Read Becklaw's Murder Mystery Tour (Jo Anderson Series) Online
Authors: Dane McCaslin
With Miss Bea leading the way, we three marched out to the parking lot. I actually did feel quite militant, although I suspected we simply looked like three nutty women off to rein in a recalcitrant husband or boyfriend. Oh, well, I sighed inwardly. No one from Piney Woods could see me and tell my mom that I was getting more and more like Crazy Great-Aunt Opal by the day. That was, at least, some relief.
It was also the last relief I was to have for some time after that.
To our surprise, the parking lot was alight with the flashing blues and reds of police and emergency vehicles. I heard Miss Bea moan, ‘Not my car, oh please, not my beautiful car!’ I almost laughed aloud.
A ribbon of yellow crime scene tape fluttered in the evening breeze and I shivered in my thin dress. I stole a glance at Leslie, who had scooped up a jacket just as we left the dressing room. Smart move on her part, I acknowledged. It kept her warm and let the men’s eyeballs stay in their heads where they belonged. I would have hated to see Miss Bea go ballistic over some silly men.
I spotted Miss Lucinda standing off to one side of the scene in front of us, a tall man in a police uniform standing near her and writing something down. Oh, dear Lord, I thought with alarm. Miss Lucinda’s gone and bashed in Miss Bea’s precious vehicle!
It would have been much, much better if it had been that silly old car.
I don’t know if I actually noticed Josie first, or if Miss Bea did. All I can recall is that suddenly the two of us were through the yellow tape and staring down in horror at the tiny, twisted body of Josie, her hands flung up above her head as if in flight and a hole in her chest. I prayed that it had been a quick journey.
‘Er … ma’am?’ With a quick look at his paperwork, the officer who had been talking to Miss Lucinda approached us. ‘Are you Beatrice Becklaw of Becklaw’s Murder Mystery Tours?’ Something in his tone alerted me and I stepped forward without thinking; which is another one of my specialties.
‘Yes, this is Miss Bea, and before you ask it, we have never, ever had a real live dead body in one of our performances.’ I could have crawled under a rock as soon as the words left my mouth. “A real live dead body”? Really, Jo?
His eyes flashed in my direction briefly, and thankfully I saw a glint of amusement there. ‘Ma’am, I just need to speak with Beatrice, with Miss Bea here, so if you’ll wait over there by’– his hand gestured toward Miss Lucinda, who was staring at poor Josie with a look of complete sadness on her face.
‘Sure.’ I said hurriedly. I grabbed Leslie by the jacket sleeve and walked over to where Miss Lucinda stood.
‘What in the world?’ I hissed at Miss Lucinda, not wanting to be overheard by the gathering crowd of Nosey Nellies.
She turned her eyes toward me, and I was again struck by the depth of sorrow I saw there.
‘I needed to run out to the car to grab a bag Derek had forgotten, and there she was.’ she said simply, turning back to nod at Josie. ‘I gave her a shake but I could tell she was already gone. Poor little girl.’ The words came out softly, mournfully, and I felt compelled to put my arm around her.
The feelings from earlier came back to me, and I could tell by the way that Leslie was looking at me that she remembered them as well. Great. Now I would not only be known as a crazed psycho who attracts killer animals but also as a psychic, who could predict the future. The Psycho Psychic.
I had to admit it, though; it did have a bit of a ring to it.
‘Jo?’ Leslie was tugging on my sleeve, pulling me back to the present. ‘Miss Lucinda asked you a question.’
‘I’m sorry, Miss Lucinda,’ I said. ‘What did you say?’
‘Where was Beatrice about twenty minutes ago? Was she with you?’ Her eyes bored into mine, her words heavy with meaning. I literally jumped back from her, anger building rapidly.
‘I don’t know what you are implying,’ I spluttered, but Miss Lucinda placed a placating hand on my arm.
‘I’m not implying anything, Jo,’ she said, her voice suddenly gentle. ‘I just don’t want her interrogated unnecessarily. She isn’t a strong person, you know.’
I think that I did know that already, although Miss Bea could fake ‘strong’ better than anyone I had come across.
‘Well,’ I began, turning to look at Leslie. ‘We got here and went to the dressing rooms right away …’ My voice trailed off and I looked at Leslie. ‘Actually,’ I said slowly, ‘I walked around the dining room first, looking at the food and especially at the dessert table. Leslie, you and Miss Bea walked ahead of me, so you two went to the room first.’
It was Leslie’s turn to squirm. ‘Ah, actually, I had to run to the little girls’ room, so Miss Bea went on ahead of me as well.’ She gave a little shrug. ‘I didn’t know something like this was going to happen.’
‘No one did, Leslie. Except for the killer,’ I added hastily. ‘Which I am sure is not Miss Bea, by the way.’ I stared at Miss Lucinda somewhat defiantly, daring her to contradict me.
‘Well, I happen to agree with you, Jo,’ said Miss Lucinda to my surprise. ‘I personally don’t think that Beatrice has a murdering bone in her body.’ Aha! I latched on to that statement
tout de suite,
as the French say.
