Down Home and Deadly

don’t like it, you won’t be out anything.” Carly gave away pies to police officers ; surely she wouldn’t mind if I gave tea to keep the peace.
    “Well, the price is right. Go ahead.”
    As I returned with her tea, I noticed others in the café were eyeing our unusual customer with interest. She was returning the favor, meeting glances all around the room. I rattled off the specials , and she ordered, but as I turned to hand the order in, she wrapped long fingers topped with pointed, blood-red nails around my wrist.
    “Hang on a minute, h oney. Let’s talk . ”
    “Let me turn your order in.” I gingerly disengaged my wrist. “ Then I’ll take a break. That way I can talk without getting jumped by the boss.” I was careful not to say this loud enough for anyone to hear and repeat it to Carly. I really didn’t want to get jumped by my big sis. I handed the woman ’s order through the window to the kitchen and returned to her table. As I sat, she pulled a pack of cigarettes from the small purse she had slung around her shoulder. I must’ve looked as shocked as I felt, since there were No Smoking signs on every wall.
    “What? No smoking here, either?” She shook her head as she replaced the pack. “Man. What do you people do for entertainment?”
    “Well, we eat a lot,” I deadpanned , and was rewarded with a loud crack of laughter.
    She slapped the table with her open palm. “Girlfriend, you are a riot.”
    “What brings you to our little town?”
    “Little is the right word. It sure wasn’t to be entertained. Nope. I came on a mission. I am a woman on a pilgrimage, you might say. This little one-horse town is where one of my old mistakes came right. Did that ever happen to you?” She nudged me.
    “I don’t know . ” I was confused , and it showed.
    “Well, I’ll tell ya, s ister, I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life. I ain’t ashamed to say it. But one of my first ones was marrying a weasel. Have you ever done that? You married?”
    The kitchen window bell rang. “Not yet.” I walked over to pick up her order then set the full plate in front of her. She continued to talk as I sat back down
    “Well, take my advice and steer shy of it. And if you do get married, make sure he ain’t a weasel. My man, Jimmy, he was slick. And sweet-talking? Why, that man could talk the bark off a tree.” She paused to take a gulp of tea. “This tea’s good. Anyhow, he was crooked as a snake. See this snake on my shoulder? I got that after Jimmy and me split up. That’s my reminder not to fall for any more snakes. Yeah, me and Jimmy got married when I was just a girl. Then I found out he wadn’t what you might call honest. No sirree.” She took a large bite of mashed potatoes and gravy and kept talking as she chewed. “But we did one thing right. We made wills. You got a will?”
    “Yes, m a’am.”
    “Smart girl. Yep. Me and Jimmy made wills and left all our worldly possessions—don’t that sound fine?—all our worldly possessions to each other. I never thought much about it until a lawyer called me a couple days ago. He told me Jimmy had done cashed in his chips in a little one-horse town nobody’d ever heard of. And I’m thirty thousand dollars richer. Best thing Jimmy Dean Finley ever done for me was die.”
    “You mean—? J.D. Finley was your husband?”
    “Ex, h oney. I divorced him for reasons we needn’t go into, over twenty years ago. But he never changed his will. So I came here on this pilgrimage to see where he bit the dust. And to celebrate.”
    A loud clatter jerked my eyes to the kitchen area. Debbie stood in the midst of breakage, and I noted absently that her customer must’ve ordered strawberry shortcake. She looked as if she had been in a wreck, splashed with strawberry juice to her knees.
    “I’m sure glad that little lady wadn’t bringing my food.” My companion winked at me. “I b’lieve you guys need to invest in some superglue for her. Stick that tray to her hands.”
    “Excuse me a second,” I murmured and rushed to help Debbie and Marco clean up the mess. Only Debbie didn’t stick around. She simply turned and walked to the kitchen. But not before I saw the tears streaming down her face. Either Carly was going to have to find out what was bugging Debbie or buy unbreakable dishes. After we cleaned everything up, I went back to the table.
    “Ain’t you Mr. Clean ? With hair, of course, ” she remarked sardonically. “That little gal needs to