Lexie Starr Cozy Mysteries Boxed Set

by Jeanne Glidewell

  "Well, yes, Marian. He's standing right behind you. I'm surprised you didn't see him. I guess maybe he's changed a lot too," Pete concluded. "It has been thirty years since you've seen any of us, I reckon. I'm sorry to hear about his son. No wonder he's got such a crowd around him."

  "Oh, yes, there he is. Silly me. I never was any good with faces. Thanks Pete."

  With the news of Walter Sneed's death all over the news, Clarence was understandably surrounded by a bevy of classmates, no doubt offering up words of compassion and comfort. Many of the classmates probably still lived in the area and had seen the news about Walter's death on television and in the papers. I moved over to the corner of the room where I could keep an eye on Clarence, while hiding behind my plate of refreshments. I would wait to move in until after the crowd had thinned out.

  After about five minutes of nibbling on the same sugar cookie, I noticed several ladies walking my way. I glanced around quickly, but I could see no way to escape, especially after one of them called out my new name.

  "Marian, how are you? We're all so thrilled to see you. You missed our last three reunions, and we didn't expect to see you at this one either. How have you been getting along? I don't imagine Rayburn is still alive?" One of the ladies asked me. I assumed Rayburn was Marian's husband, and he must have been afflicted with some serious health problem. I didn't have the heart to kill him off too, after just killing off Marian's mother.

  "Yes, actually he's doing fine. He's recovered remarkably well," I said. "I was going to bring him along, but he was scheduled to have some medical tests performed this week. Just a routine checkup, you see."

  Suddenly, all three women looked at me as if I'd said my husband was busy shooting a porn film, or if I had grown my very own Chia Pet on the side of my chin.

  "You were going to bring a champion quarter horse to the reunion?" One lady asked, astounded. "Why in the world would you bring a horse to a class reunion?"

  "A very, very old one, I might add," another lady said. "After all, you won the county championship with Rayburn over thirty years ago. Isn't that at the high end of a quarter horse's average life span?"

  The third lady just stood there with her mouth gaping open. Crap. I knew I should have just killed him off too. Now I had to wiggle my way out of my ridiculous remark.

  "Oh. Rayburn, you said. I'm sorry. I must have misunderstood you. No, I had to have Rayburn put down several years ago," I said, putting my hand over my ear to hide it from their view. "You'll have to excuse me. I experienced some hearing damage a few years ago, in an explosion. And I'm sorry, but it appears the battery in my new hearing aid needs to be changed. Please pardon me while I go see to that in the ladies' room. It was nice to see you all again."

  I walked away with my face as red as my cup of fruit punch. Maybe I shouldn't approach Clarence Sneed until my nerves had calmed down and my face had returned to its normal color. The crowd around him had thinned somewhat, and I could just move in a little closer and eavesdrop on the conversation, until I felt comfortable stepping in and visiting with Mr. Sneed myself.

  But first I had to make a quick trip to the restroom, as I was sure the three women were still staring at me, talking amongst themselves about their old friend who had gone completely batty in her old age. They must be thinking I'd experienced some brain damage, along with the hearing damage, as a result of the explosion. For Marian's sake, I hoped she didn't make the trip back to Rockdale for any future reunions.

  After spending an adequate amount of time in the restroom to replace a hearing aid battery, I sauntered back out to inch my way closer to Clarence. I wanted to talk with him as quickly as possible and get out of this place before I made another major screw-up.

  Clarence was a rather slovenly looking man; his suit was wrinkled, his greasy hair was sticking out in numerous directions, and he wore old battered sneakers instead of the dress shoes a suit demanded. Chuck may have come by his "redneckness" naturally.

  When I finally got within hearing distance of Clarence, there were five or six men conversing with him. I didn't want to step right into the middle of the men, but thankfully, with the benefit of the imaginary new hearing aid battery, I was able to make out the gist of the conversation.

  "I can't imagine who would want to kill your son," one man said.

