The Devil Diet Read online

When I got down to the kitchen, Biggie and Rosebud were sitting at the table eating eggs with grits, ham, and red-eye gravy. I went to the fridge and poured myself a glass of orange juice and joined them just as Willie Mae set a full plate in front of my chair.

  “Yum,” I said.

  “You look right pert this morning.” Rosebud pushed his plate away and took a sip of coffee. “For a man with gal trouble, that is.” He winked at Biggie.

  “I’m gonna call up DeWayne and see if he wants to go bike riding.” I changed the subject.

  “Better wear your jacket,” Biggie said. “It’s nippy out there.”

  “Yes’m. Is there any muscadine jelly?”

  “I gotta open some.” Willie Mae took a fresh jar out of the pantry and twisted off the lid. She used a knife to remove the layer of white paraffin from the top and set the jar with a spoon in front of me. I dug into the jelly and spooned some onto my toast.

  Willie Mae poured herself a mug of coffee and joined us at the table. “What you goin’ to do today?” she asked Biggie.

  “I need to work on the Daughters’ account books. Essie Moody was treasurer this past year, and you wouldn’t believe the—”

  Just then the phone rang. Biggie went to her little desk and answered. “Hello… yes. Well, if you think we need to be there, of course…. Ten o’clock? That’s awfully soon. Oh, well, we’ll get there as fast as we can.”

  “What?” I asked, pretty sure my plans were about to change.

  “That was Jeremy Polk calling from the ranch. He went to Dallas to get Rex’s will from his safe. Now he’s back, and he wants us out there for the reading. We have to hurry.”

  I scooted upstairs to comb my hair and splash on some of the men’s cologne I’d gotten for Christmas last year. When I got back downstairs, Rosebud wrinkled his nose and rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything.

  I relaxed in the backseat of the limo feeling mighty pleased that I was about to see Misty again. If I’d known what was in store for us that day, I would have felt a whole lot different.

  18

  We arrived at the ranch house a few minutes before ten. Jeremy, still wearing a bandage over his left ear, met us at the door.

  “Come into the dining room,” he said. “The others are already gathered there.”

  We followed him into the room where he took a seat at the head of the table. Laura sat at his right, dressed in riding clothes. Grace Higgins was hunched next to her, leaning close and whispering in her ear. Babe sat on Jeremy’s left. Her eyes were red from crying, but that didn’t keep her from scowling at everyone who came into her sight. I didn’t see her husband, Rob, anywhere. The others at the table were Abner, looking uncomfortable, and Josefina, looking even more out of place. As we were being seated, Hamp came in with Misty at his side.

  Jeremy, who had been shuffling the papers in front of him, looked up at the group and began to speak. “Rex wanted to do everything he could to divide his estate in a fair manner,” he said. “I’m not sure you all will agree that he succeeded.” He picked up a sheaf of papers stapled together with a blue cover. “Now, let me see, ‘I James Carroll Barnwell, being of sound mind,’ blah… blah… blah.” His eyes rode down the page. He looked up. “Just getting to the meat of the thing. Umm, okay, here’s where the bequests start.”

  “My God, Jeremy. Didn’t you write the thing? You ought to know it by heart.” Babe squirmed in her seat.

  “Umm, yes, well…“He began reading. “‘To my only daughter, Frances Faye Barnwell, I leave her grandmother’s diamond ring.’”

  Jeremy took a small, velvet box out of his pocket and slid it across the table toward Babe. “He asked me to give you this. You do understand that your father intended the large sum of money he transferred to you recently to constitute your portion of the estate?”

  Babe nodded and opened the ring box. She took out a diamond ring big enough to choke an elephant.

  “Why, that’s worth a fortune!” Laura said, softly.

  “You are so right,” Babe said. “And he left it to me.” She got up and left the room.

  “Ahem,” Jeremy said. “Moving on…“He ran his finger down the page. “‘To my beloved wife, Laura, I leave my ranch, including all buildings and improvements to same, comprising two hundred ten acres out of the James Royce Wooten Survey, Kemp County, Texas.’”

  “What?” Grace almost screamed. “He didn’t leave her any money?”

