Bones on the Bayou: A Sarah Booth Delaney Mystery Short Story by Carolyn Haines

Bones on the Bayou
    A Sarah Booth Delaney Mississipi Delta short mystery
    By
     
    Carolyn Haines
     
     
     
    Jealousy never shows a pretty face, and Christmas doesn’t make this less true. It was the green-eyed monster that prodded me onto a bridge over Silver Bayou in Shaw, Mississippi, on a December night as crisp and clear as anything Montana might offer. It felt like the frozen north—with a wind gusting at twenty miles per hour.
    I burrowed deeper into the collar of my coat and jammed my gloved hands into my pockets.  Beside me, my partner in Delaney Detective Agency, Tinkie Bellcase Richmond, tried not to shiver. She pulled a monogramed flask from her coat pocket and knocked back a jolt of Grey Goose, unconcerned that the crowd lining the bridge saw her. Such conduct usually fell at my feet, not Tinkie’s. She was a lady. I had no ambitions to hold that title.
    “Alcohol won’t warm you up,” I reminded her. “It a vasodilator, so ultimately it makes you colder.” Talk about a role reversal, Tinkie was normally the voice of reason and I was the wild hare.
    She took another swig.
    Tinkie and her husband Oscar had assumed the roles of hormonal teenagers. All because of Enzo Aceto, a member of ‘the Italian delegation’—a group of Venice businessmen and women who were spending the Christmas holidays in the Mississippi Delta to explore a potential investment deal that could be an economic boon to the area.
    “Oscar behaved like a fool.” Tinkie tipped the flask again.
    “Did you speak with him today?” She’d spent last night with me, and most of the day at Dahlia House, except for a bit of shopping and an appointment at the hair salon.
    “He didn’t call me and I am not about to call him.”
    I had to snap her out of her funk. “Oscar is insecure. So what? It happens. And you were flirting with Enzo.” The whole peccadillo was a tempest in a teapot. Tinkie always flirted. As queen bee Daddy’s Girl, Tinkie was born and bred to string men behind her like she was the sexy pied piper and they were besotted rats. Oscar most often took pride in her accomplished skills. It had to be the pressures of the holiday season that had put my normally bubbly partner and her husband on edge.
    It didn’t help that with Enzo, Tinkie had found a male counterpart. Dark, polished, virtually sex on a stick, Enzo zeroed in on Tinkie and they had flamed the hallowed halls of The Club in Zinnia with their suggestive repartee and innuendos. It had been like watching a verbal tango.
    We’d all enjoyed the show as the two of them matched swords. Everyone, except Tinkie’s husband, had been greatly amused by the dance of coquetry. All of the state dignitaries in attendance, the politicians, the business owners, and those with wealth and power had applauded and encouraged the show.
    End result: Tinkie and Oscar had a very public fight and Tinkie stormed out of The Club and came to Dahlia House where she’d spent the night. And now refused to go home to Hilltop.
    If Oscar meant to woo her home, I’d seen no signs of it.
    “You hurt Oscar’s pride. You’re an accomplished male manipulator. You know better!” The schoolmarm role did not comfortably fit me, but someone had to take action.
    “Oscar needs to grow up. Enzo is a master of the tease, and I enjoyed sparring with him. That’s it. He’s a handsome man and I’m sure he’ll cut a swath through the available Delta female population. Not my concern.”
    I nudged Tinkie. “I know that. So does Oscar when he stops letting jealousy rule his emotions. You should be flattered your husband cares enough to get jealous.”
    In the light from the bridge, I saw Tinkie’s lips purse. “He should have come to this ceremony with me. We planned it weeks ago as a romantic evening. Not to mention the Zinnia National Bank stands to gain a lot of business if the Italians decide to invest in Shaw. My daddy is not going to be happy with Oscar.”
    Tinkie’s dad, Avery Bellcase,