Well Read, Then Dead(111)
“She’s been telling all her friends you are more than tope.” At my blank look, Maggie explained. “As far as I can figure, ‘tope’ is beyond cool, so you are way beyond cool.”
I polished my imaginary crown, which had even Augusta chuckling.
“Don’t be surprised if she comes around begging you to start a teen book club. Her friends think you’re poppin’—what we used to call ‘happening.’”
Maggie gave me a warm hug good-bye.
Judge Harcroft looked sheepish as he stepped up to our table. He told me how sorry he was for my trouble and that he was glad I was feeling better. He started to turn away and then thought the better of it.
“Augusta, I . . .” He faltered and then recovered. “I am sorry for any discomfort I might have caused at the reception for Delia. I had no idea.”
She glared at him for a long while and then exchanged a twinkle-in-the-eye look with Blondie. “Some things can’t be helped. Any little boy knows that.”
Confused but glad to have been given absolution, he turned toward the door, saying, “If you all will forgive me, I must . . .”
“Dash.” Augusta completed his sentence for him.
His confusion mounting, he flushed and slipped out the door.
Like the judge, most folks said their piece and left quickly. A couple of regulars were snacking on the courtesy sweet tea and cookies that Bridgy and Ophie had set out. One or two others were looking at the bookshelves, but my reign as queen had come nearly to an end.
When Sally Caldera came in, I heard Jocelyn whispering, “Mustn’t tire Sassy. She’s been through a lot, you know.”
Would Jocelyn remember to be so kind to me at future book club meetings? Oh, but with Rowena gone, who would she tussle with? My face must have clouded, because in an instant Bridgy was hovering like a helicopter looking for the perfect spot to land.
I waved her off, but rather than go away she leaned in and whispered. “It’s Rowena, right? All this talk about book clubs. You’re having flashbacks.”
Getting all huffy about my book clubs being under attack, I said through clenched teeth, “Well it’s not like she tried to kill me at a book club meeting.”
Bridgy bent down and whispered in my ear, “Seriously? If she’d killed anyone at a book club meeting, it would have been Jocelyn.”
And we rolled into one of our fits of hysterical laughter, which had become more frequent now that I was home from the hospital and feeling better.
“Well, you two are in a festive mood.” Frank Anthony was standing right behind Bridgy, Ryan at his side.
Ryan stepped forward and presented a shiny silver bag, tied with a half dozen rainbow-colored curly ribbons, to Miss Augusta. It got her so rattled that we were all grateful he didn’t insist she open it. She could do that in her own good time.
Without being asked, they swung chairs around and joined our little group, which had dwindled down to Miss Augusta, her neighbor Blondie, Cady, Miguel, his sister Elena, Bridgy and me, with Ophie flitting around offering more sweet tea and cookies. After Jocelyn made a little speech about how happy she was to be of some minor help, which we all knew meant “you couldn’t have held a funeral, caught a killer or done anything else without my assistance,” she and Pastor walked out with Sally. The few remaining stragglers seemed to sense that it was time to go, and in a few moments we were left to talk among ourselves. I wondered how Augusta would feel about my asking Frank and Ryan a few questions. While I was still trying to decide, Miss Augusta charged ahead full throttle.
“Since Sassy went out and found your killer for you, don’t you think you should tell her what in tarnation this was all about?”