Wilmington, NC 05 - Murder On The ICW

furniture?"
    "In storage and at the upholsterer's." I led the way into the living room. "I'm using that gorgeous oil painting of the sunset at Wrightsville Beach as my inspiration. Pulling the colors from it for upholstery for the furniture: the sand color of the beach, the golden-green of sea oats. With the pinks and crimsons of the sunset for throw pillows to punch up the color scheme."
    We moved into the center of the room. "Those sliding glass doors are out of date, Mel. We'll replace them with French doors out to the deck. They'll look charming.
    I guided her back into the foyer and down the hallway to the master bedroom. "In here, we'll have whites and creams. So clean and fresh. We're lucky to have a talented lace maker in town, Nancy Carnegie. She makes lace trimmings by hand. We’ll have her edge white linen bedding with ecru lace."
    I was hoping the purity of the color scheme would act to cleanse the decor and obliterate Melanie's memory of the violence committed here.
    "It'll be beautiful, Mel. Fresh and contemporary. And if you want to sell, the refurbishing will only add to the value of the house. So what do you think?"
    She grabbed me in a hug. "I think you are the most talented person in your field, Ashley Wilkes. You are special, and I take some credit for that, I had a hand in raising you. Why, I helped Mama change your diapers. And you may not remember this, but when you were very little, I spent hours coloring with you. You had a keen eye for color even then and I encouraged you to pursue art. You are the best, little sis."
    I hugged her back. "I love you, Melanie. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't recovered. I was so worried."
    "I'm tough, Ashley. And so are you. Steel magnolias, that's what we are, just like Aunt Ruby."
    She took a step back, holding both my hands in her own. "Ashley, this near-death experience has caused me to do a lot of thinking. I've been reviewing my life. I've made really poor choices, you know. And I intend to change all that. I've turned over a new leaf. Things are going to be different from now on. I intend to make better choices. To use my head as well as my heart. And well," she giggled, "I must confess my libido had a big influence on my choices in men.
    "But poor Mickey didn't deserve what he got. You were right about him, little sis, he was trouble. Most of the men I've been involved with have been trouble. That is about to change. And I promise to be more patient with people, to try to see other points of view, and not make snap judgments."
    The doorbell rang cutting off what I was going to say in response.
    "Oh, shoot! Now who can that be? You expecting one of your workmen?" she asked me.
    She started for the door.
    "Wait, Melanie, let's see who it is before you open the door."
    She turned back to me. "You're right, we have to be careful now, don't we?"
    She looked out a window onto the porch. "Why, it's Crystal Lynne Boleyn. Wonder what she wants. You know, Ashley," she said in a hushed voice as if Crystal Lynne could hear through the closed door, "I never did like that girl. These days you can't tell a hottie from a hoochie , and that one is definitely a hoochie ."
    She held up a hand. "But I'll be nice. I promise."
    She opened the door and exclaimed, "Why, Crystal Lynne, sugar, whatever are you doing here! Come right along inside, sugar. Ashley's here too. Remember her?"
    "Hi, Ashley," Crystal said. "Hey, Melanie."
    "Well, don't you look just like a picture," Melanie said. "Doesn't she, Ashley?"
    "Gorgeous outfit, Crystal Lynne," I said.
    Crystal was dressed up in a shimmery beige silk pants suit with the lace on an ivory silk camisole peeking out of the V-neck of the jacket.
    Crystal reached up and brushed back her hair. "I'm meeting a girlfriend for dinner," she said in a gush. "Girl talk, you know. David had to fly up to Washington. A consulting job. He still keeps a hand in."
    She gazed around at the empty rooms. "You redecorating? Well, shut my mouth, 'course you are. You'd have to be, after what all . . . Melanie, sweetie, how are you feeling?"
    "I'm doing fine, Crystal. Where are my manners? I'm afraid there's no place for us to sit but the bar stools in the kitchen, so let's go on back there. Can I offer you something to drink? I'm sure I've got iced tea in the fridge. And I've got wine. Which would you prefer?"
    "White wine would be nice," Crystal said, setting her purse down on the kitchen counter with a thunk before sliding onto a