Class Reunions Are Murder

by Libby Klein

  “What’s the matter?”

  She snuffled. “Six generations of McAllisters have lived in this house and I’m going to be the one to lose it.”

  I sat across from her. “What are you talking about?”

  “They’re coming for me. I don’t know why and I can’t stop them.”

  I put one hand over hers. “Hey. We’ll figure something out. Let’s not give up hope just yet.”

  Aunt Ginny gave me a wan smile. “I know you’re trying.”

  “Not just me. Frank is working on the legal end. And all of the neighbors want to be character witnesses.”

  “Well, that is something.”

  “See. We’ll get through this. And if all else fails we can have Mrs. Pritchard bring some of her homemade limeade to the hearing. That’ll get the heat off of you in no time.”

  Figaro sauntered in, eyed us both speculatively, and flopped over on his side.

  Aunt Ginny grimaced. “Lord Jesus, help us.”

  Chapter 34

  I woke up with Figaro breathing on my face. Sometime in the night he had climbed on top of me and was closely watching for signs indicating he would be fed.

  I rolled around and made a good effort to attempt my yoga poses. When I had given up all hope, I hit the shower. I had to wash my hair three times to get all the hairspray and gel out. I think the eyeliner was permanently tattooed under my eyes. Ah yes, the price of beauty in the ’80s.

  I got dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt that said, “Come to the Dark Side, we have cookies.” Then blow-dried my hair smooth and put on just enough makeup to not look like the Crypt-Keeper.

  It was time to make Gia’s muffins. I was dreading the moment I had to walk into Signore Hot Stuff ’s coffee shop. I made a fool of myself in front of him and his girlfriend last night and I didn’t need a reminder of the shame. I had been out of the dating pool, and every other pool that didn’t involve the couch and the TV, for so long that I continued to underestimate my ability for humiliation.

  I whipped up some gluten-free lemon blueberry muffins and baked them in giant Texas tins. They were the equivalent of three regular muffins, but no one bought the small ones anymore. When they were done baking, I made a batch of gluten-free strawberry muffins, but I baked a dollop of sweetened cream cheese in the middle. I couldn’t have dairy but I could live vicariously through Gia’s customers.

  “You’re up early.” Aunt Ginny entered the kitchen wearing a blue jean skirt and a pink short-sleeved checkered shirt tied up at the waist in a knot. She had on pink cowboy boots and atop her head sat a matching cowboy hat.

  “I couldn’t sleep any longer.”

  “Mmm, something smells good. Whacha cookin’ in here?”

  “I’m making gluten-free muffins for the coffee shop. You look like you’re going to a hootenanny.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re dressed head to toe like Daisy Duke.”

  “No. I mean why are you making the muffins for the coffee shop?”

  I stopped arranging the muffins in the basket and looked at her. “That’s the part you needed clarified?”

  “Well, I know what a hootenanny is.” She picked up a strawberry muffin and sniffed it.

  “Gia wants to offer allergy-friendly bakery items and he asked me to bring in gluten-free muffins to try them today.”

  “This one’s good. What is it?”

  Aunt Ginny had taken a bite out of the muffin.

  Okay, I guess I’ll deliver eleven muffins instead of twelve.

  “That one is Strawberry Cheesecake. What do you think?”

  “It’s purty good.” Aunt Ginny reached for a blueberry muffin. “Let’s try this one.”

  “I think they’ll be a hit but I still have to get them approved by Gia and his evening barista-slash-girlfriend.”

  “What time will you be home? We have that Moose Lodge fundraiser to crash.”

  “Is that why you’re dressed for the Wild West?”

  “They’re moose, not buffalo.”

  “Oh. Silly me.” I had two baskets packed with the muffins and it was time to face the espresso.

  But before I left, I needed to fill someone in on the dirt we uncovered about Coach Wilcott. I called the police department’s non-emergency number and asked for Officer Amber.

  “Fenton here.”

  “Amber, it’s Poppy.”

  “Make it fast.”

  “I just want to give you some information.”

  I heard her heave a disgusted sigh. “What is it, McAllister?”