  Jeremy looked at her. “If I may continue?” He resumed reading. “‘In addition, I leave my wife all my stock in the Ford Motor Company.’” He turned to Laura. “That is a small fortune, Laura. If you’re careful, you should be just fine.”

  Laura nodded, but Grace glowered.

  “Now,” Jeremy went on, “‘to Jason Caldwell, otherwise known as Hamp Caldwell, who has been like a son to me, I leave the sum of one hundred thousand dollars. And to my best friend, Abner Putnam, I leave the mineral and royalty interests in and to the above-mentioned two hundred ten acres in Kemp County, Texas. And there is one last bequest. To Josefina Garza, I leave the sum of ten thousand dollars.’” He folded the will and stuck it in his briefcase.

  Grace sighed. “Well, I guess that means we can continue with our work here.”

  Jeremy held up his hand. “There’s more. The day before he died, Rex made a codicil to his will.” He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a handwritten piece of paper. He read it aloud to us. “‘To my grandson, James Royce Weatherford Jr., I leave the sum of five hundred thousand dollars to be held in trust for him until he reaches the age of twenty-five years. I name as trustee of said monies, his grandmother, Fiona Wooten Weatherford.’”

  “Wow!” I breathed.

  “There’s more,” Jeremy said. “‘Further, I leave to my said grandson, certain of my personal belongings, to wit, all trophies, souvenirs, photographs, and other memorabilia related to my career in automobile racing and design.’”

  I looked at Biggie. She smiled and squeezed my hand.

  Nobody said much after that as they pushed back their chairs and moved toward the door. Only Josefina raised her voice. “Lunch will be served uno momento. I will bring it into the great room.”

  I was disappointed to see Hamp and Misty leave by the French doors. Laura slipped out the door and headed down the hall toward her room, and Grace left, saying she had to see to her girls. I followed Biggie and the others to the great room.

  After a lunch of chalupas, which, in case you don’t know, are crispy fried corn tortillas piled high with refried beans, spicy meat, chopped lettuce and tomatoes, guacamole, sour cream, and grated cheese, I wandered outside, leaving the adults sitting around sipping iced tea and discussing the will.

  I found Misty perched on the rail fence watching the fat girls riding in the horse ring. They were all dressed in riding britches with white blouses. They had black helmets on their heads. Grace was standing in the middle, barking orders.

  “Stacie, keep that back straight…. Melanie, you’re forgetting to post!” I saw Stacie shoot Grace the bird when she wasn’t looking. I looked at Misty, who had seen it too, and was grinning.

  She cocked her head at me. “I hear you’re going to be rich.”

  “What? Oh, you mean the will. I guess so— someday. Biggie says I can’t spend any of the money until I’m grown unless she decides to let me.” I made a face. “That’ll be the day. Biggie’s tighter than the bark on a hickory nut tree. She says if we invest the money, I’ll have a small fortune by the time I go off to college. I reckon your daddy’s gonna be rich, too.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. A hundred thousand is not so much. Daddy says he may be able to buy a nice piece of land with it though. Maybe start up a vet business. He doesn’t think Laura and Grace will be able to keep us on here.”

  My heart sank. “Does that mean you’ll be moving away?”

  She put her hand on my arm and looked straight into my eyes. “I hope not, J.R. Not after we’ve just met.”

  I f
elt the heat running up my neck and turning my face red. “Would you really be sorry?”

  “Of course I would. Uh-oh, Grace is letting the girls ride outside the ring.” She pointed to where Grace had lowered the rail and was guiding the girls on their horses toward the road we had taken to the clearing.

  Suddenly I heard the pounding of hooves and Laura came streaking by on a black horse, her hair loose and flowing behind her. Her face was as white as a sheet, and she was clinging to the horse’s neck while the reins, which had slipped from her hand, hung free.

  “Oh, look, she’s on Midnight. He’s wild! Daddy!” Misty scrambled down from the fence and raced toward the barn. I sat frozen. The scene seemed to be taking place in slow motion, as the black horse galloped straight toward a dry creek that cut through the pasture.

  Biggie and the others came running down the hill toward us. I watched as Abner grabbed a lasso from the fence and pounded off in the direction the horse had taken with Rosebud panting behind. The horse slowed at the dry creek, giving Abner a chance to raise the lasso and send it spiraling toward the horse’s head. It hesitated over his head then fell short, barely grazing the horse’s ears before it dropped to the ground. We all watched helplessly as the horse jumped the creek and raced toward the woods. Rosebud and Abner headed back to the barn.

