"Hi, Sylvia," Mahogany said, offering her hand to the other woman.
Sylvia started at Mahogany's hand but didn't take it.
"All right then." Mahogany lowered her hand. "How did you get involved with this whole End Halloween endeavor?" Mahogany made a sweeping motion with her hand to the crowd in Nancy's backyard.
Sylvia pressed the clipboard to her chest and folded her arms over it as if it were a child in need of protection. "Nancy is the mastermind behind the project. Her son goes to the local high school, but she wanted to get him into the private school instead, but the administration denied his application."
"Hippolyte is a private girls' school," Mahogany said. Hippolyte's School for Girls had been a fixture in Pandemonium since the town's inception. Begun and run by a group of displaced Amazons, Hippolyte boasted an outstanding equestrian program, and their archery coaches had churned out more Olympic medalists than any other.
"It's discrimination," Sylvia said, blinking rapidly.
"It is, though?" Mahogany asked. "There has to be more to this End Halloween thing than her son getting rejected from the girl's boarding school."
Sylvia's gaze lingered on Mahogany's pink kinky hair. "Of course, there's more to it. His rejection from Hippolyte was the breaking point."
"So, where were you when the murder went down the other night?" Mahogany asked. Behind her, Guy folded his arm over his chest and narrowed his gaze at Sylvia.
"You're joking?" She shook her head when it was clear Mahogany was severe. "I was with Nancy planning this meeting," Sylvia said, and while her voice was confident, she blushed from the collar of her lavender blouse to the roots of her bottle red hair.
Mahogany smirked. "If I were to go over and ask Nancy where you were, she would corroborate your story?"
"Of course, she would." Sylvia nearly spat the words.
"All right," Mahogany said and started over to Nancy, who was downing another glass of chardonnay next to her favorite server.
"Wait," Sylvia said, her eyes wide. A thin film of sweat beaded her upper lip.
"Got her," Guy said.
Mahogany turned back to Sylvia. An eyebrow raised inquisitively.
"I wasn't with her. I was with." Sylvia peered around to make sure no one was listening to their conversation. "Brian O'Malley."
"So you were with the town cobbler?" Mahogany said, her eyebrow arching high on her forehead.
"Keep your voice down." She glanced around like a plumber sifting through a panty drawer. "We were in a private room at Tipsy O'Lush's getting dinner."
"Let me get this straight," Mahogany said. "You were out with the town cobbler, a local, having dinner at Tipsy O'Lush's in a private room."
Sylvia nodded, her blush darkening. "Nancy would kick me off the End Halloween Committee if she knew."
"If I knew what?" Nancy said. Her tidy bun had come loose. She swayed on her long, thin legs from what Mahogany concluded was chardonnay poisoning.
The blush drained from Sylvia's neck and cheeks as if she was the victim of a vampire attack. "Oh, um, I, uh," Sylvia stammered.
Nancy placed her hands on her hips and glared at Sylvia. The remainder of her wine spilled into the grass. "I'm waiting."
Sylvia's shoulders slumped, and she closed her eyes. "I've been seeing Brian O'Malley."
Nancy recoiled as if slapped. "The cobbler, again? You told me you were finished with him." The words dripped from Nancy's lips like venom off a cobra's fangs. "First, Jeff is a no-show, and then you betray me."
Sylvia opened her eyes and met Nancy's gaze. The shorter woman's eyes brimmed with tears. "I love him. He's just so beautiful. Those muscles. His piercing blue eyes. The red hair. He's my kryptonite." Sylvia prised her gaze from Nancy's enraged glare. It searched the yard briefly before landing on the handsome buff server Nancy had drooled over.
Nancy turned to follow Sylvia's gaze and sputtered, "How dare you."
From his station at the grill, Nancy's husband also followed Sylvia's eye line. His meek, plastic face flushing at the realization of what Sylvia implied.
"You're off the committee! How could I have ever trusted you?" Nancy collapsed in a nearby lawn chair and began to sob.