  “I got an anonymous tip that Coach Wilcott has a stash of needles in his med kit, and he has an arrest record. He worked very closely with Barbie and there is no small amount of suspicion that something sneaky was going on between those two. We all saw him at the reunion, so you may want to investigate his alibi.”

  “McAllister, I pity you. Of course we know about Coach Wilcott’s record. What do you think we’re doing over here? And it isn’t anything related to the murder investigation. Now just stay out of it. Your days of freedom are limited. Better quit nosing around and enjoy them while you can.”

  The line went dead.

  So that went well. I shoved my phone in my back pocket, and grabbed the muffin baskets on my way to the car.

  It was early, and Cape May was just waking up. Kids were waiting for the school bus, shops were unfurling whimsical flags and lifting metal gates, and joggers were wearing a trench into the boardwalk.

  La Dolce Vita opened early to accommodate locals on their way to work. When I arrived, Gia was blasting Dean Martin and dancing with an imaginary partner while setting up the tables and chairs. Today, I was determined to remain casual.

  “Good Morning, bella.” He sniffed the air. “What did you bring me?”

  “Gluten-free muffins as requested.”

  He took the baskets, said, “These look wonderful,” and set them down on the counter. He got out the container of coconut-almond milk from the mini-fridge and heated a pitcher of it, then pulled two shots of espresso into warmed cups. To one he added the milk and moved it closer to me, the other he left straight. Then he gave me a wink and cut a blueberry muffin in half.

  On his first bite he looked very thoughtful, considering, but only for a moment. Then he gave an approving nod and said, “This is delicious. I would never have guessed gluten-free.”

  Aunt Ginny had said the same thing that morning, but when she said it I didn’t feel all giddy inside.

  “I’m going to put these in my pastry case with a gluten-free sign and see how quickly they move. How much do I owe you?”

  “Nothing. You haven’t let me pay for a single coffee yet. I’d say we’re even.”

  “No, your time is important. I say one dollar per muffin on top of expenses.”

  “That’s too much. You’ll lose money.”

  “Then I’ll add free coffee for life as long as you bring the muffins in every day.”

  “How is that supposed to be better?”

  He had a sneaky smile on his face and he shrugged.

  “What if they don’t sell?”

  “Pssh. Of course they’ll sell! They are delicious. But even if they don’t, they are still worth every penny.”

  “Gia, this is a terrible deal for you.”

  “Time will tell.”

  I was the one making out in this deal, but he got that silly cryptic grin on his face and started to whistle again, so I had that feeling like he was somehow getting exactly what he wanted.

  I was still contemplating Gia’s motives when little Nancy Reagan came into the shop. She appeared to be early twenties, wearing a red power suit with a smartphone glued to her ear. She bounced up to the counter.

  “I know, I know, right?”

  Gia stood patiently and politely smiled.

  She put the phone down and fluffed up her brunette bob with the red streak underneath where Gia could see it. Then she struck a seductive pose. “Heyyyy. I’m April.”

>   “What’ll it be, miss?”

  “Okay, I want a twenty-four-ounce, nonfat, sugar-free, extra-hot Milky Way Latte, extra whip. And ohmigod ohmigod one of those gluten-free Strawberry Cheesecake muffins. I could die.”

  She got right back on her phone, furiously tapping on her screen with both hands. “Hey, can I leave one of these posters in your window for Congressman Robert Clark? I’m like so supposed to be out hanging them up all over town before the fundraiser today, but if I don’t get a mani-pedi I’m literally going to die right here.”

  Gia gave her a warm smile. “You can leave it on the counter there.”

  She laid down a large poster that had ROBERT CLARK FOR SENATOR in big, white letters.

  “Ohmigodyouaresoawesomesauce.” Her phone vibrated and she snatched it up. “Yes, Kelly, Hi. Yes. Yes. Yes. I’m hanging the posters up right now as we speak. Yes, I agree. Very sympathetic. Yep, his wife died here. I’m on it.” She hung up, then dialed. “Kim, it’s April. Can I come in for a quick mani-pedi like right now? I’m meeting Ashlee there, but I have to be quick because my boss is being a real Cruella. Thanks, you’re the best.”

