by Riley Adams
“Getting back to what Lulu was saying, though,” boomed Big Ben. “Let’s ruminate on this for a minute. I really do think that Oliver killed that critic. And I’ll tell you why.” He leaned across the table and tapped a long, arthritic finger on the red checkered tablecloth. “I saw him. I saw him talking to Evelyn’s guy at lunchtime. And wasn’t he furious?”
“Where was this?”
“Well, today is the day that I meet with my bridge friends. We’d played bridge this morning, then went out to lunch together. We were over at that new place—the New Blues Café. And then we saw Adam come in. And right on his tail was Oliver. And he was a righteous mess, let me tell you. His shirt tail was half tucked in, his face was all red and splotchy. And it looked like he was crying.”
The other guys murmured over this. Crying was not something that this generation of males did very much of.
Big Ben continued, “And so Adam laughed right in his face and gave him a shove right out the door of the restaurant. And I guess Oliver was so humiliated that he did leave. But he was just about as mad as anything. I think the tears were tears of anger.” He ruminated for a minute. “But it was just about the most exciting thing our bridge club had ever seen. Even more exciting than when Rupert McDonnell stepped on Ida Harvey’s cat and the creature leaped at him, scaled his head, and skidded off. Tore that toupee right off his bald head.”
“I bet he looks better with that wig off,” said Buddy thoughtfully.
Lulu didn’t spend long talking after that. The blues band had done an excellent job of pulling customers off Beale Street and soon the staff was all jumping to keep up with the orders of barbeque sandwiches and ribs. Lulu’s mind was still caught up thinking about Adam Cawthorn. She’d really like to believe that Ben had nothing to do with his death. Surely he didn’t. Did he?
After the crowd had finally all pulled out, the tablecloths had been taken off, and the tables scrubbed down, Lulu sat down on the front porch for a few minutes with a tall glass of sweet tea, then Cherry opened the door. But if she hadn’t had her Elvis helmet and wildly bright and mismatched clothes on, Lulu never would have guessed it was Cherry. The usual bounce in her step was missing and she seemed oddly subdued.
“Hi, Lulu,” said Cherry, looking around her surreptitiously. “You out here on the porch all by your lonesome?” Cherry turned slowly in a 360, looking all around the screen porch before finally ducking down to the floor and looking down under the table.
“Mercy, Cherry! There’s nobody else out here, not even any little people. It’s past closing time. Who did you think might be lurking around under the porch tables?”
Cherry’s face turned about as red as her shirt. “Well, now, don’t take this the wrong way, Lulu, but occasionally Ella Beth likes to do a little detective work. I just love that little girl to death . . . but I wanted to talk with you a few minutes in private.”
Lulu wrinkled up her forehead. “I really would be worried if Ella Beth were out here at midnight. Of course, honey! Tell me what’s on your mind.”
“All right.” Cherry sat down in a rocking chair, took the cap off a bottle of water, and took a couple of sips. “Sara called me a while ago and told me all about y’alls’ rough day. And I was at home thinking about it.” She took a deep breath. “Evelyn killed Adam Cawthorn.”
“What?”
Cherry nodded and absently took off her Elvis helmet, cradling it protectively in her lap. “That’s right. She shot him dead. I know it. And now I don’t for the life of me know what I’m going to do about it.”
“Cherry are you sure? How do you know?”
Again with a deep breath. “I know because I felt so terrible about how I’d practically dragged her out to Beale to see Adam cheating on her. I went over and visited with her this morning to help cheer her up and to tell her that Adam was just a scummy slug and not to spend a moment worrying over him. She was eating herself into a coma with the most delicious food that I think Tommie has ever cooked. But then she told me that he was ‘going down’ and she had some ideas on how to do it!” Cherry finished her summary with relief and looked anxiously at Lulu.
Lulu rocked for a minute quietly with her eyes closed. “Cherry, I think you’re misinterpreting what she told you. You know how Evelyn is—she probably had some mischief in mind to play on Adam. Maybe she was going to post an embarrassing picture of him on the Internet, or go tell Ginger that she’d caught him cheating on her, too . . . something like that. I just don’t see Evelyn Wade taking a gun to somebody. I don’t care how mad he made her.”
