“But Lauren . . .”
I suspected Lauren would purposely drag out finding him to make it last over the entire six episodes, and Dixie must have thought so too. “Yeah. I know. We’ll figure it out.” I stood and pulled her to her feet. “I love you, Dixie. We’ll do this together.”
“Thanks, Summer.”
I went back inside and ignored the irritated looks from Lauren and Karen. “Let’s give this another go.”
The third take was the worst yet, but finally Lauren called it good. “Time to head to the Dollar General to interview Otto’s friends.”
The Dollar General was part of an L-shaped strip mall. It was on the short side that faced the street while the longer portion consisted of the payday loan place, a nail salon, a Chinese takeout restaurant, and a pawnshop. The intersection of the two sides was a surprisingly nice grassy spot with a picnic table, shaded by the surrounding trees. It was easy to see how Otto and his friends got away with hanging out there all day.
After everyone got out of their respective cars and the crew prepared for the shoot, Lauren rolled her eyes and said, “Let’s go talk to a couple of drunk old farts.”
“They don’t seem very drunk,” Dixie said, leading the way across the parking lot. “They look like they cleaned up.”
“What?” Lauren stopped on the sidewalk, taking in the two older men sitting at the picnic table. They were dressed in short-sleeve, button-down shirts and ties. Their hair was combed, and they looked like two respectable members of Sweet Briar . . . the exact opposite of what I’d expected, and from the look on Lauren’s face, not what she expected either. “What in the hell?” She turned her accusatory glare on Karen. “What did you tell them?”
Karen’s eyes flew open in horror. “Nothing . . . nothing . . . ,” she stammered. “I told them we’d be interviewing them, and asked them not to be late.”
Lauren leaned her head back and let out a loud groan. “Let’s go find out what happened.” She marched over and stopped in front of them, putting her hands on her hips. “Gentlemen, I see that you’ve cleaned up.”
“Yep,” one of them said with a big toothless grin. “We wanted to look our best on TV.”
“I got this shirt from the thrift store right over there,” the other man said, pointing to the building across the street. A long scar ran down the side of his face.
Lauren gave them a look of strained patience. “We were hoping you’d look more like yourselves.”
“We do look like ourselves,” the toothless guy said.
“Fred,” Dixie said, putting her hand on his shoulder, “I think they mean like you did yesterday when you talked to them.”
“This won’t work,” Lauren said, throwing up her hands and spinning to face Karen.
They walked several feet away, and Dixie and I followed.
“What do you want me to do?” Karen asked in dismay. “Do you want me to mess up their hair and smear dirt on their faces?”
Lauren pursed her mouth as she turned around and studied them, and for a half second, I was sure she was going to take her up on it.
“How about we ask them questions and you can either blur their faces or we can come back later,” I suggested.
“Or we could just ask them to look . . . more like themselves,” Lauren said, waving to them.
“You’re seriously going to ask two old men to make themselves look like bums?”
“Yes!”
I stared at her in disbelief. “That’s insulting, Lauren. They’re excited that they’re dressed for TV. I say we come back tomorrow or a few days from now and catch them off guard. But we can ask them questions now.”
“We don’t need to ask them questions,” Lauren spat out. “Karen already spoke with them yesterday.” She shook her head. “Everyone go to lunch and we’ll meet back at the office in an hour.
I pushed out a sigh as we headed toward the truck. If this morning was any indication of how this show would go, I was going to need to stock up on plenty of wine.
CHAPTER SIX
After I parked on Main Street, we walked the half block to the café. Dixie opened the door and motioned for me to go in first. Walking into Maybelline’s Café was like stepping into the past. I’d spent a lot of time here when I was a kid, and even more on my trip home the summer I was seventeen. I’d gotten to know Maybelline pretty well, so I wasn’t surprised when she called out my name.
“Summer!”
“Hey, Maybelline.”
The elderly woman with shockingly orange hair waddled toward me and pulled me into a bear hug. “I was wondering how long it would take you to show up here. You’ve been gone too long, girl.”
