It's Murder at the Buy-Right

17

It was Sunday. The store was closed. Daisy Ann was vacuuming and singing a honky-tonk song at the top of her lungs.

"I'm not grievin' 'cause you're leaving! Broken hearts just ain't for me. Still, I'm hopin' and believin' that she'll mow you down right at the knees."

Those were not the right words, but the guitars and drums were so loud at that point in the song that this was what Daisy Ann thought they were singing.

Maybe it didn't make sense to most folks, but Daisy Ann had dated a few scoundrels in her day, and the sentiment made perfect sense to her.

It also didn't matter that she couldn't carry a tune in fifty-gallon barrel. The vacuum covered up all but the shrillest notes she sang.

She flipped off the switch. Someone was knocking on her door so loudly that she feared the door would cave in.

"Hold your horses! I'm coming!"

She opened the door to Richmond Eades. He was in street clothes, and he was holding a kitten.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Just a little something I picked up from the pound. You know, Miss Daisy Ann, the lost and found," he said.

"What are you talking about, Richmond?"

"Heard you lost a stray," Eades said, grinning like a fox in the chicken coop. "Deke said . . ."

"Pay attention to what you're doing," Daisy Ann said. "You're choking that poor thing."

She took the small baby ball of fluff from the deputy's hand.

"Yes, I guess I did. Broken-hearted and all tore up about it, too. Thank you, kindly."

She'd rather keep hogs in her bathtub than have a house cat, but she'd never let Richmond Eades know.

"Thanks again, Deputy," she said. "My birthday's the end of the month. I didn't think anybody would remember."

Eades was wearing polarized sunglasses. It was impossible to read his eyes.

Daisy Ann didn't need to. His were a weasel's, and they never changed.

"If there's nothing else, I got a lot of house work to do. If he's a boy, I'll name him after you."

She closed the door, leaning against it for support.

"Fat chance," she breathed.

Why did he affect her that way?

He made her skin crawl. Daisy Ann liked to believe there was good in everyone, but sometimes she wondered if she was just being naive.

She rang up Deke.

"I got a present for you. It's a real doozy. Take my word for it, you're gonna love it."

"What are you talking about?"

"Richmond Eades was just over here. He had a kitten, of all things, in his hands. Said something about me losing a stray and mentioned your name."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing," Daisy Ann said. "Why would I let on I had no clue what he was talking about? That man is Evil's spawn.

I did what I always do when I'm chatting up spawn.

I lied through my teeth.

Told him I had lost a cat. Thanked him for the early birthday present.

Now, get over here right now and pick it up. I'm returning it.

You hear me, Deke. And you take it home with you. And don't you dare drop it off at the pound."

"Daisy Ann."

"Don't Daisy Ann me. Why was Eades banging down my door on the Sabbath? You know I can't stomach that man.

He's like five-day-old boiled okra.

Slimey.

What's going on, Deke? Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"Nothing's going on. What color's the cat?"

"Orange. And before you say one word, the answer is 'no.'

No. No. No. I did not lose a cat, and I do not want a kitten."

"I'll bet he's as cute as a button," Deke said.

"He clashes with my hair," she said.

"Everything clashes with your hair."

"I'll get you for that. I will. And it won't be pretty, Deke Dewitt.

You know what they say.

Payback is the pits."

"I'll be right over. Tell me, is it really a he?"

Daisy Ann turned the little ball of fur over.

"Not today, padnah. He's a she."