Cherry whispered, “But what should I do? Should I ask her about it?”
“Why don’t we give her a little time to process all this before we start asking her questions. I’d hate for her to get her feelings hurt thinking that we don’t trust her.”
Cherry shifted uncomfortably in her rocker. “Okay, Lulu. I’ll go along with that plan for a little while. But if she doesn’t say something about where she was or what she was doing when Adam Cawthorn was killed . . . I just don’t know how I’ll be able to look Pink in the eye the next time he’s in Aunt Pat’s.”
Cherry seemed to have calmed down. What Lulu thought actually happened, though, was that Cherry had just transferred all her stress to Lulu. When Cherry finally left to get back home, Lulu decided she might as well end her night with a heart-to-heart with her son. Although Lulu’s neck and shoulders were bunched with tense muscles, she felt herself relax a little as she walked through the door of the kitchen.
The Aunt Pat’s kitchen was her favorite place on earth. She’d grown up there with her maiden aunt showing Lulu how to cook as she perched up on a high stool, and her aunt even let her help make the corn muffins for their guests while they worked. A bunch of shiny copper pots hung from the ceiling and there was also a pegboard with pots—installed as soon as Aunt Pat saw that her beloved Julia Child had set up a pegboard system to organize her cookware.
Ben was still cleaning up the kitchen, perspiration forming beads on his forehead as he worked. The kitchen was still toasty from all the cooking. He looked up briefly as his mother walked in and sat at a wooden stool at the long counter. Finally he stopped his scrubbing and looked at her. He pulled up another stool and plopped down on it with a gusty sigh. Now that he’d sat down, he actually seemed to realize how tired he was. He rubbed his eyes with a beefy hand.
“Long day, wasn’t it, Mother? I guess I should be heading back home to make sure the girls are okay.”
Lulu said, “I’m sure Sara would have called you if there’d been any problems. It was an awful shock for them, but children are so amazingly resilient.”
Ben nodded and took a big swallow of some sweet tea he’d had beside him as he cooked.
“But I did want to ask you about something.” Lulu sat up straight on her stool and leveled Ben with a look that made him squirm a bit. “Coco told me this afternoon that she’d seen you having a big argument with Adam Cawthorn when she was riding the school bus this morning. That’s why she recognized the man after Ella Beth discovered his body. Now”—she raised a hand up as Ben opened his mouth—“I’m aware you knew he was the critic who wrote that ugly review on Aunt Pat’s. I’m sure Sara told you all about it. And I know that’s what you must have been arguing about with him. Maybe it wasn’t even an argument, maybe you were just telling him off. But I need to know, honey, if things went any further than that.”
Ben looked even more exhausted than he did before Lulu started talking to him. “That snarky review of his just killed me, Mother. It was like he was sticking sharpened steak knives right into me. And knowing that he was happily eating at Aunt Pat’s practically every day, gobbling down the very food he’d bashed, practically licking his plate clean? After saying all that stuff about my cooking? It made me see red. I couldn’t stand not letting him know that I knew who he was. That he was no Eppie Currian. And that I never wanted to see him in Aunt Pat’s again.”
Lulu straightened out a wrink
le on her floral dress, then looked Ben right in the eye again. “And that’s all there was to it?”
“That was it.” But Ben didn’t quite meet his mother’s eyes. She could swear that there was something he wasn’t telling her.
“And you don’t know who did do it? Because he seems to be a really unpopular man.”
Ben gave his head a quick shake. “No clue who murdered Adam Cawthorn, Mother. But I’d like to give him a medal.”
Chapter 6
Lulu and Flo rapped on Evelyn’s massive, double front doors. They had a big takeout box from Aunt Pat’s filled to bursting with cornbread muffins, ribs, and baked beans. Tommie came to the door after a minute. “Ooh, well looka here! Y’all brought me some food.”
Lulu hugged her with a free arm. “We brought enough for two, Tommie! You make sure you get yourself a heaping plate of it. I know how much you love the ribs at Aunt Pat’s, so I put a bunch extra in there.” Lulu looked around Tommie to the cavernous foyer. “Isn’t Evelyn around today? We thought she might be feeling poorly after what happened to Adam.”
