Cannoli to Die For

by Peg Cochran

  Jeannette took an empty seat, brushed at the crumbs on her top and shoved the rest of the doughnut into her mouth.

  Dotty clapped her hands together and smiled enthusiastically, her game face back in place. “Who’s going to go first?”

  Everyone tried to shrink in their seat while Dotty looked around the room.

  Finally she lit on someone. “How about you, Felicity.” She turned to face the circle of women.

  The woman Dotty was pointing at was an attractive blond in her late thirties who, by the looks of her, Lucille didn’t think needed to lose more than five or ten pounds.

  “Does everyone know Felicity Schmidt?”

  Lucille bobbed her head along with everyone else. She didn’t really know Felicity—but she knew who she was. Many years ago they’d worked a spaghetti dinner together at St. Rocco’s.

  Felicity left her seat reluctantly, looking in back of her as she headed toward the scale, like a prisoner walking to the gallows. She slipped off her shoes and stepped onto the scale, her head turned away from the dial.

  Dotty consulted the clipboard in her hands.

  “Tsk, tsk, Felicity, you’ve gained a pound. We haven’t been following our diet, have we?” she asked in a singsong voice.

  Felicity looked down at her feet and mumbled.

  Dotty put a hand to her ear. “What’s that, Felicity? We can’t hear you. Come on now, fess up. Was it ice cream? Hmmm? Cake? Chips?”

  Lucille began to squirm in her chair. Poor Felicity. Dotty had no cause to treat her like that. Maybe this Weigh to Lose program wasn’t so great after all. Maybe she’d try that raw diet everyone was talking about. One of the ladies at the Clip and Curl was on it—Lucille had seen her eating her lunch on her break, nibbling on carrots and celery sticks, her nose twitching like a rabbit’s.

  Although the Mediterranean diet had been a disaster—she’d gained five pounds—she had lost half a pound on that Paleo diet. Maybe she ought to give it another chance?

  Felicity finally mumbled something.

  “What’s that?” Dotty said, putting a hand behind her ear again.

  “Circus peanuts,” Felicity said so loudly everyone jumped. “I ate a whole bag of circus peanuts.”

  Dotty feigned flipping through the sheets on her clipboard. She turned to the assembled women and held out a hand, palm up.

  “I don’t see circus peanuts on the diet, Felicity. Do you?” She waved the clipboard in front of Felicity’s face. “I do see healthy snacks like fruit, carrot and celery sticks, plain low-fat yogurt.”

  Felicity scowled at Dotty, her fists clenched at her sides.

  “She looks like she’s going to punch Dotty,” Lucille whispered to Flo.

  “Wouldn’t that be great?” Flo said and Lucille gave her a dirty look.

  Felicity finally went back to her seat, her brows lowered over her eyes, her face red and furious.

  Dotty clapped her hands again. “Who’s next? Come on, there’s nothing to be afraid of.” She smiled, then whirled around again, looking at each of the women in turn. “How about you?”

  She pointed straight at Lucille.

  Chapter 2

  Lucille pointed at herself. “Me?”

  Dotty nodded. “Yes. Come on,” she said coaxingly. “There’s nothing to be frightened of.”

  Now she knew how Marie Antoinette felt being led to the guillotine, Lucille thought. She’d read all about it in history class back in high school. She couldn’t remember too many details but she was pretty sure Marie Antoinette had gotten in trouble for eating cake. She was awfully glad she hadn’t been born during those times.

  Lucille slipped off her shoes and stepped onto the scale. She put her right foot over her left—hopefully no one would notice the hole in her sock. She needed to pick up a couple of pairs next time she was at the A&P.

  Lucille cringed as the needle swung to the right, further and further, the numbers whizzing by like on one of them wheels of chance they had down at the boardwalk in Wildwood.

  Finally it quivered and stopped.

  Lucille stifled a gasp as the needle trembled between two numbers.

  Dotty made a face, her mouth in an astonished O, her eyebrows raised.

  “Well,” she said, nearly smacking her lips. “We’ve got our work cut out for us, don’t we, Lucille?”

  Much like Felicity had, Lucille mumbled something indistinguishable, quickly got off the scale and scuttled back to her seat like a crab trying to outrace high tide.

  “This is going to be a challenge, Lucille, and I love a challenge.” Dotty clasped the clipboard to her chest and clapped her hands together. “Did I tell you my wonderful news?” she asked the assembled ladies, looking from one to the other.

  They shook their heads in unison.

  “This little program I’ve created has been so successful that Oprah has asked me to be on her show!”

  She waited patiently while the ladies gasped and burst into the anticipated applause.

  “And I’m going to be offering franchises as well. If any of you are interested, I have some brochures on the table with our healthy snacks.”

  Flo poked Lucille. “She’s going to be raking it in. Everything Oprah touches turns to gold.” Flo lowered her voice. “I’m going to give her Dr. Hacker’s card. Some filler would take care of those lines on her face.”

  Lucille looked at Dotty. She didn’t think filler was the answer. Dotty had wiry black hair and a nose that was a couple of sizes too big for her face. Lucille suspected that all the weight Dotty had lost made it look even bigger, seeing as how her face seemed to have shrunk around it.

  Dotty went around the circle and the women all got on the scale in turn. Except Jeannette, who stared Dotty down and then walked out of the meeting brushing the remainder of the doughnut crumbs from her top. Lucille stopped herself from clapping in the nick of time, and when she looked around she figured a lot of the ladies felt the same way.

  Dotty’s face turned all purple like the sky does before a storm, but she quickly recovered and motioned toward the table where the food was laid out.