  "Me neither," Clarence said. "He was really too much of a sissy to get into it with anyone capable of cold-blooded murder. I never knew him to run with a rough crowd, just athletes most the time. When he wasn't with his girlfriend, that is."

  "Did you get to spend much time with him in recent years?" Another man asked him.

  "No. Unfortunately, I haven't seen him in over two years. I tried to get him to move out to New Mexico with me, so I could train him as an apprentice. He could have taken over my company some day. I wanted to get him away from his mother and try to make a man out of him. I tried several times, but he refused every time. Now I guess it's too late to change his mind. This wouldn't have happened if he'd been with me," Clarence said, with a catch in his voice.

  "Yeah, that's too bad. Have you seen Melba since you've been back?" The same gentleman asked. "I've heard she's in the mental ward at the hospital."

  "No, but I'll probably run into her at the funeral. She's such an off-the-wall nutcase now that she drives me crazy if I have to be around her very long. She completely lost her mind a few years ago. We got divorced, but she wouldn't leave me alone. That's the main reason I relocated to Albuquerque, to put as many miles between us as I could."

  "I heard she was in the hospital, too," a woman broke in. "She might or might not be able to attend the funeral, depending on her mental condition at the time."

  "I hope she's unable to attend," Clarence said. "I don't wish any ill health on her, but I could do without the unpleasantness."

  It seemed to me, although Clarence had little use for his ex-wife, he didn't appear to have any qualms with his son. He may have considered Walter a sissy and a momma's boy like his sister did, but he'd still tried a number of times to get Walter to join him in New Mexico. He had expressed wishes of turning his company over to Walter in the future, so he must not have felt any animosity toward him. I felt confident Walter hadn't harmed his son in any way.

  I continued to eavesdrop. I was learning more this way than if I'd been asking Clarence questions myself. This way there'd be no awkwardness when I ran into him at Walter's funeral, which I was sure to do. He would surely question why Marian, an old high school classmate, had attended his son's funeral. Clarence was now relating a story about taking Walter on a hunting trip when his son was still a young boy.

  "He squalled every time I shot a quail. He refused to touch the gun or the dead birds. He was much too sensitive to make a hunter of, so I never took him hunting again. At least he was a pretty good athlete, which is why he wanted to be a coach and a gym teacher. He made the varsity basketball team his sophomore year in high school and was currently on the college team. He was too scrawny for football though. He would have gotten his neck snapped in half. I still can't quite believe someone would want to kill him."

  Another man who'd just joined the group told Clarence he'd heard Walter had been dating the same girl for several years. He said he'd read in the paper the young girl, Sidney Hobbs, had been unable to be questioned by the police, but they had spoken briefly with her father. According to her father, she had a solid alibi: shopping all day with a friend. She was temporarily cleared of any wrongdoing, he told Clarence.

  Not that anyone suspected Sidney Hobbs in the first place, the man said. After talking to Paula, I'd already figured this was probably the case. I'd observed her falling to pieces in agony and grief, and knew no actress could perform that brilliantly. Still, I wanted to talk to her if the situation arose. She would know as much about Walter as anybody.

  "Yes," Clarence said. "Walter had told me about Sidney. He wanted to marry her. The last time I talked to him, he'd already proposed to her."

  "
What did she say?" Several men asked in unison.

  "She was kind of waffling back and forth, I take it. She wanted to marry him, but I think her folks might have thought they were still too young. I think they wanted her to finish college before settling down," Clarence explained. "Walter was anxiously awaiting her decision, he told me that day on the phone. He felt Sidney wanted to marry him right away but didn't want to disappoint her parents."

  "Marian," I heard over the squealing loud speaker, "Marian Welch. Where are you, Marian? I know you're here."

  I froze in place, hoping I wasn't the only Marian in the room, and the Marian in question would quickly step up to the stage while I snuck out the back door.

  "Come on, Marian. I know you're here somewhere," I heard a man's voice say again, as heads were starting to turn my way. "We've nominated you to sing the National Anthem to get the festivities rolling. You were always the best singer in our class. As you all may remember, Marian sang the National Anthem before every home football and basketball game. We'd like to hear it one more time, just for old time's sake. I'll accompany you on the organ, Marian, just like in the good old days."