Tommie clearly knew all about it. She nodded her graying head. “That scamp! Yes, Miss Evelyn told me all about it. But she’s not nearly in the shape she was in when Cherry was here before. No, she seemed almost chipper about it all. Although she did want to go out and get herself a little bit of stress relief. You know how sometimes you just got to get out of the house?”
Flo said, “Good for Evelyn! What’s she doing? Taking a walk? Or did she go to that yoga class she was trying to drag me to.” Flo turned to Lulu and said, “Yoga! Can you imagine it? If my body was meant to bend like that, God would have made me a pretzel.”
Tommie gave a belly laugh. “No, y’all, she didn’t do anything all that healthy. Although she does get on her kicks where she don’t eat nothing but seaweed-looking stuff and exercises with a trainer. I do hate it when she gets on those health kicks of hers and I don’t get to cook all my favorite foods for her. She’s taken off for the spa today. Wanted to do something nice for herself, you know. She’s over at the Chic Clique Spa.”
“Even better!” said Flo. “I didn’t much feel like catching up with her while she exercises, but telling her how sorry I am while I get my nails done sounds like a great plan.”
Lulu said sadly, “I don’t think you need any beautification effort. You look perfectly put together to me.” Lulu looked at Flo’s carefully styled bouffant, unchipped nails, and cute outfit.
“Honey, there’s always more work that can be done!” said Flo.
Lulu looked a little doubtful. “Well, I did want to talk to her and see how she’s getting on. I don’t know about a spa, though. That’s not something I’ve ever done.”
Flo’s mouth dropped. “You haven’t gone to a spa?!”
“No. I mean . . . I’ve gotten my nails done at NailPro, but that’s just for special occasions. Not an everyday thing.”
Tommie hooted. “I have a feeling you’re about to get indoctrinated into the finer things in life, Miss Lulu.”
“I just didn’t know I knew anybody who hasn’t gone through the primping process, Lulu. I can’t spend as much time or money over there as I’d like to, but I’m all about getting a nice facial, or getting a pedicure or manicure. And sometimes, when I’m really stressed out from the wedding planning? I even go get myself a massage. Not the long ones because they’re too expensive, but the fifteen minute ones still do a ton of good when your neck is all twisted up in knots,” said Flo.
“I bet those weddings do get stressful,” said Tommie with a whistle. “Sometimes someone will call me up to do some baking for one. I’ll do some cakes or some tea sandwiches or something like that. But dealing with those brides is some kind of stress. They’re little ego monsters, they are.”
“See, you shouldn’t have told me you do weddings, Tommie!” Flo gave a wide grin. “Now that your secret is out, I might get in a pinch and have to give you a call. And things do get pinched sometimes, believe me. You wouldn’t believe the caterers who just don’t show up for a reception. No call, no nothing! Just didn’t feel like crawling out of the bed that morning, I guess.”
Lulu could tell Flo was starting to get worked up again. “Come on, Flo. Let’s check out the Chic Clique. Sounds like you have some stress that needs to be worked out, too.”
Lulu had, at first, felt just a little bit uncomfortable going into the spa. She’d originally thought she was just going over to Evelyn’s to share some ribs with her friends. She smoothed her bright floral dress selfconsciously. With her carelessly twisted-up hair bun, hit-and-miss approach to makeup application, and fondness for happy-looking print dresses, she felt just a little bit shabby when the glamorous young women at the reception desk greeted them.
But Lulu had to hand it to the staff at the Chic Clique Spa. They knew how to make you feel like a queen. The heavily made-up receptionist beamed at Lulu and Flo. “How are you ladies today? Having a special day out?”
Flo sashayed up like she went to Chic Clique every day of her life. And Lulu was starting to think that maybe she did. Come to think of it, Flo always did look just perfectly turned out. Lulu thought she just spent a lot of time on her appearance in the morning, but maybe she came to places like these every once in a while.
“We are having a special day, actually,” she said with a quick smile for the receptionist, whose gilded nametag said “Brittany.” “We’re here meeting a friend of ours, too. Evelyn Wade.”
