He’s gone missing, and he hasn’t answered the text I sent out to all of you. Needless to say, I’m quite worried.”

  There was a look of consternation on Charlotte’s face. “This is getting more complicated by the second, isn’t it? I wish now we hadn’t taken Aurelia up on her cold reading offer.”

  “And I wish now I hadn’t allowed it when Aurelia first asked my permission. As I said, what Tommy Cantwell called a suicide is beginning to look much less cut-and-dried.”

  Charlotte rose and offered her hand, though it had started to tremble. “Thank you for easing my mind a bit. But there’s still the matter of poor Aurelia. She’s still dead, one way or another. No more bridge lessons for her.”

  “Yes,” Wendy said, shrugging, “I wonder how many of the rest of you will want to continue now. I seem to have the most horrific hurdles thrown in my way when it comes to the game of bridge.”

  * * *

  Around five o’clock at the police station, Ross was just finishing up scanning an assortment of documents in Captain Bax’s office. “The sample from the landlord proves that the so-called suicide note was definitely Aurelia Spangler’s handwriting,” he was saying, “and the background checks prove that Miz Aurelia and Vance were really brother and sister, born and raised out in Omaha. That’s a mixed bag if there ever was one. She really did write that note, but her brother insists it was totally out of character for her to take her own life. So, by our own established standards, do we have enough for an investigation or not?”

  Bax was striking his favorite pose, leaning back in his leather chair with his feet on the desk, and said, “Well, it’s entirely possible that Miz Aurelia was coerced into writing that note and overdosing on cocaine. That seems to make the most sense to me. Have a seat and let’s think it through some more.”

  Ross arranged all the documents on the desk into a neat pile first and then sat down. “Let’s not forget about all these people who paid Miz Aurelia a visit the day she died. So far, we have her brother, and according to Wendy, Sarah Ann O’Rourke’s mother and Charlotte Ruth showed up with various agendas that day. Miz Charlotte called up and said she would come down to the station tomorrow to tell me what happened when she visited with Miz Aurelia. We don’t know about Milton Bagdad yet because we can’t find him, but he could’ve been in play, too. We need to establish a timeline of who showed up when. My take is that we have enough for the CID to process Overview and see where that leads us. Besides, Vance Quimby has insisted on an autopsy down in Jackson, so we don’t want to be caught napping if something unusual comes of that. That could end up being an x factor.”

  Bax looked satisfied with his son-in-law’s evaluation and said, “Despite the handwriting determination, I see things the same way. There were too many opportunities for coercion and foul play that we need to investigate. Miz Aurelia hadn’t even put out her shingle yet, and Overview was like a bus station that day. Something just doesn’t feel right to me about the whole thing based on my many years of experience.”

  “We need to get this Dora O’Rourke in here, too,” Ross continued. “As I mentioned, when Wendy talked to another of her bridge newbies today—Sarah Ann O’Rourke—the upshot was that her mother seemed to be all bent out of shape after her visit with Aurelia. Something could have gotten out of hand there quickly—something entirely out of character for a woman like Dora O’Rourke.”

  Bax took his feet off the desk and straightened up in his chair. That always meant he was ready for action with orders to give. “All right, then. We’re decided. Let’s get our crew out to Overview and make it an official crime scene. You take the lead and interrogate this O’Rourke woman first, and then we’ll see if we can make some more sense out of all this.”

  As Ross left the room, he was certain Wendy would be pleased to hear that there would now be an official investigation into Aurelia’s death. She had been lobbying all along against the suicide verdict. By now, Ross knew only too well that his wife had excellent insights into human behavior, as well as puzzle-solving gifts beyond the ordinary. Maybe she would even come up with the solution to this bizarre case, as she had with a couple of others in recent years.

  CHAPTER 8

  As he was standing behind the Party Palooza counter, Rex saw that the incoming call on his cell was from Mathilde Boudreaux, and he knew better than to ignore it. Merrie stood nearby, looking puzzled as he began his conversation, but understood the moment he whispered the words “Aunt Mathilde” to her with a pained expression on his face. Merrie could only smile and roll her eyes at the revelation. She knew her husband was in for a lengthy call.

  “Yes, Auntie, there’s no change in Milton’s status,” he said in response to what was an extended opening monologue at the other end. “No one knows where he is at this point. As I told you, we went to the police about his disappearance and filed a report, and we’re still hoping for the best.”

  “Make sure they leave no stone unturned, Rex,” continued the quiet, little voice all the way down in New Orleans. “Stay on them. They’re your best bet for tracking him down, and you’ve said he’s the best singer you’ve ever had.”

  “Yes, he definitely is. I assure you, we’ll hound the police day and night, Auntie,” Rex said.

  “That recording you sent me of him during his audition was outstanding. What a glorious voice. And his picture? What a handsome young thing! If I were only a coupla decades younger. Well, just listen to me. Anyway, enough of that. You’ve done too well up there to lose business over this now.”

  “Yes, Auntie. We realize that.”

  “It’s worked out just as we’d hoped. Rosalie was the right move at the right time.”

  “Yes, Auntie. You were on target as usual.”

  “Please don’t let me down.”

  “No, Auntie. We have no intention of doing that. Have we ever?”