“I know,” I said. “But I’m back now, and I’m starving for one of your country-fried steak dinners. We have to be back in about thirty minutes. Should I order something else?” Perhaps I should have for the sake of my figure, but I wasn’t doing the Alpha photo shoot, so maybe it didn’t matter too much.
A mock scowl scrunched up her face, and she pointed to an empty booth. “Order something else? You get your ass over to that booth right now. No more sass outta you.”
I laughed. “Yes, ma’am.”
Dixie grinned and motioned to the back wall. “Maybelline still has your autograph hangin’ up.”
I walked over to the wall and noticed my headshot photo from Gotcha! when I was seventeen, along with a small board tacked with pictures cut out of magazines and newspapers.
I read the autographed message on the headshot. Maybelline. You make the best biscuits this side of the Mississippi. XOXO Summer.
“You were in so much trouble with Meemaw when she read that,” Dixie said, shaking her head.
“Read it?” I laughed. “You ran home to tell her all about it that very afternoon.”
“Well, you knew she was gonna find out anyway.”
“I guess.” To the right, I saw some photos of another woman I didn’t recognize. “Who’s that?” I asked.
“Magnolia Steele,” Dixie said, looping her arm through mine and pulling me over to the booth, but I resisted, trying to get a closer look.
“Who’s Magnolia Steele?”
“You know, that Broadway star who showed off her boobs to the world onstage.”
I made a face. “That happens all the time in Broadway plays.”
“This wasn’t planned,” Dixie said. “She was the lead in a new musical, and she got into a brawl with one of the actresses. It was a big thing about a month ago. Didn’t you hear about it?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess . . .”
“You guess?”
“Okay. I did. Everyone did. What’s she doing on Maybelline’s wall?” Next to my photos?
“Her momma is from here. Lila Brewer, Lila Steele now. She’s Celia Brewer’s daughter.”
“Huh.” None of those names meant anything to me. “So what’s she doing up there?”
“The town’s divided on it,” Dixie said. “Half of them want her up there, and half of them don’t. And now Mayor Sterling invited Magnolia to be in the Boll Weevil Parade next Tuesday.” She paused. “But last I knew, he hadn’t heard from her yet.”
“The Boll Weevil Parade?”
Maybelline walked out of the back with two glasses and gestured toward the booth. “What are you doin’ gawkin’ at those photos? Get in your seats.”
Dixie and I hurried to our booth like we were chicks being chided by their mother.
She set two glasses of tea on the table in front of us.
“Is that sweet tea?” I asked.
She gave me a look that suggested I was an idiot. “What else would it be?”
“I’m gonna have to buy all new clothes by the end of the week,” I teased.
“You could stand to put a little meat on your bones,” Maybelline scolded. “You’re too damn skinny.”
“I definitely need to spend more time here with you, Miss Maybelline. But I’m worried I’ll end up looking like a beach ball.”
&nb
sp; “As if . . .” She waved her hand in dismissal. “It’s good to have you back, girl. I hope you stick around.”
“Thanks.”
I turned back to my cousin and smiled. I couldn’t believe that not only was Dixie sitting across from me, but she was actually happy that I was here. “I want to know what you’ve been up to,” I said. “Do you have a boyfriend? Did you ever go to college?”
She grimaced. “I broke up with Ryker Pelletier about a month ago.” She paused. “Or I guess he broke up with me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m better off without him,” she said, but I could see the pain in her eyes. “Teddy’s happier. He couldn’t stand him. He tried to convince me that Ryker was cheating on me, but I never saw it.”
“You know what, Dixie? You are better off. You deserve better than someone who cheats on you.”
She looked down at the table, then back up at me. “What about you? I bet you date all kinds of movie stars.”
I snorted. “I haven’t had a boyfriend in three years.”