“Oh! Mrs. Wade. Yes, she’s one of our favorite guests. She’s just finishing up a treatment, I think. I’ll check and see where she is now. And ladies, we are running a special for our guests today on salt glows. I know that’s what Mrs. Wade started out with today.” Brittany noticed Lulu’s confused frown. “It’s wonderful. You’d just love it. It’s a sea salt rub. It exfoliates you and just takes all those tired cells off. It’s heaven.”
Lulu thought it sounded just a little uncomfortable for her. She was about to pooh-pooh the whole thing when Flo stepped in. “I think, since we’ve joined our friend so late today, you know, that we’ll just stick to the basics. Is Evelyn going to end up with a manicure and pedicure?”
It just so happened, Brittany assured her, that she was going to. Right after her massage therapy. Flo lifted up her hand like she was in a classroom. “Me! Right here. You can sign me up right now.”
And so it happened that Lulu reluctantly found herself being led up a curving staircase to a luxurious changing room, where she put on the thickest white robe she’d ever seen in her life. She felt like she’d followed Alice through the looking glass. “Herbal tea?” asked an attendant, when Lulu stepped out into the hall. Lulu shook her head and smiled.
Flo was already robed and waiting for Lulu on a bench outside one of the treatment rooms. “You are just going to love this, Lulu! You’ll be a spa addict now—you mark my words!”
The treatment room had a waterfall at one end and was designed as a group room. Evelyn was already under a crisp white sheet, getting a massage. “Hey, girls,” she said in a sleepy voice. “What a nice surprise! A spa day with my friends. It’s perfect.”
Lulu said, “Well, we went by your house to check on you and bring in some ribs from Aunt Pat’s and Tommie said you were over here. So we thought we’d catch up with you here.”
The massage was unlike anything Lulu had ever experienced. The female masseuse was getting out all those knots and kinks from Lulu’s shoulders from years of restaurant life. This could end up becoming a habit.
Flo said in a muffled voice, “This is just exactly what I needed, y’all. Between my batty brides and my cat . . .” Her voice trailed off like she didn’t even want to think about it.
“What’s going on with your cat now?” asked Evelyn. “I told you that was one crazy critter. Don’t you know somebody who lives out on a farm or something? That animal would be loving life if he could hunt rodents on a farm all day.”
Lulu smiled to herself. The cat�
��s name was Dammit—for a good reason.
“Well, I don’t know, Evelyn. I love Dammit. He’s a good cat—he just does crazy things sometimes. Like yesterday—he jumped out at me from a doorway when I was walking down the hall.”
“I think that’s kind of cute, Flo,” said Lulu.
“Oh, it was cute except it scared the fool out of me. And I just happened to be carrying a cup of coffee in my hand. And wearing a really nice dress because I was getting ready to have a meeting with one of my brides.” Flo sighed. “Maybe some of the stain will dry clean out.”
For a few minutes the ladies enjoyed their massage, until Flo said, “Lulu and I—well, and all the Graces—were just wondering how you were handling Adam’s death. And to tell you we were sorry about it.”
Evelyn made a muffled sound of outrage. “Please! Not while we’re paying to be relaxed. We’re working out our tension and toxins! Later.”
After the massage, the ladies padded over to the nail room for manicures and pedicures.
It was there, after they’d picked out their nail color and were soaking their feet, that Evelyn said casually, “I trashed Adam’s condo yesterday morning.”
“What?” All the women in the nail parlor leaned forward.
“I did. And it felt great. The jerk. And I wasn’t sorry at all to find out that someone shot him, although y’all were real sweet to come over and comfort me and bring ribs and all.”
Lulu looked apprehensively at the manicurists. Evelyn waved her hand. “Don’t worry about these ladies. They know all my secrets, don’t y’all?” The well-groomed ladies laughed and nodded.
An elegant brunette said, “We wouldn’t be working here long if we spilled all the secrets we heard every day.”
“And we hear some doozies,” said a blond girl as she applied lotion to Lulu’s hands and forearms.
“They know I wouldn’t hurt a fly,” said Evelyn. “Of course, Adam was worse than a fly. He needed to be stomped. But I didn’t do it.”