  Grace had fainted dead away and lay on the ground, surrounded by the girls who had scrambled off their horses where she fell and were all crying and talking a mile a minute. All but one, who sat on her horse like a stone, watching.

  Babe watched the men going toward the barn. “What are those fools doing? She’s getting away!”

  “Going to saddle horses,” Biggie said. “They’ll never catch her on foot.”

  Suddenly I heard an earsplitting scream, and someone yelled, “Mother!” Then Stacie turned her horse’s head, gave him a kick, and galloped off in the direction Laura had taken. Just as it came to the edge of the woods, Laura’s horse reared, and she tumbled to the ground. Stacie slid off her horse and fell on top of Laura, howling like an animal.

  Biggie turned to Babe. “Go up to the house and call 911. Hurry!” Then she started across the rutty field toward Laura and Stacie. Rosebud and Abner, now mounted on horses, reached them first and pulled Stacie to her feet. Laura lay, still as death, with a gash across her forehead that bled a red river down her bone white face. Her legs stuck out at an angle that could only mean both were broken. Stacie sank to the ground and sat cross-legged, like a tear-stained Buddha, still making that ungodly sound.

  19

  You should’ve been there, Willie Mae, she was broken up awful bad. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if she isn’t dead by now. Blood was running down all over from a big old cut on her head, and she was skint up like you wouldn’t believe.”

  Willie Mae set a pan of potatoes and a knife next to me. “Peel these while you talk,” she said.

  I picked up the knife and commenced peeling the potatoes. “Where you want me to put the peelings?”

  “Get you a sack out of the pantry. Where’d the ambulance take her?”

  “To the hospital, of course.” I went and grabbed a grocery sack out of the pile in the pantry and set it on the floor at my feet to catch the potato peels. “Willie Mae, you ought to know that.”

  “Don’t be smart. I mean did they take her here or over to Tyler?”

  “Here, I guess. Biggie and Rosebud are there now.”

  “No, I ain’t,” Rosebud said, coming in the back door. “Miss Biggie sent me home and said she’d call when she’s ready for me to fetch her. Is this coffee fresh?”

  Willie Mae nodded, and he poured himself a cup and sat down at the table.

  “How’s the lady doin’?” Willie Mae asked.

  “Not well,” Rosebud said. “She won’t wake up. And she’s got a whole bunch of broken bones. They’re afraid to try to set them on account of the anesthetic, doncha know, her bein’ in a coma and all. Then that there Grace Higgins is going around getting in everybody’s way and telling the doctors what to do.”

  “Well, I don’t see why Biggie has to stay,” I grumbled.

  “Sounds to me like they needs somebody what gots some sense out there.” Willie Mae peered into the refrigerator. “I need some butter to go in these potatoes.”

  “I’ll go,” I said, shoving the pot full of potatoes toward Rosebud, “if Rosebud will finish peeling.”

  “You all heart,” Rosebud said, picking up the knife and plucking a potato out of the pot.

  I jumped on my bike and headed downtown to the Piggly Wiggly, where I picked up a pound of butter for Willie Mae. On the way back, I happened to pass the Owl Café. Sitting inside at the big round table in the middle of the room was Butch, eating a big piece of apple pie and talking with Miss Julia, Norman Thripp, and Mr. Populus, who owns the café. The pie looked awfully good, so I decided to join them.

  “Hey, J.R.,” Butch said, talking around a mouthful of pie. “Hey,” I said, taking a seat at the table. “What kind of pie you got today?” I asked Mr. Populus.

  “Chocolate, cherry, lemon, opple, and peenopple,” Mr. Populus said. Being Greek, Mr. Populus doesn’t speak English too well.

  “I’ll have chocolate,” I said, “and a Big Red.”

  Butch and Miss Julia looked at each other and made faces.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Just doesn’t sound very good,” Butch said. “What’s Biggie up to?”

  “She’s at the hospital.” I watched as Mr. Populus set my pie and drink in front of me, then I took a bite.