  Everybody began to cheer, urging me up to the microphone.

  Someone was pulling on my arm, trying to drag me to the stage. Another person was giving me a gentle push from behind.

  Now I was in a full-blown panic. I couldn't carry two notes in a row that were in tune, and couldn't have remembered the words to the National Anthem right now if my life depended on it. In fact, I always lip-synched whenever it was sung at ball games just to spare those standing around me.

  "Wait a minute." Thinking quickly, I said to the crowd. "My throat is very dry from talking so much. I haven't seen any of you in so long and I'm already getting hoarse from visiting with everyone. Let me step out in the hallway and get a drink from the water fountain. Then I'll be delighted to go up on stage and sing the National Anthem for you."

  Everybody in the room seemed okay with this plan. Little did they know that a bulldozer could not have shoved me up on that stage to sing even a tune as simple as "Happy Birthday to You." I'd fake a heart attack before I'd sing the National Anthem.

  Why did this Marian have to be so damned talented? I'd been learning a lot by listening to Clarence talk amongst his old schoolmates. As I turned to head toward the hallway, I heard Clarence say to his friends, "I once cut a fart that lasted longer than the entire first verse of the 'Star Spangled Banner.'"

  Okay, so Clarence was definitely just as much a redneck as his son. That would be the last thing I learned from Clarence, because the class reunion was over for Marian. I walked out to the hallway and then scurried as fast as I could out the side door to the parking lot, where I drove off in my Jeep and never looked back. I found myself humming the "Star Spangled Banner" on the way back to the inn.

  * * *

  Thanks to the National Anthem, I made it home close to seven-thirty. Stone was sitting with the Dudleys in the family room.

  They were all watching the Sunday night football game on television, and sharing a large bowl of buttered popcorn. The game had barely begun, but the Chiefs were already behind by seven points.

  "Hey Lexie, where have you been?" Stone asked. He walked over and hugged me as I entered the room, placing a tender kiss on my forehead. "I was just getting ready to call your cell phone."

  "Just listening to Walter's dad, Clarence, talk about his son," I said. "I ran into him at the convenience store when I stopped to pick up a cup of coffee for my drive to Shawnee. He had a shirt on with 'Sneed's Heating & Cooling' stitched across the pocket and was waiting behind me to pour a cup of coffee."

  Good Lord, what a liar I'd become. I can remember back to when I couldn't tell a lie without stuttering all the way through it. Out of pure nervousness, I'd crack my knuckles until my fingers swelled up. But now I lied at the drop of a hat. I vowed to stop all this impromptu lying just as soon as Walter's killer was apprehended. I didn't like the person I was becoming, and I knew it wasn't fair to Stone to keep the truth from him. But for now, I continued with another falsehood.

  "We had a nice conversation," I said. "I'm convinced he had nothing to do with his son's death."

  "That's good," Stone said. I was glad to see that Stone wasn't interested in the details of our meeting, even though I was ready to gloss over them. My prefabricated story didn't even sound believable to me. But the truth sounded even phonier than my made-up story.

  "Find out anything?" he asked.

  "Just a few things, such as Walter had recently asked his longtime girlfriend, Sidney Hobbs, to marry him and she was having trouble making up her mind. She was wild about Walter but wasn't sure she wanted to marry him right away. Her parents weren't anxious for them to marry until she finished school," I said. Stone nodded, so I continued.

  "Walter was a momma's boy, but still a decent athlete, at basketball at least. I guess I learned nothing of any importance really, but I just got the distinct impression Clarence couldn't, and wouldn't, have harmed his son. He was too determined to get Walter to move out to Albuquerque and learn the heating and cooling business so he could take over the reins of Clarence's company some day," I explained.

  The Dudleys had no idea what I was talking about but showed polite interest. "I wouldn't say the same about his half-brother, Chuck, though. I think there's enough dislike there to warrant a closer look. One of the detectives talked to him, and I don't know what conclusion he came to, but I think he should be on the suspect list, if he isn't already."

