Read The Saucy Lucy Murders Online

Authors: Cindy Keen Reynders

The Saucy Lucy Murders (27 page)

“Don’t worry about Elton’s snobby parents. They’re only trying to scare you. Call Bruce, too. He needs to haul his b-u-t-t back here to get Aunt Gladys. This is too much for you.”

Lexie pulled a tissue from her apron pocket and blew her nose. “I guess so. I let myself get overwhelmed instead of thinking.”

“It happens to all of us,” Eva said maturely, no doubt enjoying the fact that for once she was able to give advice to her mother.

Strange how your kids grow up and the roles reverse at times, Lexie thought. She remembered when Eva’s biggest worry was not being invited to a
friend’s birthday party, or thinking that her rear end was getting too flab-ulous.

“Thanks,” Lexie told her daughter. Eva leaned her head on Lexie’s shoulder for a moment.

Eva pulled back and looked at her mother earnestly. “Hey, didn’t you tell me on the phone the other day you have a big date tonight? Don’t you need to get ready?”

In her misery, Lexie had completely forgotten about Jack Sturgeon and the movies. She glanced frantically at the grandfather clock. “I don’t have much time.”

“Then get a move on.” Eva pulled her up and prodded her out the door into the hallway.

“There’s stew in the kitchen for dinner and Aunt Gladys is resting in her room—”

“Would you stop already? Aunt G and I will be fine.” Eva pointed at the staircase. “March!”

C
HAPTER
13

U
P IN
L
EXIE’S BEDROOM, HAIRBRUSHES, MAKE
-up, and clothing flew as Eva helped her get ready. From the items in her closet she selected a black skirt, a black, low-cut sweater, and black heels. She topped off the ensemble with her mother’s pearl earrings and necklace. Eva insisted she wear her hair down instead of pulled back in her standard ponytail and helped her arrange the ginger-colored mass into soft waves that fell to her shoulders. Next Eva applied foundation, putting extra on Lexie’s bruised forehead. With a soft brush, she expertly applied cheek color, eye color, and finished her masterpiece with mascara. Eva also insisted Lexie borrow the Escort so she wouldn’t have to deal with the old truck clunking along and possibly breaking down.

Unaccustomed to wearing a dress and heels, let alone makeup, Lexie glanced at herself in the bathroom mirror, completely unprepared for what she saw, but pleasantly surprised.
Not bad looking for a
thirty-seven-year-old broad if I do say so myself.
Maybe there was hope for her yet.

“Thanks for everything, Eva,” Lexie told Eva downstairs as she slipped on a light jacket and put Eva’s car keys in her pocket. “I just wish I could quit thinking of all the nonsense going on in my life right now. It’s distracting.”

“Mother!” Eva rolled her eyes. “OK. Listen up. Tonight I’m … I’m like your fairy godmother. And I command you to have a good time.” She removed an umbrella from a wall hook and tapped Lexie on the top of the head with it. “Just be back by midnight or you’ll turn into a pumpkin. Got it?”

Lexie laughed. “Got it.”

Stars twinkled above like a million diamonds splayed on a blanket of black velvet as Lexie backed the Escort out of the garage and drove down the street. The sound of an engine revving drew her attention and she saw a dark car whip around the corner and out of sight when she drove past her house. Her blood froze in her veins. Was that the mysterious car she’d seen parking in front of her house lately? The one that disappeared every time she came out to investigate?

She stepped on the gas, zoomed down the street and around the corner, determined to follow the vehicle. Sighting taillights up ahead in the distance, she pressed harder on the accelerator. Intent on her mission, she never noticed passing the one squad car belonging to Moose Creek Junction’s finest parked
off the road in the shadowy bushes. One second later, a red light flashed in her rearview mirror and the sheriff’s cruiser pulled up alongside the Escort.

“Crap!” Lexie couldn’t see inside, but she could imagine if it was Otis in there, he was furiously shaking his fist at her and swearing up a storm. She pulled over and the cruiser parked behind her. Furious, she got out and marched up to the sheriff’s vehicle just as Otis slid his portly form out of the driver’s seat.

Yellow streetlights provided enough illumination to reveal the irritation written on Sheriff Parnell’s face. “I thought you were Eva, Lexie. Where the hell were you driving so fast? And why did you get out of your car? I’m supposed to come up to yours.”

“Whatever,” Lexie said. “I’m in pursuit of a suspect. I’ve got to go—”

Otis put a restraining hand on her arm. “Hold on there, girl. What suspect? What in Sam Hill are you talking about?”

