and smiled approvingly. “Everyone here will tell you I wiped my eyes more than a few times when Victoria, here, was saying how you’ve helped ease the pain of her great-grandmother’s passing. Touching . . . so, so touching.”
He took a moment to wipe his eyes with his free hand then released his hold on Leona and hopped back to the register, winking at Tori as he did. When he reached it, he spun around, clapped his hands in a quick, yet deliberate beat, and ran his finger down the side of an autographed black-and-white photograph framed and hung on a nearby wall. “Beatrice, you
have
to see this.”
Slowly, shyly, Beatrice took a step forward, a squeal erupting from her lips and spreading an even bigger smile across Charles’s. “Oh my gosh! He was
here
? Kenny was here in this store?”
“Five months ago. Can you
believe
it?” He took one last look at the photograph then fixed his glance on the whole of them as a group once again. “I’ve been watching
Taped with Melly and Kenneth
for three years now and never have they had as wonderful a friend segment as they did with all of—”
Charles stopped, lifted his finger in a mental count, then dropped it back down to his side. “Really, ladies, don’t you think Dixie should play hard to get just a little? I realize she’s been without a man for quite some time, but there’s no harm in turning down a date once in a while. Makes her more mysterious that way.”
Leona’s head nodded in approval. “I like the way you think, Charles. Your mother raised you right.”
He snapped his fingers in a quick triangle shape. “You’re darn straight she did!” Then, turning to Tori, he said, “So what did she wear? Something spectacular, I hope?”
“Stripes are never spectacular, Charles. You know that.”
His mouth snapped open. “Tell me you’re kidding. Tell me you did
not
let her leave your hotel room in stripes, Leona.”
“No, they gave them to her there.”
Charles nibbled on the pinky of his right hand then stopped himself when he realized what he was doing. “Call in the search party. You lost me.”
Beatrice tore her focus from the autographed picture of her idol and fixed it instead on Charles, her eyes wide with worry. “Dixie is in . . . jail,” she said, lowering her voice to a whisper for the last word.
“What?”
Charles held his hand to his heart and staggered back a step. “You can’t be serious? What happened?”
“Her bloke was”—Beatrice looked left and right then lowered her voice still further—“
murdered
a few blocks from here the day before our show aired.”
His hand moved to his mouth. “Hold the phone. Are you saying
John Dreyer
was her bloke?”
Tori heard the gasps that mingled with her own. “You knew John?”
“As much as anyone can truly know a snake as he’s slithering along the ground . . .” Charles leaned against the edge of the counter and rolled his eyes with stage-worthy drama. “So all the time Dixie was blushing over her new friend, she was talking about
him
?” At their collective nod, he
tsk
ed loudly. “Men who prey on vulnerable women like that should be taken out into the woods and shot.”
“Or pushed from a three-story balcony,” Leona mused with a hint of boredom.
Charles laughed. “So true.”
Tori took note of the various customers looking at or reading books around the store, her heart pumping loudly in her chest. “Dixie didn’t do it, Charles. But someone has gone to great lengths to make it look as if she did. That’s why she’s sitting in a jail downtown. That’s why we’re here, in your shop, instead of heading back to Sweet Briar like we were supposed to.” She took a deep breath in an effort to head off the emotion she felt building behind her eyes. “We need to know everything you can tell us about John—how you knew him, how he operated, who he preyed on. Basically everything and anything you think might help us prove Dixie’s innocence.”
A
He took a moment to wipe his eyes with his free hand then released his hold on Leona and hopped back to the register, winking at Tori as he did. When he reached it, he spun around, clapped his hands in a quick, yet deliberate beat, and ran his finger down the side of an autographed black-and-white photograph framed and hung on a nearby wall. “Beatrice, you
have
to see this.”
Slowly, shyly, Beatrice took a step forward, a squeal erupting from her lips and spreading an even bigger smile across Charles’s. “Oh my gosh! He was
here
? Kenny was here in this store?”
“Five months ago. Can you
believe
it?” He took one last look at the photograph then fixed his glance on the whole of them as a group once again. “I’ve been watching
Taped with Melly and Kenneth
for three years now and never have they had as wonderful a friend segment as they did with all of—”
Charles stopped, lifted his finger in a mental count, then dropped it back down to his side. “Really, ladies, don’t you think Dixie should play hard to get just a little? I realize she’s been without a man for quite some time, but there’s no harm in turning down a date once in a while. Makes her more mysterious that way.”
Leona’s head nodded in approval. “I like the way you think, Charles. Your mother raised you right.”
He snapped his fingers in a quick triangle shape. “You’re darn straight she did!” Then, turning to Tori, he said, “So what did she wear? Something spectacular, I hope?”
“Stripes are never spectacular, Charles. You know that.”
His mouth snapped open. “Tell me you’re kidding. Tell me you did
not
let her leave your hotel room in stripes, Leona.”
“No, they gave them to her there.”
Charles nibbled on the pinky of his right hand then stopped himself when he realized what he was doing. “Call in the search party. You lost me.”
Beatrice tore her focus from the autographed picture of her idol and fixed it instead on Charles, her eyes wide with worry. “Dixie is in . . . jail,” she said, lowering her voice to a whisper for the last word.
“What?”
Charles held his hand to his heart and staggered back a step. “You can’t be serious? What happened?”
“Her bloke was”—Beatrice looked left and right then lowered her voice still further—“
murdered
a few blocks from here the day before our show aired.”
His hand moved to his mouth. “Hold the phone. Are you saying
John Dreyer
was her bloke?”
Tori heard the gasps that mingled with her own. “You knew John?”
“As much as anyone can truly know a snake as he’s slithering along the ground . . .” Charles leaned against the edge of the counter and rolled his eyes with stage-worthy drama. “So all the time Dixie was blushing over her new friend, she was talking about
him
?” At their collective nod, he
tsk
ed loudly. “Men who prey on vulnerable women like that should be taken out into the woods and shot.”
“Or pushed from a three-story balcony,” Leona mused with a hint of boredom.
Charles laughed. “So true.”
Tori took note of the various customers looking at or reading books around the store, her heart pumping loudly in her chest. “Dixie didn’t do it, Charles. But someone has gone to great lengths to make it look as if she did. That’s why she’s sitting in a jail downtown. That’s why we’re here, in your shop, instead of heading back to Sweet Briar like we were supposed to.” She took a deep breath in an effort to head off the emotion she felt building behind her eyes. “We need to know everything you can tell us about John—how you knew him, how he operated, who he preyed on. Basically everything and anything you think might help us prove Dixie’s innocence.”
A
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