  Just then there was a great deal of commotion on the television screen. The Chiefs had returned a punt for a touchdown, and were now tied with their opponents. Stone's attention was riveted back to the ballgame, so I went up to undress and take a long, hot bath.

  I was no closer to identifying a killer than I'd been at the beginning of the case, but there were a couple of suspects I felt comfortable in taking off my list. I hoped the investigation team was having better luck than I was. It just didn't seem to me they were making much of an effort. I needed to soak in the tub and think of a way to rectify the situation.

  Chapter 10

  It was raining when I woke up on Monday morning. There was even a touch of sleet hitting the windowpane. The sound made me want to stay in bed, but we had guests at the inn and I had things to do. I jumped out of bed before I could talk myself out of it. I could hear Stone's electric razor humming in the bathroom.

  "Hi, babe," he said as I joined him in the bathroom. "I'm about done here and then the bathroom is all yours."

  "Okay, thanks. I need to get around and fix breakfast for the Dudleys and for you, too, if you want some."

  "What are you fixing?"

  "I thought I'd make some biscuits and gravy, and make some patties with the rest of the sausage for you and me," I said. "How does that sound?"

  "That sounds good to me. Count me in!"

  After I got dressed and made the bed, I went down and found the Dudleys in the library of the large house. They looked bright and cheery for such a gray, dismal day.

  "Happy Halloween. What are your plans for today?" I asked. "Are you guys going out?"

  "No, we really don't have any plans. Since it's a rainy day, we thought we'd just sit around and read. That's why we're hanging out in the library," Eleanor said. "You have a very nice selection of books in here."

  "I work as an assistant librarian on a volunteer basis. The library occasionally has a book sale to make room for new books on the shelves. I get a crack at them before they're put out to sell. It's just a small library and doesn't have much spare space," I said. "I'll have Stone light a fire in the fireplace in the living room today. A fire will make it nice and comfy."

  "Well, I'm looking forward to reading this latest Jill Churchill cozy. She's my favorite author," Eleanor said. "I've read all her books except this latest one."

  Steve put down a book he was glancing through, and said, "I'm still trying to decide which book I want to read
first. There's a Sidney Sheldon book that's caught my eye, as well as an old Zane Grey western. By the way, I noticed there's a large wooden box in the parlor. It looks just like an old-time coffin. What do you use it for, may I ask?"

  "Well, it actually is a make-believe coffin—"

  "That you keep handy just in case any of your guests get out of hand?" Steve asked, chuckling at his own comment.

  "Yes, and keep that in mind if you don't like the breakfast I'm getting ready to cook. You better compliment the food no matter how bad it is," I said. I noticed that Steve laughed but was still looking at me inquisitively, waiting for the real reason the Alexandria Inn kept a coffin in its parlor.

  I couldn't tell them the truth and make them uncomfortable. Many people wouldn't stay at a place where someone had just been murdered. And there was a chance they'd be outraged they weren't informed of the crime earlier. Fortunately, the crime scene tape around the parlor had been removed before their arrival. The tape had been placed around the parlor to keep potential guests from disturbing any possible evidence still remaining at the scene. But, at my request, Wyatt took it down on Saturday morning, convinced no more evidence could be found.

  "Actually," I continued. "We were going to have a haunted house here for the area kids, but something came up and we were unable to do so."

  "Oh?"

  "Yes," I said.

  Before he could ask me what came up to thwart the haunted house plans, I excused myself to go begin preparing breakfast. I really did need to get started. I would have to make two bowls of gravy, one with sausage, and one without for Eleanor and Steve, who I'd almost forgot was allergic to pork. Like Stone had said, vegetarians could be a real challenge to try to plan meals around. Allergies could make for a hassle too, I was discovering. I'd have to fix a lot of vegetables and meatless casseroles while the Dudleys were here, to serve along with the meat, which Steve and Stone would want. As long as the meat didn't come from a pig, I'd be fine.