“How was Vera dressed? The article in the paper didn’t say anything about it, and they haven’t run any photos from the gala yet.”

“She came as Scarlett O’Hara, and her husband was Rhett Butler.”

Melba snorted with laughter. “You have got to be kidding me. Vera Cassity as Scarlett O’Hara? That must have been a sight.”

I winced, thinking of Vera’s corpse on the stairwell, with that hoop skirt billowing up, stuck in place. I wasn’t going to share that detail with Melba, however.

“Sorry.” Melba looked almost contrite. “I know it’s terrible of me to make fun of her like that, but a woman her age dressing like that. She should have gone as Scarlett’s grandmother, Lord have mercy. She was seventy-five at least.”

That surprised me. “I thought she was about sixty. She sure didn’t look seventy-five.”

“Well, she was.” Melba’s tone brooked no argument. She was invariably right about these things. “Don’t forget, honey, she had the money for plastic surgery. She’d had everything that sagged tucked up so many times it’s a wonder her toes weren’t on top of her knees.”

“Then her husband must have had surgery, too, because he doesn’t look much more than sixty himself.”

“That’s because he’s only about ten years older than you and me, honey.” Melba shook her head at my obvious denseness. “Vera was at least a dozen years older than Morty. I thought you knew that.”

“I had no idea,” I said. “Why did he marry a woman that much older?”

“Money.”

“I thought Vera came from a poor family.” This wasn’t adding up.

“She did,” Melba said. “Dirt-poor. But Vera’s mama inherited some money from some old aunt in Georgia, or maybe it was Florida, around the time Vera was almost thirty. Then her mama died and left it all to Vera. Morty came calling soon after, and he used Vera’s money to get started in business.”

“He couldn’t have been more than eighteen or nineteen at that point.”

“He wasn’t,” Melba said. “But they got married, and within ten years Morty had three car dealerships. He’s got seven now, I think. Loaded, and it all started with Vera’s mama’s money.”

Diesel, tired of being ignored, crawled into Melba’s lap, and she laughed. “Sweetie, I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you.” She loved on him as she continued, “I got you sidetracked, Charlie. Go on, tell me the rest of it.”

I spent another fifteen minutes talking, until I got to the point where I found Azalea and Vera’s body in the stairwell.

“That’s the end of it,” I said, my throat dry. “After that we all had to wait to talk to the sheriff, and then we were able to get home.”

Melba’s eyes narrowed. “I know you’re leaving out a lot. You can’t fool me.”

“I’ve told you all I can,” I said. “I’ll have to leave it at that, but I promise to tell you, as soon as I am able, anything else that I might have left out. Deal?”