“That car I told you about. It went that way!” She pointed down a dark street.

“It’s long gone by now,” Otis said in a firm voice.

“Yes, no thanks to you,” Lexie snapped back.

“Lexie, you are not an office of the law, so quit acting like one. You should have called me, not gone after the damn car yourself. You could have gotten yourself hurt.”

Lexie pulled her arm loose from Otis’ firm grip and rubbed it. “There was no time!”

He snorted. “I’m only giving you a warning
ticket this time because you’re my wife’s kid sister. But don’t let me or Cleve catch you driving like an idiot again or I’ll have your license yanked. Who do you think you are, anyway? Columbo on steroids?” He shook his head, then looked her up and down and whistled, as though he really hadn’t seen what she was wearing before. “All dressed up and someplace to go? That’s not usually your style, is it?”

“Whatever, Otis,” Lexie said, ignoring him. “At least I’m trying to get somewhere on this case. Admit it. You’re not much good at your job, are you?”

“You’re good at getting yourself in hot water is what, missy.” Red in the face, steam practically coming out his hears, Otis scribbled on a pad, ripped off a yellow ticket, and shoved it at her. “By the way, did you get a glimpse of who was driving? A license plate number or maybe even part of it?”

“No.” Scowling, Lexie snatched the ticket from her brother-in-law’s meaty grip and stormed back to her car.

“I’m warning you, Lexie. Keep your nose out of trouble,” Otis shouted at her.

Lexie ignored him, got into the Escort and drove off. Maybe it was a dumb stunt to go chasing after the mystery car, but like she told Otis, at least she was trying. What if she had managed to get the license plate number or see who was driving? She’d be a hero. OK, maybe not a hero, but at least the car chase would have been worth her time.

It wouldn’t be easy to convince herself to have a
pleasant evening. Putting the mysterious vehicle from her mind and her humiliation at patootiehead Otis’ warning, she sailed down the street in Eva’s Escort.

A few minutes later, she pulled into a parking space in front of the Jefferson Theater, shrinking in her skin when she saw Jack pacing outside the building. This was so embarrassing.

“Wow,” Jack exclaimed when he saw her, eyes lighting up. “My date’s a knockout. What happened to your head?”

Lexie’s face got warm and she touched the bandage. “A minor accident at the café. I’ll tell you about it later. Your knockout date is late. I’m sorry.”

He chuckled. “No harm done. We’ve probably only missed a few boring previews.” He took her hand and they went inside to purchase tickets. In the lobby, he bought popcorn and soda and escorted her up to balcony seats.

The theater was an old relic, probably dating from sometime in the 1930s. Ornate maple woodwork, red brocade wallpaper, plush carpeting, and vintage light fixtures gave the place a feeling of a time gone by. The interior had been renovated, but the restoration maintained the original flavor.

Lexie recalled coming as a kid to the Saturday afternoon matinee. Lucy usually brought her and of course, being the older sister, Mom and Dad put her in charge. For treats, the girls bought popcorn and sodas, Pay Day, Baby Ruth, and Look candy bars. It was a good time, a pleasant escape from reality.
Except for Lucy’s bossing. Since Lexie was the younger sister it had come with the territory.

Lexie relaxed in her seat next to Jack, feeling a familiar sense of anticipation as the lights faded. It was a fun movie about a boy wizard, which was actually meant for children. But Moose Creek Junction didn’t exactly get first run movies. There wasn’t a large selection to choose from and they were usually several months old. As they said, beggars couldn’t be choosers, so the audience was packed with adults and children alike. Despite its shortcomings, the old Jefferson Theater was a major attraction.

Jack leaned over and whispered another compliment to Lexie about how good she looked and how much he enjoyed being with her. Lexie shivered with delight at the feel of his strong arm when it came down gently around her shoulders. Instinctively, she snuggled closer, feeling safe and protected. Though the black car incident was still in her thoughts, it was way in the back of her mind. She’d think about it later.

It had been a long time since Lexie dated anyone, if you didn’t count the tragic Henry Whitehead fiasco. Going to the movie with Jack was different. He had a pleasant personality and was very nice looking. He smelled like Irish Spring soap, not dirty diapers, which was a vast improvement over Violet’s ex.

