Thirty and a Half Excuses
Page 38

“If Jonah murdered them, he did it to get their money.”
“And I suspect Jonah thinks you have money.”
“Oh.” I hadn’t considered that. Of course, I hadn’t suspected that half the town thought I had money either. Was that the reason for Jonah’s interest in me? “Maybe so, but I haven’t signed a quit claim deed or made him the benefactor of my will. Murdering me wouldn’t do him any good.”
“Just be careful, Rose. And if you run into any sign of trouble, let me know. Call my cell phone number. You still have it, right?”
“Of course I do.” How come I always found myself in the middle of these situations? “Thanks again for helping me buy the truck.”
“You’re welcome. If you need help with anything else, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thanks, Mason. I will.”
Mason climbed out and I backed up and headed toward the nursery. When I pulled into the parking lot, Violet came outside and crossed her arms. “Well, you went ahead and did it.”
“It’s great, isn’t it?”
“You’re gonna run over something.”
“I’m not gonna run over something. I’ve already got the hang of driving it.”
An evil grin lit up her eyes. “Joe’s gonna have a fit.”
Ice water chugged through my veins. I suspected she might be right about that one, but I wasn’t about to admit it to her. “Joe’s going to see how practical this is, and he’ll think I’m a savvy businesswoman.”
Dread set me on edge. I hoped he saw it my way. Maybe I should have waited to buy the truck, but in my defense, it was a business decision and I had no idea when I’d talk to Joe next. Given the secrets he was keeping from me, we had far more bigger problems than me buying a new truck. Or letting Mason help me. That was the part that worried me the most, but there was no sense thinking about it now. I could stew over it while I tried to go to sleep tonight.
After a bit of a struggle, I got the pots in the truck. Maybe I should have recruited Mason to help me load everything.
“Be sure to pick up the kids,” Violet called out after me as I was about to leave.
“I know, Vi,” I grumbled before pulling out of the lot. “I’d hate for you to miss your precious date.”
On the way to the church, I picked up some lemonade from the Piggly Wiggly for the guys. I waved them over to some shade next to the parking lot when I parked and handed them the cups when they wandered over. Both men were sweaty, with dirt smeared on their legs, shorts, and faces. They drained their cups in less than a minute, and I poured them more, happy that I’d thought to buy a gallon.
“Thank you,” David said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“You guys are making great progress.” I was shocked to see that the west side was almost done—and done well.
“It’s a bit rougher on this side,” Bruce Wayne said after drinking a big gulp. “We’ve got the afternoon sun, so it’s hotter.”
“But Reverend Jonah has been bringing us water all day,” David said, watching as a car pulled into the parking lot.
“That’s mighty nice of him,” I mumbled, trying not to sound sarcastic. Good heavens, Rose. When did I become so cynical? I was so suspicious of Jonah Pruitt that I couldn’t take a kind gesture at face value. Besides, I didn’t have proof that Jonah was guilty of anything other than sporting a 1980s hair style.
A woman got out of the car, and then helped an older woman out of the backseat. David took another big gulp of lemonade then lowered the cup. “Hey, ain’t that Christy Hansen?”
Leaning forward, Bruce Wayne squinted. “Yep, I think it is.”
While the name Christy Hansen didn’t sound familiar, something about the woman looked familiar.
“What’s she doin’ here?” David asked. “I thought she moved to Shreveport.”
“Her aunt died.”
My attention kicked into high gear. “Is her aunt Dorothy Thorntonbury?”
“Yep.” Bruce Wayne mumbled, taking a drink.
“How do you two know her?” She was old enough to be their mother.
“She was our math teacher in middle school,” David said.
“You don’t say.”
“I saw her at the pool hall last night,” Bruce Wayne added. “She told me about her aunt.”
I put my hand on my hip. “What were you doing at the pool hall?”
Bruce Wayne’s eyes widened in confusion. “I was playing pool.”
“You weren’t up to questionable activities?”
He realized what I was asking and shook his head. “No, ma’am. I gave that stuff up for good. But I still like playin’ pool.”
I wasn’t about to call Bruce Wayne a liar, especially since he’d done everything in his power to prove how hard he was trying. But if he really had given up drinking and smoking pot, I couldn’t help thinking that the pool hall wasn’t a good place for him to be hanging out.
“Christy bought a round of drinks for everyone, saying she was about to be rolling in dough since her aunt had died.”
A shard of guilt shot through my chest. Who was going to tell her that Dorothy had left the house to Jonah Pruitt? Maybe that was why she was here now. Could be she’d just found out.
“How’d she afford that?” I asked. Her beat-up Ford Fiesta attested to her financial status. “She doesn’t have any money yet.”