Grant moved down the hallway, following the voices, until they entered the master bedroom. The first thing he saw—surprisingly—was Bert Swenson standing nervously by the doorway. He was wearing his bathrobe over his pajamas, his thin graying hair was going every which way, and he was nervously chewing at his thumbnail. If Bert was okay . . .
Grant moved past him into the room. There were clothes scattered all over the floor. There was even a bra there that he gingerly stepped over. Bert had company. Naomi and Isaac were both hovering over a still figure on the bed. When Isaac turned to get something out of the case, he could see the face at last. It was Estelle Townsend, the owner of Rosewood Bakery and the one who had paid seven thousand dollars for Bert’s company at the bachelor auction.
Oh dear . . . Grant’s eyes widened when he realized Miss Estelle was wearing a lacy, red negligee. There was a giant bottle of lubricant on the nightstand next to a hot-pink vibrator that would make any man feel inadequate. She and Bert had been . . . He squeezed his eyes shut to block out the images in his mind, but it didn’t help.
Naomi’s fingers pressed into Estelle’s neck for a moment. The entire room stood silent, waiting for what to do next. Each of them was ready to snap into action, but the sad frown on her face made Grant realize quickly that there was nothing to be done. He’d tried to hold out some hope, but the pale, unnatural color of Estelle’s skin beneath her heavy makeup had given away the truth. She’d been dead for quite a while, probably with Bert unknowingly asleep beside her.
“She’s gone.” Naomi tugged the blanket up to cover Estelle’s face. “Radio Sheriff Todd to send his boys down here and have him notify her daughter, Robin, as next of kin. Also, someone call Walter Hancock at the funeral home to come pick up the body.”
“I’ve killed her,” Bert said sadly from the doorway, shaking his head. “People kept telling me I should date again, that it would be good for me after Margaret died. I thought at worst I’d throw out my back or something. I never expected something like this.”
Mack went up to Bert and put a comforting arm on his shoulder. “You didn’t kill her, Bert. At her age, her weakened heart could’ve given out at any time. It’s not your fault.”
They ushered the distraught older man down the hallway and sat him in his recliner. Bert just shook his head. “It is my fault. I told her how good I was. She thought I was just bragging, but it was God’s honest truth. I never let a woman leave my bed unsatisfied. That just wasn’t the gentlemanly thing to do in my mind.”
Grant paused, his eyes growing wider as the man spoke. The lingerie and the vibrator were bad enough. He didn’t want to hear this. He and Mack exchanged looks of mutual horror, but Bert kept right on talking.
“Estelle told me she’d only had two real orgasms in her forty years of marriage and she wanted to make up for lost time. She said she’d paid seven grand for me and she wanted me to earn every cent of it in bed. She didn’t want dinner or a ride around the lake in my boat. All she wanted was the best loving I could give her. I took that as a challenge and look what happened! She’s dead.”
Overwhelmed, Grant sunk down into a plastic-covered wingback chair and exhaled the breath he’d been holding.
At least she died happy.
Chapter 11
“We’ve been so busy today, I haven’t gotten to ask how your week off went,” Sarah said, balancing the cash drawer and going through the day’s receipts.
Pepper looked up at her, setting her broom aside. She’d just finished cleaning up her station after her last appointment. She had been quieter than usual today. Since her discussion with her mother Sunday afternoon, she’d found herself in a
whirl of activity. She’d unpacked boxes, hung pictures, and put away things she didn’t even know she owned, they’d been boxed up so long. Anything and everything she could do to keep her mind from wandering down that dark path, the better. Once she was at the salon, she stocked shelves, cleaned, and even organized the magazines between clients.
Between that and the news of Estelle Townsend’s death throwing everyone for a loop, there hadn’t been much time to chat.
Pepper shrugged. “It was fine. I got a lot done. I need to do a few more things and then I can actually have company over.”
Sarah smiled. “That’s great, Pepper. I know you were worried about all that money going to the auction. Sounds like Grant is more handy than you thought.”
Oh, he was excellent with his hands, she thought. But “Yep” was all Pepper said. “He had the guys from the firehouse come help one morning, too. That was nice.”
Sarah slammed the cash register drawer shut and put the deposit in the locked envelope she dropped at the bank each evening. “And Valentine’s Day?” she pressed.
Pepper sighed. Her instinct was to dodge the topic of Grant, but she really couldn’t do that anymore. Whether or not her family approved and whether or not Grant’s father was a son of a bitch, they were dating. He’d asked and she’d accepted, so Grant was her boyfriend. That meant their relationship was out in the open now, consequences be damned.
“We went to Whittaker’s. After a long week, just the thought of driving to Birmingham was exhausting.”
“I bet.” Sarah picked up the envelope and grabbed her coat off the hook. “Are you about ready to close up? I’ve got to drop off this deposit and get to the Piggly Wiggly to get something to take over to Robin Townsend tonight.”
The obligatory food parade had already begun. Pepper needed to take over something, she just had no clue what. “Any idea what you’re bringing?”
Sarah shrugged. “Maybe a pot of vegetable soup. The weather turned cold today and it’s supposed to stay pretty cold through the week. I thought something warm and comforting might be nice. Maybe chili since it’s chilly!” she said brightly.
“I was thinking a tray of deviled eggs. Or maybe a congealed salad that I can chill overnight and take over in the morning before the shop opens.”
“You’ve got time,” Sarah said. “The visitation is Wednesday afternoon and the service is Wednesday evening.”
“They pulled that together pretty quickly,” Pepper noted with a frown. She wasn’t expecting it to be until Thursday at the earliest.
“Well, Estelle probably had a prepaid plan put together when her husband died. If the plot and the casket and such were already taken care of, it’s just a matter of coordinating everything with the funeral home. And between you and me, Robin is probably keen to get through all this before the rumors start swirling about her mother and Bert.”