She cocked her head and narrowed an eye. “What’s it to you, sugar?”
“What’s it to me as in why do I want to know? Or what’s it to me as in what do you get out of telling me?”
Laughing again, she wagged a finger at me. “Originally, I was thinking the first one, but now I’m intrigued. I choose door number two.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “You find out that info for me, and I’ll share the biggest bit of gossip you’ll hear all day. All week. All month. Maybe all year.”
Her eyes went wide. There wasn’t a more powerful currency to her than a big fat juicy bit of gossip.
“Give me two minutes.” She spun and went into the kitchen.
Again, I turned and looked out the front window. Idella, Dr. Gabriel, and Hyacinth were gone, but I did see Mr. Butterbaugh walk past, his sights set on my shop, which was diagonally across the Ring.
Last night at the ball I had the feeling that he had taken quite a liking to Eulalie. Sooner rather than later, I was going to have to talk with him and let him and his weak constitution down easy. It would be much easier on all of us if he didn’t start mooning after her.
Sipping my coffee, I waited for Jessa to return. Voices drifted from the kitchen, but I couldn’t make out any words. A few minutes later, she came tearing toward me, carrying a pink pastry box tied with a string.
She dropped the box on the counter and rubbed her hands together. “I got Odell to call up Otis.”
“There’s a phone on the plane?”
“Cell phone for work. I declare he’s the only one in this town that has one, not that it works around here, but it picks up a signal in Rock Creek.” Her cheeks plumped as she smiled. “And on the tarmac in Montgomery.”
“Montgomery? Wait—is that where Mayor Ramelle is?”
“Sure as I’m standing here. You did not hear this from me, y’hear? Otis signed some sort of confidentiality contract with the mayor, and she’s a good paying client. I don’t want no trouble for him.”
“I won’t tell. Pinkie swear.”
Dropping her voice low, she said, “He flies her there every Sunday and sometimes during the week when she has a free day. A private car sent by the casino picks her up at the landing strip and brings her back hours later.”
There were only a couple of casinos in Alabama, all of which were in the southern part of the state, a good three-hour drive away, but only a half hour by plane. If you wanted to gamble up here, the options were limited to lottery tickets, the dog track, and local bingo parlors.
Hold up now.
Hadn’t Ainsley mentioned that Barbara Jean had played bingo every week at the church with Jenny Jane? “Casinos don’t tend to send private cars for casual players,” I said, thinking out loud.
“No ma’am,” Jessa said. “High rollers only. The big bucks.”
“How big?” I asked.
“It’s not unheard-of to have a budget of one hundred thousand dollars to wager.”
Good Lord. “Per year?”
“Per day.”
I about fell off my seat.
A customer came inside, and Jessa stepped aside to ring up the take-out order.
Mayor Ramelle, a high roller? I knew she and Doug had money, but that much money to play weekly?
Did the Harpies know about this? Was it possible she was wagering Harpies money? After all, she was their treasurer. How closely did they check their books? And what about the town? She had access to all the town’s resources as well.
Yet . . . she still played bingo. The largest pot at bingo was fifty bucks on a good night.
Which told me that maybe it wasn’t so much the money the mayor cared about. It was the competition. The winning. She was a gambler. Maybe even an addict, I suspected, jumping headlong to that conclusion despite lacking proof just yet, other than my instincts.
No wonder Doug hadn’t wanted to tell me where she’d gone.
Hoo boy.
Talk about a hornet’s nest.
Jessa bade her customer a good day, came back to me with eager eyes, and said, “Your turn.”
“Looks like Haywood Dodd was the mysterious heir to the Ezekiel mansion.”
She faux swooned, pressing her hand to her heart. “If that don’t beat all. Is that why someone whumped him upside the head with a candlestick?”
“Don’t know quite yet. Lots of questions to figure out still.”
“Well, I’d say you paid up but good, Carly, plus some. Them there cupcakes are on the house.”
My job here was done. I’d learned some about Mayor Ramelle, and Jessa would surely share the news of the Ezekiel mansion to anyone and everyone. The sooner that word got around the better.
The thing about hornets’ nests was that once the hornets were flushed out of it, you could set about getting rid of the thing altogether.
? ? ?
No sooner had I stepped out of the coffee shop did Wendell Butterbaugh practically run smack into me.