Excerpt from PURSES AND POISON

I’d met Evelyn Croft last fall when I’d started working at Holt’s. She was a department manager. We’re nothing alike. Evelyn was 40ish, neat, trim, and could have worked as a docent giving tours in one of those old Southern mansions. And I’m, well, I’m me.

But we’re connected in some weird – and not so weird – ways.

Like today. I need retail therapy – it’s the only way I can possibly get over what happened yesterday – and only Evelyn can help me with that.

That’s because Evelyn has eighty-grand of my money tucked away in her savings account.

I pulled up to the curb in front of her house. You wouldn’t be surprised to see Evelyn outside in a big hat and gardening gloves, cutting flowers from her garden – if she weren’t so afraid to leave her house these days.

She never talked about Holt’s. Not after what happened last fall. If she mentioned it at all, she simply referred to it as “the incident” caused by “that certain someone.” Which was great with me, especially today, because Holt’s was the very last thing I wanted to be reminded of.

As I walked toward the front door I saw the blinds on the living room window move slightly. Evelyn was watching me. I rang the bell.

“It’s me,” I called. I know the drill.

The security system beeped. Chains rattled. Locks turned. A lot of precautions for this quiet neighborhood of family homes.

The door opened a little and Evelyn’s face appeared. Her gaze darted back and forth.

“It’s just me,” I said, trying to keep things light. “Just like I said on the phone.”

I’d called ahead. Everyone had to call ahead.

She gave me a hesitant smile, then opened the door. I stepped inside.

Evelyn had on a mauve sweatshirt with a ruffle collar, denim jeans that she’d ironed, and white ankle socks. Her hair was perfect.

She slammed the door behind me, and made quick work of the chains, locks and security system.

“Well, Haley.” Evelyn drew in a big breath and twisted her fingers together. “It’s good to see you.”

If it had been anyone else, I would have offered a big hug. But not with Evelyn.

“Go have a seat. I’ll be right there,” Evelyn said, and disappeared into the kitchen.

I took my usual seat on the sofa in the living room. The place looked like a florist had exploded in here. Floral slip-covers in pink, mint green and white; floral arrangements; floral art work; floral throw pillows she’d embroidered herself. Somehow, it worked in Evelyn’s home.

A moment later she came into the living room carrying a tray with a tea service and a plate of cookies, and set it on the coffee table.

“How are your classes?” Evelyn asked. She handed me a tea cup and took the chair next to the window.

“We’re studying the nervous system in health,” I said.

We were really studying STDs, but since I wasn’t sure Evelyn had ever had sex I didn’t think it was a topic of conversation she could run with.

I ate one of the cookies. Evelyn always serves the same kind. Dry, brittle, tasteless. Just once I wish she’d bust out a package of Oreos. I could do without the tea, too, but I don’t see her cracking open a Corona, even with chilled mugs.

“I heard what happened yesterday at Holt’s,” Evelyn said softly. I jumped, nearly spilling my tea. What? Evelyn was talking about Holt’s? I didn’t want to be reminded of what happened yesterday. That’s why I had come here today.

“That poor girl dying in the store like that.” Evelyn shook her head sadly. “It was all over the news last night – every channel.”

“Well, you know, I think the news people really made too much of it,” I said. “Evelyn, there was something I wanted to talk to you about while I’m –“

“And the Internet. My goodness, bloggers are going crazy. Another beauty queen, gone. And, of course, that brought up the story of that darling little girl in Colorado.”

I had to distract her. I lifted my cup. “This is great tea.”

“And what about that girl they’re calling the Missing Server?” Evelyn asked.

“Are there any more cookies?” I asked.

“They still haven’t found her. After searching the entire store for hours.”

“Did I mention that I got an “A” on my last English paper?”

“And now the store is closed again today,” Evelyn went on. “It must be an absolute mess in there. I hate to think of how hard all the employees are going to have to work to get it presentable.”

“It was a really hard paper, too.”

“Jeanette must be beside herself, thinking of the lost income,” Evelyn said. “This is a huge financial blow to the entire Holt’s chain.”

“I have to go now.” I popped off the couch and headed for the door.

I simply could not stay here and listen to another word about what happened yesterday. The whole thing had turned into a nightmare – a complete nightmare. Even though anyone in my position would have done the same thing.

“You’re leaving?” Evelyn asked, sounding disappointed.

“I have to get to the store. Help with the clean up,” I said.

“But when you phoned, you said there was something you wanted to talk to me about,” Evelyn said, putting her tea cup aside.

Oh, yeah. That.

I’d rehearsed my speech on the drive over, planned how I would present my case. And now, after being reminded of yesterday’s fiasco, I needed a massive dose of retail therapy more than ever.

“What I really need is a new evening bag,” I said. “I found one that’s perfect.“

Evelyn shook her head and said, “I don’t think so.”

I’d expected some resistance, so I said, “It’s a Judith Lieber.”

“A what?”

Oh my God. How can someone not know what a Judith Lieber bag was? Only the world’s most glamorous, gorgeous evening bags ever. They transcended fashion. They’re art. Sort of.

“It has Austrian crystals,” I said – actually, I think I moaned.

“Sounds expensive.”

“And a satin lining,” I said.

Evelyn shook her head. “No, no.”

“It comes with a gorgeous box.” I’m whining now.

“Out of the question.”

“And a keepsake bag!”

“No!” Evelyn said.

She picks now, of all times, to be assertive?

“I’m just following your instructions, Haley.”

I hate it when other people are right.

When I’d gotten that big hunk of money last fall I’d paid for my college classes and books, zeroed out my credit cards, and paid my rent and car payment ahead a few months. I’d bought some essentials, too, like a gorgeous Louis Vuitton tote, and the fabulous Coach handbag, wallet, and cosmetic bag combo set I’d had my eye on.

And there were so many more things I could have bought.

I know me. I knew that all that money could disappear if I didn’t do something drastic. Putting it in a savings account, or an IRA, or a mutual fund, or something boring like that was a possibility. But I knew I would have suffered the financial penalty and taken it out. So that left putting it in the safekeeping of a friend or family member.

So that left one person I could turn to. Evelyn. She was trustworthy and honest. I’d made her promise not to give me any funds unless it was for something like medical bills, rent, or school. It had all made perfect sense.

Until I spotted that Judith Lieber bag.

“Okay, okay,” I said, shaking off my disappointment. “Two thousand dollars for an evening –“

“Two thousand dollars?” Evelyn exclaimed.

“It’s a very reasonable price,” I explained. “I really have to go.”

“Oh, well, of course. I was just hoping … well, that is … I wondered if you’d mind ….” She moved to the blinds and pulled them open a quarter inch. “My neighbor. I think something’s wrong.”

“You want me to go over there and check on them?” I asked.

“No! Oh, no!” Evelyn shook her head. “It’s just that, well, I’ve known Cecil for about twenty years, ever since I’ve lived here. His wife died a few years ago. A traffic accident. Very sad. And now Cecil has a new girlfriend.”

“What’s the problem?”

Evelyn twisted her fingers together. “I think the new girlfriend killed him.”