beefcake. He can come and rescue me anytime, night or day. Preferably at night, if you get my drift. I wonder if he knows how to fix a mixer?”
I leaned across the counter. “What do you know about Simon?”
GracieAnn formed a pucker as if sucking on a lemon. “Other than he was a rotten, no-good dirtbag, what else is there? You sure you don’t want another cookie?”
“What was he like as a banker, and I’m not talking about his job at Savannah Bank and Trust. I mean his other banking attributes as a self-employed entrepreneur. Did you know his other clients? You sent Chantilly to Simon.”
“Biggest regret of my life.”
“Did you send anyone else?” KiKi said with a mouthful of Danish.
“No one else matters. I made those UPS cookies for a reason, you know. Chantilly got what she deserved. She stole Simon from me and now she’s a prime suspect in his murder and I couldn’t be happier about the whole situation.”
“But she’s innocent,” I added, trying for a bit of compassion and some information.
“Not to me she isn’t. She’s guilty of boyfriend-napping.” GracieAnn studied me for a second. I could almost see the little gears churning away behind her emerald eyes. She leaned across the marble counter, her nose nearly toughing mine. “Chantilly’s your friend, that’s what you were doing in that UPS truck. You were helping her out because she’s fretting over getting arrested and messing up her job. She’s been mucking up deliveries. I hear stuff, you know. I bet you’re trying to get Chantilly off the guilty list and that’s why you’re asking me all these dreadful questions.”
The gears churned again. “You want to blame Simon’s demise on someone else who he lent money to instead of Chantilly? Well, it’s not going to work, sugar.” GracieAnn stood tall and parked her hands on her well-endowed hips. “Chantilly’s guilty as all get-out, pure and simple, and now she gets to pay the price.”
“I’m helping Walker Boone. He’s working on her case.” Oh, Lordy, did I really just say that? I must have because KiKi kicked me in the shins.
“Walker Boone is helping Chantilly?” GracieAnn looked impressed. Heck, I was impressed I came up with that award-winning lie right there on the spot.
“Who would have thought?” GracieAnn said, a little breathless.
I crossed my fingers behind my back. “Bet I could get him to come around and talk to you for a bit about the case.”
That warranted another KiKi shin-kicking but GracieAnn beamed. “I bet I could tell him a few things he’d like to know about this here case. Stuff he never suspected.”
“You could tell me and I could tell him. He’d be mighty grateful.”
“Now why would I do a thing like that if Walker Boone’s showing up at my door? I’m here to tell you that sure would make my day.” GracieAnn fluffed her voluminous hair held in place by a net. “Someone like Walker Boone is a million times better than Simon. That man’s the icing on my cake.”
GracieAnn nodded, a sensual glint in her eyes. KiKi grabbed my arm, hauling me across the wood floor, Bruce Willis following, lapping dropped pastry crumbs along the way.
“What are you doing?” Auntie KiKi growled between barely moving lips when we got outside and sat at one of the little white wrought-iron tables for coffee and goodies alfresco. “The icing on the cake! Boone is not going to appreciate you feeding him to GracieAnn like that.”
“It wasn’t a full-out feed, more like a necessary nibble,” I whispered back. “I had to come up with something to get her talking. I bet dollars to doughnuts that GracieAnn sent other financially distressed clients to Simon, and I have to keep her on my side so she’ll tell me who they are.”
“Honey, she’s not going to tell you beans, and when she finds out you fibbed about Boone she’s gong to have a hissy. This is the woman who bakes dead-people cookies. Did you ever see that
Sweeney Todd
picture?
I leaned across the counter. “What do you know about Simon?”
GracieAnn formed a pucker as if sucking on a lemon. “Other than he was a rotten, no-good dirtbag, what else is there? You sure you don’t want another cookie?”
“What was he like as a banker, and I’m not talking about his job at Savannah Bank and Trust. I mean his other banking attributes as a self-employed entrepreneur. Did you know his other clients? You sent Chantilly to Simon.”
“Biggest regret of my life.”
“Did you send anyone else?” KiKi said with a mouthful of Danish.
“No one else matters. I made those UPS cookies for a reason, you know. Chantilly got what she deserved. She stole Simon from me and now she’s a prime suspect in his murder and I couldn’t be happier about the whole situation.”
“But she’s innocent,” I added, trying for a bit of compassion and some information.
“Not to me she isn’t. She’s guilty of boyfriend-napping.” GracieAnn studied me for a second. I could almost see the little gears churning away behind her emerald eyes. She leaned across the marble counter, her nose nearly toughing mine. “Chantilly’s your friend, that’s what you were doing in that UPS truck. You were helping her out because she’s fretting over getting arrested and messing up her job. She’s been mucking up deliveries. I hear stuff, you know. I bet you’re trying to get Chantilly off the guilty list and that’s why you’re asking me all these dreadful questions.”
The gears churned again. “You want to blame Simon’s demise on someone else who he lent money to instead of Chantilly? Well, it’s not going to work, sugar.” GracieAnn stood tall and parked her hands on her well-endowed hips. “Chantilly’s guilty as all get-out, pure and simple, and now she gets to pay the price.”
“I’m helping Walker Boone. He’s working on her case.” Oh, Lordy, did I really just say that? I must have because KiKi kicked me in the shins.
“Walker Boone is helping Chantilly?” GracieAnn looked impressed. Heck, I was impressed I came up with that award-winning lie right there on the spot.
“Who would have thought?” GracieAnn said, a little breathless.
I crossed my fingers behind my back. “Bet I could get him to come around and talk to you for a bit about the case.”
That warranted another KiKi shin-kicking but GracieAnn beamed. “I bet I could tell him a few things he’d like to know about this here case. Stuff he never suspected.”
“You could tell me and I could tell him. He’d be mighty grateful.”
“Now why would I do a thing like that if Walker Boone’s showing up at my door? I’m here to tell you that sure would make my day.” GracieAnn fluffed her voluminous hair held in place by a net. “Someone like Walker Boone is a million times better than Simon. That man’s the icing on my cake.”
GracieAnn nodded, a sensual glint in her eyes. KiKi grabbed my arm, hauling me across the wood floor, Bruce Willis following, lapping dropped pastry crumbs along the way.
“What are you doing?” Auntie KiKi growled between barely moving lips when we got outside and sat at one of the little white wrought-iron tables for coffee and goodies alfresco. “The icing on the cake! Boone is not going to appreciate you feeding him to GracieAnn like that.”
“It wasn’t a full-out feed, more like a necessary nibble,” I whispered back. “I had to come up with something to get her talking. I bet dollars to doughnuts that GracieAnn sent other financially distressed clients to Simon, and I have to keep her on my side so she’ll tell me who they are.”
“Honey, she’s not going to tell you beans, and when she finds out you fibbed about Boone she’s gong to have a hissy. This is the woman who bakes dead-people cookies. Did you ever see that
Sweeney Todd
picture?
Similar Books
