Red Beans and Vice Read Online Free Page B

crisis at the convent had taken time, what with the police and the archdiocesan people, who had offices at the convent, all hovering and asking the committee members questions they couldn’t answer, like what time had they gone outside to the inner courtyard, had they heard any strange noises, and stuff like that. For every question there had been multiple answers from the ladies:
    “We were outside for at least thirty minutes.”
    “It wasn’t more than fifteen minutes we were in the garden.” “I thought I heard something.”
    “You couldn’t hear yourself think what with all the expert opinions in that room.”
    “Well, you know, Amelia Hart did show up uninvited to the meeting with trouble on her mind. Maybe she …”
    Heaven herself tried not to jump in the middle of a police investigation as she would if she were in Kansas City. She felt Amelia certainly wouldn’t feel bad about defacing the convent property on moral grounds. But why would she come in and let them know she was gunning for them if she’d just tossed paint around on the other side of the entry hall? And where was the cross? Certainly not with her in that meeting. She could have hired an accomplice to do the dirty work, but Heaven thought she was smarter than that. And not quite so twisted.
    A man Heaven vaguely remembered as Truely Whitten stood up as they crossed the dimly lit barroom. He had been sitting with two men, one of whom was red-faced with anger. As Truely stood up and buttoned his jacket, he offered his hand to the angry man, who jumped out of his chair, ignored the hand, and went out of the bar into the hotel, away from Mary and Heaven.
    They arrived at the table just in time to hear the second man saying, “This isn’t a joke, old man,” as he also walked away. Truely opened his mouth to say something to the retreating figure, then started when he finally noticed the two women standing next to him. Heaven had imagined he’d noticed them and had stood up in greeting, but judging by his look of surprise that turned on a dime to a fabulous grin, that was not the case. It was the grin of a Southern male, an aren’t-I-something-and-I-know-I-am-cause-my-momma-told-me-so grin. It was also a good acting job.
    “Dear lord, Mary Beth, you scared the bejesus out of me. Where in the hell have you been, sugar?” Along with this playful rebuke Mary (Beth?) received a kiss on her cheek. Then he turned to Heaven. “I guess it’s been almost ten years since I’ve seen you, Heaven. You were married to that uniform manufacturer. Welcome to New Orleans, darlin’. Sit down right here.”
    As they took the two seats warmed up by the departed men, Mary asked about them. “Wasn’t that Leon Davis?”
    “Yes, sugar.”
    “Who was that with him?”
    “His plant manager. They spotted me sitting here all by my lonesome and made a beeline over to give me grief.”
    “Who’s Leon Davis?” Heaven asked, realizing it sounded nosy.
    Mary sniffed. “He owns the other coffee company. He’s always trying to get Truely to sell him ours.”
    “Now, Mary Beth, you know I don’t pay him a bit of attention. He’s like an old jaybird, fussin’ around.”
    Heaven blanched. He must call her Mary Beth all the time.
    Truely just grinned that grin and signaled to the waitress. “Martinis all right?”
    Heaven nodded. “Remind me I can only have one, even if I’m not driving. I get into trouble if I have more than one. Bombay up with an olive and a twist, please.”
    Truely tapped his empty martini glass to indicate more of the same and Mary ordered hers, “Absolut Citron up, please, with a twist. Oh, make it a Cosmopolitan, what the hell,” and shook her finger at her husband. “Wait till we tell you what happened over at the convent. You won’t believe it. But first, just tell me why Leon’s man was saying it wasn’t a joke and Leon himself looked like he was about to blow a gasket?”
    “Mary Beth, you know how it is. He thinks if he throws