suspect over at Mo’s if you need me. Please do not worry. Your loving son, Dale.’” She glanced up. “Is
that
the note you’re referring to?”
Dale shifted. “It sounded better when I first wrote it.”
“A
murder suspect
?” she said, her voice rising.
“I’m innocent,” he said.
“You know, Miss Rose, you could say this is my fault, in an odd way,” I said, easing into the situation. “You’ll probably be surprised to learn I’m the one that called Dale last night about the murder suspect situation. As it turns out, Dale ain’t actually been named. So it’s a false alarm, in a way.”
“
You
had a hand in this, Mo?” she said in a voice shaved from ice. “Really?”
“Yes, ma’am. I probably shouldn’t have called so late.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” she said. “And Dale shouldn’thave left without asking. What do you have to say about that, Dale? Why didn’t you ask? Did you think I’d want to tag along?”
“No, ma’am,” he sighed.
“Then why …” She stopped and tears flooded her eyes.
Miss Rose’s tears are like truth serum to Dale. He blurted out his answer: “I didn’t ask because I knew you wouldn’t want me to go.”
I winced.
“I wouldn’t want you to go? Because?” she said.
Dale looked like a condemned man tying his own noose. “Because it was past my nine o’clock curfew.” She waited while he studied the linoleum’s faded yellow peonies. “And because it wasn’t safe,” he said.
“You got a nine o’clock curfew?” I asked. “Miss Lana gave me eight o’clock.” Neither of them looked at me. “Not that my curfew matters right now,” I added.
“You could have been killed,” she said. If her voice went any higher, Queen Elizabeth would need ear plugs. “Thank heavens Lana called me this morning to let me know where you were. I would have been worried to death if …” She took a shaky breath. “What am I going to do with you?”
Fear clouded his eyes. “You ain’t telling Daddy, are you?”
“Your daddy isn’t in this anymore,” she snapped. “You’re grounded. No races, no trips to the café, no bicycle riding.”
“Grounded?” he wailed. “For how long?”
“For until I say you’re not grounded, that’s how long,” she said, snatching another paper from her pocket. “And as long as you’re staying home for the foreseeable future, I have a few chores for you. First of all, I’d like you to clean out the tobacco barn.”
“The
tobacco
barn?” Dale said, surprise ringing in his voice. “I thought you’d make me weed the garden or cut the grass.”
“Hush,” I whispered.
“Why clean out the tobacco barn?” he said. “Nobody’s used it in years.”
“I’d also like you to repair the things under the shelter.”
“What things?”
“Things I’ve had put there. And I want the stable cleaned out. The manure behind the stable should be composted by now,” she said. “I’d like for you to take it to the garden. You can use my wheelbarrow.”
“Miss Rose,” I said. “I hate to interrupt, but the truth is Dale and me got plans. We just opened a detective agency. Maybe you’ve heard of us? Desperado Detectives? We got a murder to solve.”
She didn’t even look up. “In that case, Mo, I suggest you open a branch office in the tobacco barn. Because that’s where Dale’s going to be for a long time to come.”
“Ah, Mama,” he said.
“Don’t ‘ah, Mama’ me,” she replied, her hands going to her hips.
We froze until she turned and headed for the kitchen. “Dale, that barn’s not cleaning itself. You see any snakes, sing out and I’ll come running,” she said, nodding toward the shotgun by the door. Miss Rose shoots better than anybody in the county, save the Colonel. “I’ll be out in a little while to see how you’re doing. And,” she said, “you had
better
be there, and you’d better be busy.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She glanced at me. “What are your plans today,
that
the note you’re referring to?”
Dale shifted. “It sounded better when I first wrote it.”
“A
murder suspect
?” she said, her voice rising.
“I’m innocent,” he said.
“You know, Miss Rose, you could say this is my fault, in an odd way,” I said, easing into the situation. “You’ll probably be surprised to learn I’m the one that called Dale last night about the murder suspect situation. As it turns out, Dale ain’t actually been named. So it’s a false alarm, in a way.”
“
You
had a hand in this, Mo?” she said in a voice shaved from ice. “Really?”
“Yes, ma’am. I probably shouldn’t have called so late.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” she said. “And Dale shouldn’thave left without asking. What do you have to say about that, Dale? Why didn’t you ask? Did you think I’d want to tag along?”
“No, ma’am,” he sighed.
“Then why …” She stopped and tears flooded her eyes.
Miss Rose’s tears are like truth serum to Dale. He blurted out his answer: “I didn’t ask because I knew you wouldn’t want me to go.”
I winced.
“I wouldn’t want you to go? Because?” she said.
Dale looked like a condemned man tying his own noose. “Because it was past my nine o’clock curfew.” She waited while he studied the linoleum’s faded yellow peonies. “And because it wasn’t safe,” he said.
“You got a nine o’clock curfew?” I asked. “Miss Lana gave me eight o’clock.” Neither of them looked at me. “Not that my curfew matters right now,” I added.
“You could have been killed,” she said. If her voice went any higher, Queen Elizabeth would need ear plugs. “Thank heavens Lana called me this morning to let me know where you were. I would have been worried to death if …” She took a shaky breath. “What am I going to do with you?”
Fear clouded his eyes. “You ain’t telling Daddy, are you?”
“Your daddy isn’t in this anymore,” she snapped. “You’re grounded. No races, no trips to the café, no bicycle riding.”
“Grounded?” he wailed. “For how long?”
“For until I say you’re not grounded, that’s how long,” she said, snatching another paper from her pocket. “And as long as you’re staying home for the foreseeable future, I have a few chores for you. First of all, I’d like you to clean out the tobacco barn.”
“The
tobacco
barn?” Dale said, surprise ringing in his voice. “I thought you’d make me weed the garden or cut the grass.”
“Hush,” I whispered.
“Why clean out the tobacco barn?” he said. “Nobody’s used it in years.”
“I’d also like you to repair the things under the shelter.”
“What things?”
“Things I’ve had put there. And I want the stable cleaned out. The manure behind the stable should be composted by now,” she said. “I’d like for you to take it to the garden. You can use my wheelbarrow.”
“Miss Rose,” I said. “I hate to interrupt, but the truth is Dale and me got plans. We just opened a detective agency. Maybe you’ve heard of us? Desperado Detectives? We got a murder to solve.”
She didn’t even look up. “In that case, Mo, I suggest you open a branch office in the tobacco barn. Because that’s where Dale’s going to be for a long time to come.”
“Ah, Mama,” he said.
“Don’t ‘ah, Mama’ me,” she replied, her hands going to her hips.
We froze until she turned and headed for the kitchen. “Dale, that barn’s not cleaning itself. You see any snakes, sing out and I’ll come running,” she said, nodding toward the shotgun by the door. Miss Rose shoots better than anybody in the county, save the Colonel. “I’ll be out in a little while to see how you’re doing. And,” she said, “you had
better
be there, and you’d better be busy.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She glanced at me. “What are your plans today,
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