“I can help you with that,” said a guy standing next to our booth. The glimpse of a police uniform out of the corner of my eye made my heart speed up—I remembered being wrapped in Luke’s arms that morning, his face inches from mine—but this wasn’t Luke.
“Cale Malone,” Dixie said. “What do you think you’re doin’?”
He laughed. “Tryin’ to hit on a TV star, Dixie. Luke got first shot with her the summer she came back when we were in high school. Now’s my chance.” I could tell from the glint in his eyes he was teasing. Mostly.
“Don’t you have something important to do?” Dixie asked. “Like find a doughnut somewhere?”
“Very funny,” he said good-naturedly. “You know I prefer bagels. I’m just pickin’ up some lunch. Luke’s got his panties in a wad over Summer’s new show, and he’s havin’ a staff meetin’ on how to deal with it.”
“Deal with what?” Dixie asked in disbelief.
“The chaos from everyone bein’ here.”
“It’s not my intention to stir up trouble, Cale,” I said. “We’ll only be here two weeks.”
He grinned. “Oh, I don’t have a problem with you bein’ here, and neither does most everyone else. But Luke . . . he’s another story . . . and I suspect it has something to do with your personal history.”
And didn’t that feel like a punch in the gut? Earlier, it had almost seemed like he still cared about me, but maybe seeing me had just thrown him off guard.
He turned to Dixie. “I bet you didn’t know that Summer and I go way back. Even more so than her and Luke. We were a year ahead of her in school, but the PE teacher combined the fourth-grade and third-grade classes for square dancing. Summer was my partner. She talked me into doing one too many do-si-dos, and I threw up on her shoes.”
“You’re lyin’,” Dixie said.
“Nope,” he laughed. “All she had to do was bat those baby blues and most boys would do whatever she wanted. Even back then. I was no more immune to her charm than anyone else.”
I shook my head and grinned. “You always were full of bullshit, Cale. Remember how you handled ruining my shoes in PE?”
A smile spread across his face. “I think I told you that you were too good for worn-out shoes.”
“I told my mother the same thing, but it didn’t work,” I said. “She just hosed them off outside, then tossed them into the washing machine.”
I had entered my first pageant when I was nine months old. They’d been my mother’s way of trying to break me into Hollywood. She’d thought nothing of spending thousands of dollars on pageant dresses and talent costumes, hairpieces and mouthpieces, but her habits hadn’t left much of anything for everyday clothes—not that I’d minded. Jeans and shorts and scuffed-up shoes had been fine by me.
Orneriness filled Cale’s eyes. “You gonna say the line for me?”
I gave him a haughty grin. “The only line I’m gonna give you is Fuck off.”
He laughed and turned to Dixie. “I spent that whole summer she was here trying to get her to say that line.” The smoldering look he gave me probably worked on half the town, but it did absolutely nothing for me. “One of these days, I’m gonna get you to say it and a whole lot more. Just you wait.”
Maybelline brought out our lunches and cast a glance at Cale. “Your order’s not ready yet. Have a seat and it will be in a few minutes.”
He started to slide in next to me, but she shooed him away. “You let these girls eat in peace, Officer Malone.”
He grinned. “She brought out the officer, so I know I’m in trouble.” He lifted his shoulder toward the back. “I’m gonna use the bathroom.”
Maybelline pursed her lips as he walked toward the hall. “That boy . . .” Then she set the plates in front of us. “I better not see any food left on this plate, Summer Baumgartner,” she said. “Or no more country-fried steak for you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
We were too busy eating to talk more, and Maybelline’s steak, mashed potatoes and gravy, and green beans were so good I didn’t even consider talking. Dixie’s phone started to ring, and she glanced at the screen. “I need to get this. It’s Teddy.”
“Okay.”
I expected her to take it at the table, so I was surprised when she got up and walked out of the restaurant. I hid my hurt feelings. I’d hoped he’d called to tell me hi. But as she went through the door, an older man wearing dress pants, a dress shirt, and a tie walked in. He saw me at the table and strolled over, wearing a bright smile.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” he asked, but he didn’t seem slighted.