  Norman Thripp, who is as long and thin as a mashed snake, looked at me with his ball-bearing eyes. “How come she’s at the hospital? She sick?”

  “Uh-uh.” I took a swig of my Big Red and remembered to wipe my chin with my napkin.

  “Oh, Lordy,” Butch said. “Has something happened to Rosebud— or Willie Mae?”

  “Uh-uh. Biggie’s out there seeing about Miz Laura Barnwell, who fell off a horse and is pretty near dead. It happened right after they read my granddaddy’s will, which said I’m going to get five hundred thousand dollars.” I took another bite of pie.

  “My soul.” Miss Julia took her little notebook out of her handbag. “Tell me the facts, J.R.”

  I told her everything I could remember, not leaving out the part about Stacie acting like a crazy person. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she wasn’t in the hospital, too. More than likely wrapped up in a strait jacket.”

  “And he didn’t leave his own daughter any money?” Norman Thripp said. “That don’t seem right.”

  “Well, he did leave her a big, huge diamond ring,” I said.

  “I’d sure like to see that,” Butch said.

  Just then the front door darkened, and Rosebud strode in. He pointed to me.

  “Oops,” I picked up my sack of butter. “I got to go.” I dropped some money on the table and followed Rosebud outside to the sidewalk.

  “You better get to the house fast,” he said. “Miss Biggie’s done home, and Willie Mae’s ready for her butter.”

  When I got to the house, the table was set in the dining room. I went straight to the kitchen and saw that Willie Mae had made chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, butterbeans, and hot biscuits.

  “How come we’re not eating in here?” I asked, handing Willie Mae the butter.

  “Miss Biggie’s invited that Ranger Upchurch for supper,” she said. “You go get washed up.”

  I went up the stairs and found Biggie sitting at her dressing table combing her hair. I plopped down on her bed and waited for her to say something.

  “Where have you been?” she asked.

  “Downtown,” I said. “Willie Mae sent me on an errand. How’s Laura? Is she dead?”

  “No, she’s not dead— not yet anyway. She’s in bad shape, J.R.”

  “What about Stacie? I was tellin’ ‘um down at the café. I said I bet they had her tied up in a strait jacket by now. That girl’s not right, Biggie.” />
  “I agree.” Biggie opened a bottle of hand lotion and poured a little in her palm. “Only she’s not in the hospital”— she rubbed her hands together—“she’s run away.” Just then the doorbell rang. Biggie stood up. “That must be Red. Go get washed up as fast as you can. Supper’s about ready.”

  Boy, can that ranger eat. I ate two big slabs of chicken fried steak with mashed potatoes, gravy, and two biscuits. But he ate three and then piled on another helping of potatoes and beans for good measure.

  “My, oh my, I like to see a man with an appetite,” Biggie said, passing around the biscuits. “But don’t forget to save room for pie. We’ll have that in the parlor with our coffee.”

  Biggie had roses in her cheeks, and I noticed she’d powdered her nose and put on a little pink lipstick.

  For some reason I was already full of pie, so I sat and watched Booger and Bingo while the others had their dessert. Bingo was taking a nap in front of the gas logs. He wouldn’t have been sleeping so good if he’d known Booger was stalking him. Booger walked into the room, sniffed Bingo’s tail, and went and crouched under the coffee table shaking his behind. The cat sprang. Bingo yelped as Booger’s claws sank into his ears; and before you could blink, he took off after Booger, who streaked out of the room with his ears back.

  Biggie shook her head. “J.R., go put those two outside.”

  I caught both animals and shoved them out the back door. When I got back the ranger had opened a file and he and Biggie were looking at the papers in it. “So, Biggie, as you can see by the ballistics report, the bullet that killed Rex and the one that grazed Jeremy Polk came from the gun Stacie had, not Rex’s gun.”

  “How?” I asked. “I mean that gun never left the study.”

  “That’s right.” Biggie looked at the papers. “Laura had it in her hand. We all saw.”

  “And they never left the room,” I said. “We were all outside the study door.”

  “What about fingerprints?” Biggie asked.

  “Just what you’d expect,” Ranger Upchurch said. “Stacie’s and Laura’s only. Rex’s gun had his prints along with Abner’s. Abner says he cleaned the gun for Rex just last week.”