Free Divas and Dead Rebels by Virginia Brown

“I’m calling Jackson Lee, that’s what I’m going to do. He’ll take care of this.”
    “Stop,” I said, “and wait just a minute. Do we really want to involve him in this situation? As an attorney, he’ll be honor bound to report it to the authorities, or insist that you do. I’m not sure that’s the best thing at this point.”
    Rayna agreed with me. “Let’s go ask Rob what to do, Bitty. He might have a reasonable solution to suggest.”
    Still digging in her tote, Bitty slowed down the frantic search for her cell phone long enough to realize it was safely tucked into the neat little pocket just for cell phones. Chanel does convenient things like that for their customers. Those who can afford to drop a couple thousand on a purse, anyway.
    “I don’t know if we should,” she said. “Rob may feel the same way Jackson Lee would feel. Oh my . . . what if the killer thinks my boys know who he is and goes after them? ” She looked suddenly frantic, and her fingers dug into the soft leather purse like cat claws.
    I put my hand over hers where it still clutched the top of her purse. “Calm down, sugar. That’s very doubtful. The killer probably just chose their room at random.”
    “Do you really think so?”
    She sounded so hopeful I had to say yes. “Of course, honey. It was just chance that the professor was left in their room. Once the police find the killer, it will be just fine, you know it will.”
    When we both turned toward Rayna, she had her head tilted to one side and a skeptical expression on her face. “Maybe we need to get some objective opinions.”
    I knew what she meant.
    “Okay,” I said, “I’ll call Cady Lee and Deelight, you go ahead and call Gaynelle and Cindy. Bitty, you call Sandra and Marcy. I’ll stop by the lingerie shop and tell Carolann and Rose. Where should we meet?”
    “My house, of course,” said Bitty. “Rob will be too nosy if we have an emergency meeting at Rayna’s, and I’m afraid Aunt Anna and Uncle Eddie will hear us if we have it at your house, Trinket. Say, in three hours? That should give everyone enough time to be free.”
    “Got it,” said Rayna. “Five o’clock your house, Bitty. Don’t bother about food or drinks. I’ll tell everyone to bring something.”
    Bitty nodded. “That gives me enough time to get over to Luann Carey’s house for Chen Ling, then get back home. We need to figure out a strategy.”
    “What we need,” I said bluntly, “is to figure out how to put the body back where it was originally and turn back the hands of time.”
    I swear, when Bitty looked at me, I think she was actually trying to figure out how to do that.

Chapter 5
    Divas come in all sizes and all stages of life. Our youngest Diva is Marcy Porter, who at thirty just had her third child this summer. Cindy Nelson is only a couple years older than Marcy and lives with her husband and several kids in Snow Lake, about fifteen miles east of Holly Springs. Sandra Dobson is in her early thirties, a registered nurse, and lives between Snow Lake and Holly Springs. Gaynelle Bishop is currently our oldest Diva; she’s a retired school teacher in her sixties and lives in a cute bungalow a block away from Bitty. Cady Lee Forsythe, whom I’ve known since grade school, is now married to Brett Kincade, whose family owns a chain of department stores. I still call her Cady Lee Forsythe most of the time. It’s hard to break old habits. Bitty Hollandale is my age—that is to say, we are ageless ladies in our very, very early fifties. Okay, fifty-two. Don’t ask Bitty her age, though. She still claims she’s “nearly fifty” and justifies that white lie by pointing out that two years over the fifty mark is just as close to fifty as two years under the mark. Arguing with her logic is a futile thing, so don’t bother.
    I stopped by Silk Promises, the real name of Carolann Barnett’s lingerie shop, though the locals all just refer to it as Carolann’s. She and Rose