Iced Chiffon by Duffy Brown Read Free Book Online Page B

the same. The other side of family values? “It’s my understanding that Janelle Claiborne is to be transported back to Atlanta and buried there. That’s what her mamma wanted. That’s where she’s from, you know.”
    I did know, but before I could ask why he went to see Hollis and why he didn’t care for Cupcake, a cute young woman nearly as tall as Franklin came up beside him. She had long auburn hair pulled back in a gold clip. “That Janelle person should have stayed in Atlanta for all our sakes,” she said in an angry voice.
    “Because she surely would have been safer there,” Franklin added in a rush, and then gave the girl a warning glance.Not that anyone would have noticed the glance unless looking for something. I was looking for anything. “We are all mighty upset over this tragedy here in our fair city. Our hearts go out to Janelle Claiborne’s family and friends.” Franklin sounded like a rehearsed news bite from a government office. He moved to the next person in line, cutting me off completely and giving me nowhere near ten bucks’ worth of information.
    I found KiKi next to a street vendor, the side of his van propped open to display chips, sodas, and meat of questionable origin. KiKi eyed a hot dog getting decked out for consumption by a man in a straw hat wearing a “WWJD” T–shirt. What Jesus would probably do is not eat here. “Find anything out?” KiKi asked.
    “That if food causes nightmares, you’re doomed,” I whispered then added in a normal voice, “Did you order one for me?”
    “You criticized my parking. I should let you starve.”
    “Do you know who the gal is beside Franklin? I don’t think she cared much for Cupcake.”
    “That there is Sissy Collins,” the vendor volunteered as he added a squirt of mustard to KiKi’s hot dog creation, then mine, and sprinkled on onions. Street meat, come to mamma! “She’s the church deacon, and I thought she had a real liking for cupcakes, especially chocolate ones. She ate two at our last covered dish. My wife and I go to the reverend’s church, you see.” The vendor gave me a look that suggested if I kept holy the Sabbath I’d know about these things.
    Auntie KiKi and I took our dogs and found an empty bench by the monument to Nathanael Greene. That Mr.Greene had his very own square over on Houston but his monument here in Johnson Square was just one of the little mysteries of life in Savannah. We watched families make their way to the stage while we scarfed hot dogs and licked bits of relish from our fingers. “You’re awfully quiet,” I said to KiKi, who was never quiet.
    “Just look up on that stage and tell me what you see.”
    “My ten bucks gone forever, and I want it back.”
    “It’s just like Cher says, ‘Women are the real architects of our society.’ We have the cute little deacon, the handsome minister, and mamma bear and her cubs gone home. It’s the minister and the deacon who don’t like Cupcake, not the minister and the wife, or the minister and the organ player, or the Sunday school teacher or the church usher.”
    I had a bad feeling where this was going and made the sign of the cross so God wouldn’t strike us dead for thinking bad things about a minister. Women of the South died peacefully in their sleep in their best jammies, not in a park chowing down on a hot dog and pointing accusatory fingers at men of the cloth.
    “Franklin’s a man, and I’ve been watching couples dance around my parlor for thirty-five years now. Some want to look good at the country-club dance and that’s it; others go home and do the rumba, if you get my drift. Those two up there on that stage are all about the rumba.”
    I watched the body language as we polished off our dogs. Those two were too close, too touchy, too many glances. “Do you think anyone else suspects?”
    “No one else is looking.”
    “We need to go home.” I pulled KiKi to her feet. “We’re both going to fall asleep on this bench and get