  Gia rang her up and took her credit card. She tore into the muffin. “Omigod. This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten in my life. Forrealzez.”

  “That beautiful lady over there made them.” Gia pointed in my direction and I looked behind me for the beautiful lady.

  April raised her voice and spoke slowly like she thought I was dimwitted or hard of hearing. “These are really good!”

  “Thank you. Your nails are beautiful, where do you get them done?” I couldn’t even see her nails, but I needed an excuse to ask some questions about Barbie and the campaign, forrealzez.

  “Oh, thank you. I go to Nailed It! on Beach Drive. It’s just around the corner.”

  “I’ll have to try them.”

  April turned back to Gia and made a face that I thought was supposed to be sexy. “And you, cutie, call me anytime if you want to hang.” She wrote her number in lip gloss on one of La Dolce Vita’s napkins and passed it to him.

  Gia smiled politely and said, “Have fun getting your nails done.”

  When she was gone, he rolled his eyes and tossed the napkin in a box by the register that was full of similar scraps.

  “You get a lot of phone numbers?”

  He shrugged. “Some. You know, kids. Tourists. Summer residents.”

  I had a feeling that list could keep on going for a while. “Well, it looks like I’m going to get my nails done if I want to eavesdrop on April and Ashlee.”

  “That’s sure to be riveting. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “Where else am I going to get a coconut-almond cappuccino?”

  That made him smile halfway around his face.

  Chapter 35

  Nailed It! was a storefront salon facing the ocean, placed between one touristy shop selling beachwear and another touristy shop selling beach towels.

  The bright red-and-gold room had a row of pedicure chairs with foot Jacuzzis on one side and a row of manicure tables on the other. Several bamboo plants were strewn about and one wall was covered with a rainbow display of nail polish.

  April was already seated next to another young woman I assumed to be Ashlee, and they were both wearing plastic baggies on their hands.

  A little Asian lady named Pearl greeted me, looked at my hands, and tsk-tsked. “Oh, honey, you haven’t had one a’dese in long time. You need deep treatment on your cuticles.”

  “Okay, if that’s what I need.” I started to head over to sit next to April, but Pearl had me by the wrist and dragged me over to a pedicure chair.

  “We do spa pedicure. Very nice. Sit, sit.”

  I looked longingly to where April and Ashlee were in deep discussion, probably about the campaign.

  “Well, I was just going to do my hands today.”

  “No. Spa pedicure very good. You like.”

  She began to run water into the foot bath, putting in some blue crystals that smelled like gardenia but looked like the stuff in the bottom of an aquarium tank.

  “Um, I’m not sure I have time today.”

  “No. Sit. You like. Not too long.”

  Somehow she had me sitting in the chair with my shoes off. I don’t remember rolling up my pants, but there they were around my knees. I had a bottle of water and the chair was kneading my back. Three other Asian women wearing matching purple smocks were standing in a row, smiling at me. Pearl was scraping my foot with what looked like a cheese grater and it was half a size smaller when she was finished. A fifth woman approached from out of nowhere and said, “You pick out a color.”

  “Pink?” I asked.

  “No. Too light. You need red. Red very pretty. You have boyfriend?”

  “No, no boyfriend,” I replied. I craned my neck to try to hear what April and Ashlee were talking about, but the water in the footbath and the hum of the massage chair were too loud. Didn’t April say she was getting a mani-pedi? If I just wait it out they should be joining me over here.

  “This will get you boyfriend. Red very lucky.”

  “Okay.” The massage hands of the chair and the bubbling water were lulling me into compliance.

  I was drifting away when Pearl asked me, “You want eyebrow wax?”

  “What’s wrong with my eyebrows?”

  Pearl squinted at my face while massaging my calf, then wrinkled up her nose and shook her head. “We do eyebrow wax. Your new boyfriend will like.”

  There was talk of further waxing that my boyfriend would like, but no amount of chair massage was going to make that happen today.

