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came in to shop and Anna added in a low voice, “That’s why we came here to talk to you. We saw you on the morning news and realized you dislike that no-good, low-rent, middle-Georgia Boone person as much as we do. I could cut the man’s heart out with a spoon, I could, and it’s a darn shame too with him being so fine and deliciousto look at. One glance at that man and a girl wants to sink her teeth into his tight little butt. So you can take the clothes, right?”
    I was still back at Boone’s butt.
    â€œI’ll bring the clothes over when dear Clive passes on so you can get them right out on the floor fast and sold quick-like.”
    The sisters trotted out the front door and down the sidewalk as Mercedes came in the back door. Her hair was always soft and sleek and her makeup perfect, and the peach pashmina draped around her shoulders accented her dark skin perfectly. I wanted to be Mercedes when I grew up.
    â€œWhat in the world were the gold-digger sisters doing here?” she asked. “Those two gals are not exactly the consignment-shop type.”
    â€œThey’re inquiring about selling men’s clothes.”
    Mercedes stopped dead. “Holy Mary in heaven. Well, there you go. Those two got plans and it’s not where to spend their next anniversary. Think we should warn the poor unfortunates married to them? It only seems fitting that we do something.”
    â€œâ€˜Your wife’s planning to knock you off’ may not go over too well, but they are paying a visit to Odilia right now to speed things up.” We both made the sign of the cross at the mention of the local voodoo priestess, who knew how to get the job done. Nine months ago Wanda Fleming went to Odilia because her daughter wasn’t getting pregnant. Last week she delivered triplets.
    â€œI knew it,” Mercedes said, slapping her palm on my checkout counter, which was actually an old greenpaint-chipped door I had found in the attic and laid across the backs of two chairs. “It’s like I figured all along. Anna and Bella are prime suspects in this mess with Conway, and if they’re planning on their very own husbands’ demise, doing in Conway and framing Walker for the deed is a piece of cake, don’t you think? It’s a perfect fit.”
    â€œThey did mention Boone and it wasn’t to sing his praises, except for his butt. But how would they get hold of Boone’s .38?”
    â€œHoney, every woman in Savannah praises that man’s fine behind, and the fact that Mr. Walker keeps a .38 in his desk drawer is legendary. Word has it that someone used it to put a bullet right into his wood-paneled office, of all things. Do you believe that?”
    I did the big swallow. Actually I did believe it ’cause I sort of did the shooting.
    â€œBut the reason I came over is I got news,” Mercedes said. She came around to the back of the counter and whispered, “I was fixing up Conway to ‘Stayin’ Alive,’ that being my favorite fix-up music and all. I was taking my time, making him look real good, and lo and behold if some guy didn’t barge right into the room big as you please. He pulled out a carving knife and stabbed Conway right in the heart. I mean, the man’s already dead as a post, for Pete’s sake. How much deader can he get and now I got another hole to fill in, like I didn’t have enough work from the .38 and it messed up the embalming something fierce. Some people have no consideration.”
    â€œâ€˜Stayin’ Alive’?”
    â€œThe Bee Gees.”
    â€œDid you call the police?”
    â€œFolk are already croaked when we get ’em, nothing much more can happen to them, right? The Slumber is not exactly a flashing-lights-and-sirens sort of establishment. We’re more into lilies and ferns and hankies and tea and cookies and ‘Doesn’t he look good for a dead guy.’ I have no idea who the