Read Pearls and Poison (A Consignment Shop Mystery) for Free Online Page B

signed by Judge Crooksy. Crooksy never did like Mamma. Ross snagged the bottle out of my hand and dropped it in a big plastic baggie. Her face morphed into a frown. “You should know that I hate doing this; I truly do. Your mamma is a fine judge and would be a terrific alderman. I get why she knocked off Seymour. If dirty politics were an Olympic event, he’d win the gold. Your mamma should have hidden the bottle in a better place, is all.”
    “See, that’s just it,” I said, trying to reason with Ross. “Don’t you think it’s a little odd that a criminal judge would make a stupid mistake like hiding damning evidence in such an obvious place as her daughter’s garbage can? After all her years on the bench she’d know how to commit a perfect crime, right? This bottle was planted by the real killer; you’ve got to see that. Besides, Mamma would never toss glass into the garbage. She recycles!”
    “Maybe she thought Seymour’s death would be attributed to an accidental overdose of his heart medication and wouldn’t go any further than that. Maybe she intended to come get the bottle later today. Maybe she thought the trash collectors would be here by now. And maybe you’re right as rain. It’s up to the DA and lawyers to prove what’s what and sort out the facts. I’m just doing my job.”
    “But you’re wrong.”
    Ross and cohorts drove off with the damning bottle, and KiKi hurried across her perfect Kentucky bluegrass and onto my Georgia weed grass. She was barefoot, orange hair rollers still in place, red dancing skirt swirling around her knees, and a blotch of green still clinging to the tip of her nose. “Why was Ross here? I saw her out the bedroom window. I do declare the woman’s like the plague. Having her around wreaks havoc and mayhem on us all.”
    “There was a honey bourbon bottle in my garbage of all places, and my guess is it’s the one Mamma brought to Scumbucket’s place. Now Ross is off to match fingerprints, and then she’ll arrest Mamma.”
    KiKi plopped right down on the grass, red skirt billowing up, giving her a stuffed-tomato appearance. “Oh, honey. Jail’s a mighty bad place if you’re a cop; it’s got to be even worse if you’re a criminal judge.”
    My mouth went dry. I hadn’t even thought of that. Mamma’s situation had just gone from bad to disastrous. I hauled KiKi to her feet. “You get to Mamma and protect her somehow till I get there. I’m going to see a man about life insurance. Hurry.”
    I locked BW inside then hoofed it down Gwinnett. Ross was gonna do what she had to do, and I had to get Mamma help from someone experienced with the inner workings of jail. My knowledge about the place came from watching
Law and Order
when I had a TV and playing Monopoly when I was a kid.
    Without wheels I was on first-name basis with the drivers of the Savannah mass-transit system known as Old Gray. I stood in the street and waved my arms over my head. The bus growled to a halt, double doors folded back, and a woman resembling Ice Cube—the younger years, minus the facial hair—peered down at me.
    “Girl, you know this ain’t no taxi that picks you up when you feel the need. You’re supposed to get yourself to an official stop and wait like everyone else in this here city for the bus to come to you.”
    “Earlene.” I jumped inside so she couldn’t motor on without me. “I have a situation.”
    “You always got a situation.” She tipped back her navy uniform cap and drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, waiting for me to deposit my fare.
    “I sort of ran off without my purse, and I need to get to Seventeenth Street.”
    “Seventeenth Street?” Her eyes arched over her sunglasses, and the four passengers on board scurried out the rear door. “You need to get yourself somewhere else.”
    “I’ll pay you twice tomorrow, I swear.”
    More finger drumming, eyes on the fare box, no bus movement.
    “I’ll bring you a meatloaf sandwich from Parker’s,