‘Oh, really, Miss Lucinda?’ I made my voice as sweet as pie. ‘Then she couldn’t have had anything to do with Desmond’s death?’ I had trapped her but good and she knew it.
Miss Lucinda, bless her heart, had the grace to blush. I think it was then that I decided that I liked her almost as much as I liked Miss Bea.
‘All right,’ she said with aplomb. ‘Maybe I was a bit hasty in my estimation of Beatrice.’ She turned around and looked at where said Beatrice was standing. ‘I suppose I wanted to track her down just for the sake of seeing her again.’ She sounded almost wistful.
Man, these Becklaw women were cool customers, I thought admiringly. I, too, turned to look at Miss Bea. Back straight, head high, shoulders back. She truly was a warrior, ready to fight for whoever needed her. I was glad she was in my corner.
‘I think that we should say something to the officer, you know, something that may help Miss Bea out of whatever it is she’s accused of.’
I wish that I had kept my trap shut. Leslie’s eyes were instantly as huge as the proverbial deer in the headlights, and Miss Lucinda gave my arm a sharp jab with a boney finger.
‘We don’t know that she’s being accused of anything, Jo,’ admonished Miss Lucinda. ‘I’d thank you to keep your gob shut and use your brain.’ She began walking back toward the officer and Miss Bea, an air of determination in her step.
I ran to catch up with her, and Leslie hurried to join us.
‘I just couldn’t stay back there with the … you know, by the …’ She gulped, unwilling to bring herself to say the word. Being the soul of kindness that I am, I finished the sentence for her.
‘The body? Well, who would?’ I looked over Miss Lucinda’s shoulder at a distraught Miss Bea.
‘What do you think that officer is saying to her?’ murmured Leslie in my ear.
‘I have not a clue,’ I whispered back. Miss Bea’s head suddenly swiveled, looking straight at us. I groaned. That woman’s hearing was right up there with a bat’s.
I moved closer to Miss Lucinda’s broad back. She had not said anything yet, but I could feel the air around her go still. It was weird, to say the least.
Miss Lucinda was going into attack mode.
‘If my sister has not been charged with anything, officer, I’d thank you to wrap it up and let her get back inside. The poor dearie is in a state of shock.’ She moved forward to place a large arm around Miss Bea’s shoulders.
Actually, it was Leslie and I who were in shock – “My sister?” – “Poor dearie?”– Dear Lord, what was this world coming to?
The officer must have realized his perilous position, facing the Becklaw Wall of Sisterhood. He did what any other red-blooded man would have done: he snapped closed his notebook, took a step back, touched his forehead in something akin to a salute, and wished us all a good evening.
As he walked back to his
compadres
, an awkward silence settled over the four of us like a blanket; oddly enough it was somewhat comforting. We all began to move at once, Leslie and me flanking Miss Lucinda as Miss Bea’s bodyguards. I didn’t mind getting drilled by what felt like sixty pairs of eyes as we made our way back to the safety of the dining hall, but I was danged if I was going to let anyone bother Miss Bea.
The ‘powers that be’ had cleared the dining area, setting it up as a command post for the local police department and the paramedics to work. Miss Bea was definitely suffering from shock, and a young woman in an Emergency Medical Tech’s uniform came over and met us at the door, gently drawing Miss Bea from the protective grasp of Miss Lucinda.
We three stood in silence, watching the bustle around us. Two officers had commandeered a long table and had placed a chair directly across from theirs; I guessed that’s where the suspects would sit.
‘We’ll have to talk to those officers,’ I said out of the corner of my mouth to Leslie and Miss Lucinda. ‘I have no idea what they’ll ask me, though; I haven’t seen Josie since earlier today.’
‘None of us have, Jo,’ said Miss Lucinda, giving me another laser look, a few seconds before sweeping the full beam of her glare around the room. ‘Just what they hope to gain from this nonsense, I’m sure I don’t know. Well, I’m going to get this over with.’ And with that, she marched over to the table, plopping her heft onto one of the chairs.
Pushing back a lock of lavender hair from her forehead, Miss Lucinda looked sternly at the officer across from her. I grinned, feeling slightly sorry for that young man. He was about to unleash the Becklaw Barrage. I hoped he’d had his Wheaties.
Leslie elbowed me in the side. ‘Look!’ she hissed. ‘There’s that guy from the steakhouse, that Scrawny Joe or whatever it is he called himself.’ She pointed unobtrusively with her chin at the rather large individual who filled the open doorway.
‘What’s
he
here for?’ I wondered aloud, watching him walk over to one of the paramedics and say something. He must have asked where someone was, because I saw the EMT look over his shoulder, then point. Skinny Joe nodded briefly and walked away, his bulk following a course of its own.
‘Hey, wait a minute,’ I exclaimed. ‘He’s heading for the dressing rooms, Leslie. Let’s follow him and see what he’s up to.’ I spun on my heels and took off without a backward glance, trusting that Leslie was following me.