When the movie was over, Lexie and Jack walked through the Moose Creek Junction Park hand in hand, enjoying the silvery moonlight and warm October evening. Bushes rustled softly in the
light breeze and late autumn flowers and trees had a magical quality. Also magic was having a nice man paying her compliments and speaking sweetly to her. Not yelling and slapping her around like Dan. How different this was. How … wonderful.

Jack Sturgeon was someone special.

“So, what’s with the bruise on your noggin?” Jack asked.

Lexie frowned. “Some kid threw a rock through my front window. Unfortunately, I got in the way. The police think it was probably just a prank.”

“Little punks.” Jack stopped walking and took her face in his hands, staring at her in earnest. “Are you all right? Maybe you should be home resting?”

“Oh, believe me,” she told him, smiling up at the angled planes of his attractive face, her skin prickling. “This date has been the best medicine. I’m right where I need to be.”

Jack leaned into her and gave her the most exquisite kiss. Later, when he’d walked her to her car, he said, “I had a very nice time, Lex. You’ll go out with me again, won’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” He leaned over and lightly kissed her forehead, then stood straight and smiled. “How about next Sunday you come with me out to my cabin on Gun Smoke Lake? We can spend the day fishing and grill up some trout for dinner. Then we can head back to town and catch another movie, if you like.”

“Sounds like fun.” Lexie smiled. “And thank you for tonight. I really enjoyed myself.”

“So did I. I’ll pick you up about seven-thirty on Sunday. The fish don’t sleep in too late, you know. Remember to wear old clothes. Fishing’s a dirty business.”

Lexie got in the Escort and drove home through the dark streets, her whole being alive. How could she have been so lucky to meet Jack Sturgeon? He actually liked her, wonder of wonders. Tonight, nothing could bother her. Any time a problem broke surface in her mind, she fought it back into a deep, dark corner. She had all week to think of a way out of her dilemma. Tonight she wanted to bask in the after-glow of her date with Jack.

Another customer-less week dragged by. Lucy decided they needed to take advantage of the break, instead of moping around, so they took inventory of the café supplies: canned goods, flour, sugar, salt, and the list went on. They cleaned and organized all the cupboards. They decided to make their Saucy Lucy fruitcake for the church bake sale that was held in November, just in time for Christmas. It was an old recipe and wasn’t one of Lucille Castleton’s, but actually came from Grandmother Castleton, who the family claimed, had brought it over from England. The cakes were filled with a multitude of dried and candied fruits, the crimson, green, and gold of the ingredients being representative of the holiday season. It was also filled with spices such as cloves and
cinnamon and the baking scent was so heavenly you could nearly float away on it.

As the week dragged by, Lexie had the strangest experiences. She went from elation when she thought about Jack Sturgeon to fretting endlessly about her predicament. She kept waiting for the Briarhurst’s attorney to call and give her bad news, but he never did. She knew, deep down, the Briar-hursts had merely been behaving like distraught and confused parents. There was no case against her because she’d done nothing. It bothered her, however, to have people mistrust and dislike her.

At the moment she was like the pariah of Moose Creek Junction with no customers and no friends. Everywhere she went people shunned her, except for Jack, and behaved as though she had a contagious disease, sending her narrow-eyed, sidelong looks. It was downright awful and Lexie briefly considered sewing a scarlet letter of some sort on her apron. Possibly “M” for maligned, or “P” for pissed off. She vacillated between the two ideas.

It was Thursday and as they prepared the day’s minestrone soup special—why they bothered, Lexie had no idea—Lucy finally came up with an idea she thought would help Lexie clear her name. “For Pete’s sake, people simply couldn’t be mean spirited to you if you attended church services with me,” she proclaimed. “It would be extremely uncharitable. And besides …”

Lexie and Lucy were standing at the kitchen
sink, peeling carrots. Lexie turned to Lucy and gave her a long look. “For God’s sake, Lucy, they’d stone me. Either that or put me under a door and pile rocks on it until they crushed my chest.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “There you go again, getting all melodramatic. Why, you should have gone into acting, even though Mother and Father would never have approved.”

“Leslie’s right,” Aunt Gladys piped up. She sat at the kitchen table, which was covered in newspapers, doing one of the paint-by number pictures Lexie had purchased at the Loose Goose Emporium. She actually enjoyed it, or so she said. Today she wore her zebra-striped caftan, about fifty strands of huge black beads looped around her neck and about a thousand jangling bracelets. “There’s a bunch of teeny-tiny pea brains around here. Lucille, you’ve spent entirely too much of your life in Moose Creek Junction.
Born yesterday,
if you know what I mean.”

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