“Sorry.” I stood and brushed some crumbs off my lap. I dropped my hand when I realized he was watching the movement with more interest than seemed polite. “I left when I was fourteen, so I’ve forgotten quite a few people.”
“That’s not entirely true,” he said. “You came back the summer you were seventeen. When Viola was ill.”
I froze, feeling uncomfortable that he knew personal details about my grandmother and me. Maybelline was one thing—I’d spent countless hours here—but I didn’t know this man at all.
He laughed. “Sorry. I just realized how that sounded. I’m Mayor Sterling. I’ve been mayor for about fifteen years, so I knew when you were in town back then. We had to deal with a few paparazzi situations.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling like a bitch. “I had no idea.”
“That was the plan,” he said. “We made sure they never found their farm. Your grandfather wanted to make sure you were never aware of the situation.”
“Wow.” How had that slipped past me? I’d probably been too wrapped up in Luke. “Thank you.”
“We take care of our own in Sweet Briar,” he said.
It should have sounded friendly, but the way he said it sounded totally skeevy. I nodded, trying to hide my discomfort.
“If there’s anything I can do for you while you’re here, Summer, please let me know. And ignore the naysayers, especially the police chief. He had his say about your show, and he was outvoted.” He frowned and shook his head. “Some people are just resistant to change.”
I cringed.
“Aww . . . I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t want to go spoilin’ your homecoming. Almost everyone wants you here. In fact, we’re plannin’ a parade. We’re just tryin’ to work out the logistics of havin’ it so close to the Boll Weevil Parade next week.”
“Dixie mentioned the Boll Weevil Parade. That’s new.”
“Sweet Briar’s gotten a whole lot more festive since you left.” He smiled and patted my shoulder. “But we may have to combine the two. Maybe make you the guest of honor.”
Good heavens. “Mayor Sterling, please,” I said, emphatically, “don’t go to any trouble on my account. Besides, I heard you already invited Magnolia Steele to be the guest of honor.”
“She hasn’t answered yet, so we need to come up with an alternate plan.”
“Aren’t you a sweet girl? Same old Summer.” He nodded in approval. “It’s good to have you back.”
“Thanks . . .”
“Mayor Sterling,” Maybelline said, walking out of the kitchen with a stack of plates balanced all over her arms, “you here for my mac and cheese?”
His face lit up and he winked. “It’s Thursday, isn’t it?”
She laughed. “So it is.”
Cale emerged from the dark hall. “That order ready yet, Maybelline? Luke’s gonna tan my hide if I’m not back soon.”
“Give me a minute,” she said, bustling off to the kitchen.
Cale and Mayor Sterling locked eyes, and I felt the mood shift.
“Mayor,” Cale said with an air of formality that sounded strained.
The mayor didn’t answer, just nodded, then sat down in a booth.
That was weird.
Cale headed up to the register to pay for his food, and I glanced down at the time on my phone. We only had a few minutes to get back to the office. Since we’d gotten off to a bad start, I didn’t want to press my luck.
After I asked Maybelline for the bill, I decided to make a quick stop at the restroom. Who knew when Lauren would give us a bathroom break? For all I knew, she’d decide we filmed better if we were kept in a constant state of slight discomfort.
The single bathroom was available, thankfully. As soon as I finished my business, I walked out, intent on paying, gathering up Dixie, and heading out posthaste, but something caught my eye. Someone who looked just like the mayor had walked out the back door.
I told myself it was nothing, but the way he’d looked behind him—as if making sure he hadn’t been seen—seemed strange. Add in his encounter with Cale . . . I decided to follow him.
Mayor Sterling had left the back door propped open with a brick. I stood out of sight in the dark shadows of the hallway, close enough to see but not be seen. The mayor and another man were standing next to a dumpster behind the pharmacy, one shop down. From their body language and their angry voices, they were in a heated discussion.
Deadly Summer Page 8