  There was more silence from Rex as he nodded over and over again at whatever it was she was droning on about. “I’ll be sure and get back to you as soon as possible when we hear something. And thanks for the tickets and reservations. Meanwhile, Merrie and I have a costume party to go to soon. Gotta rake in that money, you know. So, I’ll have to sign off now.”

  But there was a minute more of listening on Rex’s part, and then he ended the call abruptly with a “Good to hear from you as always, Auntie.” Then he turned to Merrie and said, “You know how she gets. I’m just thankful she doesn’t try to micro-manage from New Orleans more than she does. She’s the worrywart of all time, but I’m sure that’s why she’s so successful.”

  “I think she means well, though. I think it’s sweet the way she looks after us like a mother hen.”

  “But she always seems to call me at the most inconvenient times. I was afraid she’d keep me on forever and make us late for our party.”

  “So what was the bit about the tickets and the reservations? Sounds like good news to me. I’m already looking forward to our next trip.”

  Rex’s expression softened. “Ah, well, she said on our next visit down, she’d already bought tickets for us to the national tour of the Company revival at the Saenger, as well as reservations at Galatoire’s.”

  “Well, there you go. She has such a thoughtful side. She always makes sure we have such a good time when we visit. That ought to be fun. I’ve heard raves about the gender change of the main character in Company.” Then Merrie checked the time. “We have exactly five minutes to spare, and it takes three minutes to get there, so we’re fine if we walk out the door right now.”

  Rex gestured in that general direction and bowed low. “After you, madam.”

  * * *

  Milton had made up his mind—he would not budge on his decision to quit Party Palooza, no matter what Rex and Merrie Boudreaux kept throwing at him as incentives to stay. He had summoned the courage to walk through their front door after the long drive down from the Delta, surprising them with the bad news that he was determined to find another means of making a living, and that would be the end of it. Despite that revelation, they were both thrilled to see him alive and well, especially Merrie, who embraced him like he was her lost child.

  “What would convince you to come back to us?” Rex was saying, sitting on the edge of his desk. He was still dressed as a gambler in the antebellum South, and Merrie stood nearby as a lavender hoopskirted Southern belle from the party they had just pulled off successfully.

  “It’s hard to find singers as good as you are,” Rex continued. “I’ve had to deliver the last two telegrams myself, and although my speaking voice is quite acceptable, I can’t carry a tune. The customers aren’t getting their money’s worth. You should see some of the faces they make. We’d really like to have you back.”

  But Milton was still having none of it. “It’d just be too dangerous. Aurelia Spangler insisted that the vision of that knife and the tuxedo shirt was gonna happen and soon, and I don’t intend to be around for it. The way I see it, there are still a lot safer ways of making a living. By the way, Mr. Boudreaux, have you considered that you might be the one who’s in danger now that you’re delivering these telegrams? You might wanna reconsider that aspect of the business.”

  Rex made an unpleasant face that distorted his features. “Look, I refuse to live my life in fear, son. I suggest you do the same. Also, you need to drop by the police station and tell them you’re okay. We went down and reported you missing to Detective Rierson, and they’ve had a BOLO out on you all this time. Frankly, I’m surprised a police car didn’t spot you on your way back to Rosalie and pull you over. Doesn’t make me think all that highly of our state troopers.”

  “It’s not their fault. It’s because I took a lot of back roads from Rolling Fork to Rosalie,” Milton said, looking rather proud of himself. “I don’t know why I thought that was the best thing to do, but I did. It took a while for this panic mode I’ve been in to lose its grip on me, but it finally did, and I saw my way to sanity again.”

  “You didn’t need to run off that way. Don’t be so frightened of everything,” Merrie said, now sounding exactly like a mother scolding a wayward child.

  “If you could have seen Aurelia’s face when she said she saw the vision, you would have believed she was telling the truth. You’d have run off, too. I was frightened out of my wits.”

  “Well, thank goodness you’ve come to your senses and come back to where you belong,” Merrie added. “We suggest you ignore what that woman said and go about your business. She’s no longer around to scare people out of their wits, and perhaps that’s for the best.”

  “I will do one thing you’ve asked,” Milton told them. “I’ll check in at the police station and explain what happened. But as to coming back to deliver telegrams in costume . . .” He paused and shook his head. “For now, I just can’t see my way clear to it.”

  Rex and Merrie exchanged disappointed glances, while she threw up her hands and said, “Let us know if you change your mind, otherwise we’ll have to place an ad and audition for another good singer. The ones with your talent and personality don’t grow on trees, you know. I’ll make no bones about it. You were a wonderful asset to us, and we hate to lose you. We wanted the public to think of you as the face and voice of Party Palooza, and you have no idea what that meant to us.”

  A slight smile crept into Milton’s face. “Thanks for the compliment. I do like to think of myself as a professional.”

  But Milton was no sooner out the door than Merrie brought up the elephant in the room. “Are you gonna call up your aunt and tell her about his refusal to come back to work?”

  “Are you out of your mind? This isn’t over yet by any means. This was just our first try. Now that we know he’s okay and can relax about that part, there’ll be other offers on the table—and hopefully one he can’t refuse.”

  “How much is this gonna end up costing us?”