Tony appeared and grabbed Mahogany's hand, breaking her trance over the slow-motion drunk suburban white woman train wreck occurring before her eyes.
She smiled and allowed him to lead her from the party.
"That was bananas," Evelina said. In her arms, she held a bowl half-filled with potato chips. A white paper plate was balanced atop, containing three steaming veggie burgers, complete with buns, and fixing.
"No, that's bananas," Mahogany said, pointing to the stolen food in Evelina's arms.
Evelina puffed up her chest. "I'll have you know this is not only our lunch, but it allowed me to interview the hot-stuff server."
"I wondered where you'd gone. What did the server say?" Tony asked.
"Well, his name is Hank Williams," Evelina began.
"Like Hank Williams, the country singer?" Mahogany interjected.
"His mom's a big fan," Evelina said. "He just graduated from high school, and he's doing yard work around the neighborhood to save for spending money this fall when he goes off to college in Eugene."
"Just graduated high school?" A look of disgust twisted Mahogany's features. Evelina nodded, her expression mimicking Mahogany's.
"Gross," Tony said. "Nancy's old enough to be his mom."
"Oh, that's not the half of it. Nancy pays him extra if he works with his shirt off," Evelina added, taking a large bite from one of the burgers.
Mahogany and Tony both grimaced.
"Apparently, Nancy has a slew of newly graduated high school boys working for her. Some of which would do almost anything to make her happy."
"Like murder?" Mahogany said, raising an eyebrow.
"Perhaps. There was one boy, in particular, Nancy keeps on the down-low who's special to her," Evelina took another bite of her burger.
"Who?" Tony asked.
"Hank wasn't sure."
"It's a good lead," Tony said. "Let's head back to my place to update the murder board, check out the letters, and eat before it gets cold."
"That's stealing," Mahogany said, nodding to the bowl as they headed to their respective vehicles.
"I prefer unauthorized borrowing, thank you very much," Evelina said. "I doubt they'll miss it."
"We need to confirm Sylvia's story," Mahogany said. "If she was with the cobbler, she's off the suspect list."
"Oh, I love shoe shopping," Evelina said. "Nancy mentioned she was with her husband watching movies, but when I asked her husband what he was doing the night of the murders, he said he and his son were home alone. No wife."
"She was probably with the hunky server," Tony said. "And what about Jeff. His sister said he'd be here."
"Nancy mentioned he was a no-show. She seemed upset about it." Mahogany said.
"No last name Mahogany. What brings you here on this fine summer day?"
Mahogany turned, startled, and watched as Detective Teresa Sawyer strode over the immaculate sidewalk toward them, her New Balance sneakers muffling her steps.
"Hello, Detective. Just enjoying a bit of barbecue." Inside her chest, Mahogany's heart danced the mambo.
"I just finished chatting with Karrie Samuels, and she mentioned three private detectives came and spoke to her about the murders at the brownstone. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that?" The detective studied them with a keen eye.
Evelina made a squeaking noise in her throat.
"I don't know what you mean?" Mahogany said, silently cursing Evelina for telling Karrie they were PIs.
"She described the three of you as if you were standing in front of her. Quite a feat of mental gymnastics for one who's been pounding liquor for the past few days. You must have made a lasting impression."
Mahogany, Tony, and Evelina stared at the detective but said nothing.
"You wouldn't mind showing me your investigator's license?"
"We're sorry," Evelina blurted, her face the color of beets. "It just came out. It won't happen again."
"You're right. It won't. Now get out of here with what I can only guess is stolen food before I arrest you for criminal impersonation."
_____
A/N: I love Evelina's rogue demeanor. She just doesn't care what anyone thinks. It must be a liberating mindset to live in.
I went and dedicated this chapter to the wonderful jeanaswanson who wrote this book that is snorting milk out your nose funny. Fag Hag is about love unrequited, friendship, cattiness, and drinking. What more can you ask for?