Together we walked down the hallway, pausing briefly in front of the women’s dressing room. I put my ear to the door but could hear nothing, so I motioned to Leslie to move on. We turned the corner and saw that the door to the men’s dressing area was ajar. I could hear a murmur from inside and I stopped in my tracks, very nearly sending Leslie over in a heap.
I cut my eyes toward the door, then back at her, putting my finger to my lips. I began moving along the wall
a là
Super Secret Agent, and almost ran right into Joe’s hefty belly. I tilted my head and looked up into his eyes. He did not look happy to see me, not one bit.
‘Ah, hello there, Mr Skinny. Mr Joe.’ What a complete idiot, I thought, my traitor of a flush creeping above the high collar of my ‘school marm’ dress. I felt dumb, but defiantly so. I returned his look, glare for glare.
‘I take it you’re here for a reason?’ Leslie’s quiet voice sounded from behind my right shoulder where she had taken refuge from Skinny Joe. Oh, how brave we can be when hunkered down behind somebody else! I had to admire her pluck, though.
‘I’m here to pick up my nephew. What’s your excuse?’ With his beefy arms folded against a massive chest, Joe looked like an illustration of the Jolly Green Giant, only without the jolly. Or the green. He looked, in a word, annoyed.
‘We,’ – I indicated Leslie with a thumb jabbed in her direction – ‘are here to tell the boys that they’re wanted out front.’ Since this was a flat out lie, I didn’t chance a look in Leslie’s direction. That girl was too truthful for her own good.
I could see Skinny Joe’s mind turning this bit of information over. Thankfully he bought it, and stuck his head back in the door and called out, ‘Andy! Bert! You two get out here. You’re wanted out front.’ He turned to face me, arms still crossed. ‘There. Satisfied?’
‘Yes. Yes, we are. Come on, Jo. We still need to round up Lily.’ Leslie grasped me by the back of my dress and all but hauled me bodily down the passageway.
‘Hey,’ I began, but she tugged me further down the hall before stopping and hissing in my ear, ‘I think he’s in on it!’
‘Who’s in on what?’ I was stymied. I couldn’t think of a rational thing to say, so just stood and stared at her. We could hear the footsteps of Andy and Bert moving at a rapid pace behind us, so we hightailed it into the dining area/police substation and walked over to where Miss Lucinda was still keeping watch over Miss Bea.
Thankfully, Miss Bea’s color was almost normal now, and the faint sheen of sweat that had covered her forehead was gone. Someone had brought her a glass of water and she sat sipping it quietly, not looking at anything in particular. Miss Lucinda’s hands were on Miss Bea’s shoulders, gently patting them.
I think that this qualified as “a cold day in Hades”.
Leslie and I both turned to watch as Andy and Bert, followed by Skinny Joe, stopped just inside the dining area. They looked around in a puzzled manner, their eyes lighting on us.
‘Just follow my lead,’ I said to Leslie from the side of my mouth as I watched the trio stalk in our direction. ‘Hey, there. What’s up?’
‘Whaddya mean, “what’s up”?’ Andy’s arms crossed his chest in a parody of his uncle’s, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘I thought you said that we were wanted by the police.’
‘Wanted by the police? Are you? Have you told them that yet?’ The innocent look on my face could have rivaled Bambi’s. ‘Miss Lucinda, did you know that Andy was wanted by the police when you hired him?’
By this time, Andy was sputtering, he was so mad. How in the world had I thought him good-looking, even for a second, I wondered, as I took in his flaring nostrils and the blotchy redness that now colored his face.
‘You know good and well what I mean, you – you – you out-of-stater! Don’t go putting words in my mouth! Uncle Joe, just what did she tell you?’ He swung around to face his uncle.
Skinny Joe shrugged, the movement causing a ripple to cross his flabby chest. ‘She said you were wanted out front. I told you, you came out here. End of story.’
The ruckus was causing us some unwanted attention. Two of the officers who were standing along the room’s perimeter began to move in our direction.
‘Oh, great, just what we needed: another visit from the fuzz,’ I murmured to no one in particular. Miss Lucinda gave me an odd glance, but kept her own counsel.
Two of Manchester’s finest approached our little group, their faces set on ‘bland’ as they looked us over. Finally, the shorter officer, the one whose eyebrows were as thick as newly hatched caterpillars in the spring, turned to Miss Lucinda.
‘Ma’am, are these young men bothering you?’ Now that was a question I hadn’t expected to hear. I camouflaged a small laugh behind a cough.
‘No, Officer, they’re not. Actually, they are friends of the – of the deceased. You might want to ask them a few questions about this evening, if you haven’t done so already.’ Miss Lucinda continued ministering to Miss Bea’s shoulders.
‘Is this true?’ The taller of the pair, the one with the pale blue eyes and hair like cotton wool, looked at Andy and Bert with an interested look on his face.
‘Well, yes, it is,’ admitted Andy. Bert just stood there.
I’ve often heard the expression, “like a bump on a log,” but it had never really occurred to me exactly what that meant. After observing Bert’s behavior, though, I think I figured it out: bumps on a log don’t move, that’s true, but they also don t go away. If Andy had a hand in this, then so did Bert. The two were joined at the hip.