Chapter 18
“I’m coming. I’m coming,” I called as I hurried to answer the door.
The doorbell pealed repeatedly, each ring more insistent than the one before.
I saw the flash of red and blue through the sidelights even before I opened the door. My heartbeat revved into overdrive. Police? Fire? EMS? Had our bunco game grown so hot and steamy, it set the house ablaze?
I found Sheriff Wiggins on my doorstep. A quick glance at his face, and I knew it wasn’t a social call. He wasn’t dropping by to beg for more lemon bars. He looked official with a capital O. My guilty conscience kicked in. Was I about to be arrested for sins of omission?
“Sheriff…?” I tried to keep the nervous wobble out of my voice, but don’t think I succeeded. “What brings you here?”
“I’ve been informed Miz Ledeaux is here.”
I peeked around him, no easy task with a man the size of a moon crater, and saw he’d brought reinforcements. Deputy Preston stared straight ahead and didn’t meet my gaze. I spotted a second deputy, one I’d seen during a previous encounter with law enforcement. Sad to say, I didn’t know the man’s name-or whether he could be bribed with baked goods.
I fidgeted with the pendant I was wearing. “We’re right in the middle of bunco. Couldn’t this wait?”
“ ’Fraid not, ma’am. I have a warrant for her arrest.”
I gaped at him. “Surely this is a mistake. Claudia wouldn’t hurt a soul. She’s the epitome of kindness. Lance’s death was a horrible mistake.”
“Step aside, Miz McCall, and let us be about our business.” Strange that such a beautiful baritone could suddenly hit the wrong note.
While the fingers of my left hand twisted the slender silver chain at my neck, my right hand clutched the door handle until the knuckles gleamed white. “Lance and Claudia were newlyweds. What reason would she have to kill him?”
True, the cad was going through her money like water, but she’d have found a way to stop this without resorting to violence. Had the sheriff found out about Lance’s spending? The Super Bowl bet? The Jaguar?
“Miz McCall,” he drawled, “unless you want to be charged with-”
“Obstruction of justice?”
He frowned so deeply, his brows pulled together in a unibrow over the bridge of his nose. “I was about to say harborin’ a fugitive. Now kindly step aside.”
I think he just made up the harboring a fugitive part, but he didn’t look in the mood for a friendly debate. Wordlessly, I did as he asked and allowed him and his men to enter.
Reluctantly I led the sheriff and his deputies through the foyer. The sheriff stopped so abruptly on the threshold of the great room that I was surprised he didn’t leave skid marks on my tile. Preston and his fellow officer did likewise, their hands automatically resting on their holstered weapons.
The sound of a male voice, or maybe the fact I hadn’t yet returned, had drawn the attention of the rest of the Babes. Alarmed, they stared at the sheriff and his men in morbid fascination.
The sheriff’s cold-eyed stare zeroed in on the dice. “What’s goin’ on heah?”
I let out an impatient huff. “I told you-we’re in the middle of bunco.”
The man had a nasty habit of ignoring my explanations. Months ago I thought I’d made it clear that bunco was nothing more than a harmless dice game. Apparently he’d stuffed that bit of information into a file labeled RAMBLINGS OF AN OLD WOMAN.
“Well, well, did we interrupt some kind of illegal gamblin’ operation?”
“Illegal gambling?” Monica gasped, her eyes wide in disbelief.
“Men,” he ordered his deputies, “have yourselves a good look around. If you see any traces of unlawful gamin’ and bettin’, collect the evidence.”
“Here,” Polly said, offering Deputy Preston a trio of dice. “You want ’em, take ’em. Not having much luck tonight anyway.”
Preston ignored Polly’s outstretched hand. “Don’t see any money, Sheriff.”
I resented this invasion of my home and didn’t care if my irritation showed. “Is this a raid, Sheriff?”
“Aren’t you supposed to have a search warrant?” Diane spoke up.
“Diane’s right, you know,” Pam said, jumping into the fray. “We’re not stupid; we watch TV.”
Our indignation must’ve been contagious, because one by one the Babes rose to their feet, arms folded across their chests, no longer intimidated but outraged.
“What next?” Janine asked. “Arrest school kids for playing Monopoly during spring break?”
Tara nodded in total agreement. “What about Yahtzee?”
“Yahtzee’s played with dice. Does that make it illegal?”
I stared in surprise to see sweet little Megan with her chin jutting defiantly. The child had definitely had her feathers ruffled.
“And then there’s dominoes,” Rita pointed out reasonably. “Are they going to be outlawed, too?”
The sheriff’s jaw hardened until I could see the muscle jump and twitch. He was clearly outnumbered-and out-maneuvered by twelve angry women. “I didn’t come tonight to interfere with your… recreation. I’ll take your word that no money crosses hands. That this is no high-stakes game.”
“The winner gets a tiara,” Polly volunteered. “That considered ‘high stakes’?”
Polly sounded innocent, guileless. Had it been me, I might’ve been tempted to inject a liberal dose of sarcasm into the question.
Sheriff Wiggins’s laser-sharp eyes swept over each of us in turn before settling on Claudia. “Miz Ledeaux, you’ll have to come with us. I’m placin’ you under arrest for the murder of your husband, Mr. Lance Ledeaux.”
All eyes turned to Claudia. She looked white faced and terrified.
“Preston, please escort Miz Ledeaux to the patrol car.”
Preston stepped forward and took Claudia by the arm. Claudia wasn’t about to go softly into that good night. She dug her heels into the Berber carpet and tried to jerk free. “I’m not going anywhere. I didn’t murder Lance.”
“Ma’am,” Preston said, his voice low but firm, “if you don’t come quietly, the sheriff’s going to have me put you in handcuffs. You don’t want that, do you, in front of all your nice lady friends?”
Claudia’s gaze darted around frantically until she found me. “Kate,” she pleaded, “call Badgeley. Tell him what’s happened.”
Needless to say, bunco ended early. Seeing Claudia hauled off in the sheriff’s cruiser had a sobering effect on the Babes that not even a pitcher of whiskey sours could dispel. Fortunately, I was able to reach Badgeley Jack at home. He assured me he’d go at once to the sheriff’s office. He told me to get a good night’s rest-fat chance!-and call him in the morning for an update. I’d decided to go one better. I’d be waiting on the doorstep when his office opened.
Surprisingly, Krystal managed to sleep through the entire bunco game and ensuing brouhaha. I envied her. That kind of ability almost made me wish I were pregnant. Notice the word almost.
After driving Krystal to work at the Koffee Kup the next morning, I bided my time over coffee and a blueberry muffin. There was no sense driving all the way home, just to turn around again. Besides, muffins were a nice change from my usual bagel and cream cheese routine.
While savoring my second cup of coffee, I made a mental note to call Bill and have him put a bug in his friend’s ear. Krystal needed her car-and sooner rather than later. The problem was she had no money. In a moment of uncontrollable generosity, I’d offered to pay for the repairs. I used to lend money, but no more. I’ve found loaning money is the best way of destroying a friendship or blighting a relationship. Now I donate money, no strings attached. If I get paid back, great. If not, so be it.
A glance at my watch told me it was nine o’clock and time to leave. I left Krystal, who’d waited on me, a hefty tip. Maybe she’d use her tip money to repay me. Maybe pigs will fly.