  What was taking April so long? She had both of her hands resting inside of glowing boxes.

  Finally, the noises were off and Pearl shoved the foam version of brass knuckles between my toes and applied the red lacquer.

  I could just barely make out April saying, “I have to get to the Moose Lodge to set up the tribute movie for the fundraiser. Kelly will kill me if I’m late.”

  Pearl tapped my leg. “Pedicure all finished.”

  I jumped up and duck walked over to the manicure table, but Pearl caught me and swung me around. “We do eyebrows now.”

  “But I don’t . . .”

  Pearl must have learned all she knew about pampering while guarding hostages during the Vietnam War. She dragged me into a back room. “You lie down.” Then she shined a spotlight in my eyes and applied something sticky like honey under my eyebrow with a popsicle stick.

  “Are you sure this is necessary? YEOW! Does the Geneva Convention know about this?”

  Pearl got five swipes. Two over the eyebrows, two under the eyebrows, and one in the middle. Then she rubbed a cotton ball of lotion over the angry pink welts as some kind of apology.

  I stumbled over to the manicure station and sat next to Ashlee. As soon as my butt hit the chair April and Ashlee stood up and moved across the room to the pedicure chairs. Are you kidding me?

  “She must be thrilled that Mrs. Clark is finally out of the way.”

  “That’s a horrible thing to say!”

  “What? She’s been pining for him for months. Here’s her chance to make a move.”

  “Pining may be too strong a word.”

  “You’re the one who said she won’t leave his side.”

  “I’m sure all campaign managers come out of the office buttoning their blouses at one time or another.”

  “Now you’re just proving my point.”

  April’s and Ashlee’s technicians started the water in their chairs and I had to lean back to hear them.

  “She may be the campaign manager from hell, but I don’t think she’s that low-class to move in on him before the ink on the death certificate is dry.”

  “We’ll see soon enough, won’t we?”

  Pearl tugged my arm to pull me closer and gave me a big smile. “Your hands will look very young. This will get you boyfriend.”

  April and Ashlee had changed the topic to R
ob and his lack of commitment when a sharp pain seared up my finger. I looked down and saw I was bleeding. Then up at Pearl, who met my eyes and smiled showing two rows of even teeth. “Oops. You have very bad hangnails. Come to the back. I fix.”

  “Come to the back of what?”

  Pearl had a death grip on my middle finger and she pulled me into a back room full of first aid supplies. She tsk-tsked and applied several potions and creams to my hand. Then she wiped it all off and stopped the bleeding with a squirt of superglue.

  “That can’t be good for you.”

  Pearl smiled and showed me both rows of teeth again. “See, I fix.” She dabbed oil on each cuticle with a basting brush and commanded, “Go wash your hands.”

  By the time I returned to the front of the salon, April and Ashlee were gone. Their technicians had started manicures on two new clients.

  I washed the lotion and oil off my hands. When I turned around, Pearl was immediately behind me. “Now we do the color.”

  I’d already lost all opportunity with April, so I would have to question her at the Moose Lodge. I picked a pale pink and got it past Commandant Pearl.

  “You finished. You pay now.”

  I paid Pearl for the services. She tried to get me to make an appointment to come back in two weeks.

  “I don’t know my schedule that far out and my next availability might be in ten-to-twenty.”

  Chapter 36

  I parked in front of Aunt Ginny’s and ran into the house trying not to touch anything with my wet nails. Figaro raced me up the stairs only to flop on the top one. I had to hop over him at the last second or he would’ve been smushed.

  “Aunt Ginny, I’m getting dressed for the fundraiser now,” I called out.

  It had gotten hot and muggy since the hurricane had swept through and taken the lovely breeze up the coast to Maine. I peeled off my slacks and changed into my brown skirt and a flowy peacock blue blouse. I slipped on my chocolate brown boots and freshened up my makeup. I tried to tame my hair down but it fought back. I hate New Jersey humidity. I went downstairs to wait in the foyer for Aunt Ginny. Figaro ran alongside me and dodged across me at the bottom step.