  “Help yourselves to some healthy snacks, ladies.” She walked over to the table, picked up the melon baller and waved it in the air. “You’ve got to get yourselves one of these. Don’t forget, food tastes better when it looks attractive.” She held up the glass bowl of cut-up fruit. “See? You can use one of these to make melon balls from cantaloupe, watermelon, honeydew or anything else you fancy.”

  The door to the room opened suddenly and a young boy in overalls streaked into the room. He ran up to Dotty and grabbed her around the legs.

  Dotty gave a pained smile and looked around.

  “Alva.” Dotty waved to a young woman standing by the door. “I’m conducting a meeting. Please take Dominick outside.”

  Dotty bent down and attempted to pry the boy’s arms from around her legs. He continued to cling to her saying mama, mama, over and over again.

  Alva snapped her fingers. “Dominick, come here, please. Leave Mama alone.”

  Dominick rubbed his face against Dotty’s legs.

  Flo sidled up to Lucille, a plastic cup of sugar-free punch in her hand. “That must be the au pair. I heard she’s from Sweden. Dotty’s neighbor Monica gets Botox treatments from Dr. Hacker and she told me about it.”

  Alva stood in the doorway looking like she was posing for a magazine, Lucille thought. She had on a filmy white blouse with wide sleeves. Lucille wondered if she ought to tell her the top buttons had come undone because she was sure showing a lot of very impressive cleavage. She had more meat on her bones than Dotty did, but it was in all the right places.

  She was wearing those leggings all the girls went in for nowadays. Lucille always thought they looked as if they’d forgotten their pants, but that was the style, Bernadette told her.

  “They get a new au pair every year,” Flo said, making a face as she drained the last of her punch. “This year it’s Sweden, last year it was Germany,
and France the year before that. All gorgeous, Monica said.” Flo tossed her cup in the trash. “Of course, you know what everyone thinks.”

  Lucille thought for a minute. “No, I don’t know what everyone thinks. Why should I?”

  “It’s obvious, isn’t it? Apparently her husband is quite good-looking and Dotty . . .”

  “Isn’t,” Lucille finished for her. “Still, do you really think . . .”

  Flo shrugged. “Pretty girl, good-looking guy. People talk.” Flo tapped Lucille on the arm. “I want to start shopping for my wedding gown. Although I’ll probably have to have it taken in after I finish the Weigh to Lose program.” She patted her stomach.

  Wedding gown? Lucille had pictured Richie and Flo standing up in front of Father Brennan in ordinary street clothes, only with a corsage pinned to Flo’s top and a flower in Richie’s buttonhole. Then maybe a lunch after the ceremony at one of them fancy restaurants in Summit. She hadn’t pictured Flo in no gown—not at her age.

  “A gown? At your age?”

  Flo stiffened. “Why not? I never got to wear one the first time.”

  “You were never married the first time.”

  “That’s why I want to wear one now. I saw some gowns on that show that’s on TV—one of them was sheer lace from here to here.” Flo put one hand under her breasts and the other at the top of her hips.

  Lucille clamped her mouth shut. She knew there was no talking Flo out of something once she took it into her head.

  Lucille looked at her watch. “I’ve got to get back to work before Jeannette has a cow.”

  “Me, too,” Flo said, looking at her watch. “I’ll call you after work and maybe we can meet at the mall or something.”

  “Sure, sure.”

  • • •

  Jeannette was sitting at her desk thumbing through Star magazine with an open pizza box next to her when Lucille got back to the office.

  The room smelled like cheese and yeasty dough, and Lucille felt her stomach grumble. Those melon balls hadn’t done much to fill her up. She could sure go for a piece of pizza right now.

  She glanced at the paper Dotty had given them where food was placed into three columns and you got to pick one from each column to plan your meals. It was almost lunchtime so Lucille figured this was the perfect chance to try out her new diet.

  She ran her finger down the fruits and vegetables row until she found tomatoes. Bingo. Pizza had tomatoes so that was her choice from the first column. She ran her finger down the meat and dairy selections. Cheese—perfect. She glanced at the pizza in Jeannette’s box. Good thing she didn’t order no sausage or pepperoni on account of you only got one choice from the meat and dairy column.

  Lucille ran her finger down the third column and found bread—limited to one slice. Okay, so she could only have one piece of pizza. That was tough, but she knew she would have to make sacrifices if she wanted the diet to succeed.

  She sidled closer to Jeannette’s desk, peering over the top of the open pizza box. There were two pieces left. Surely Jeannette wasn’t going to eat them all. Maybe if she stood there, Jeannette would offer her a slice.

  Jeannette stared at Lucille as she reached into the box for one of the last remaining pieces of pizza.

  Lucille watched as Jeannette took a bite off the end, the cheese stretching and stretching and stretching until Lucille thought it would break.

  Jeannette wiped her fingers on a paper napkin, leaving behind a red greasy stain.

  Lucille couldn’t stand it anymore. “You going to eat that last piece?” She gestured toward the box.

  Jeannette stared at her for so long Lucille felt herself break out into a sweat.

  “Because I didn’t have no lunch seeing as how I went to the Weigh to Lose meeting, and I’m starving.”

  Jeannette continued to stare.

  Sheesh, Lucille thought, she wasn’t asking for Jeannette to give her a kidney. Jeannette had no cause to look at her like that.

  Finally, Jeannette sighed and pushed the pizza box toward Lucille.

  “Thanks.” Lucille grabbed the last slice before Jeannette had a chance to change her mind.

  Jeannette watched as Lucille took a bite. And then another bite. It made Lucille feel like she’d taken food from the mouth of a starving babe.

  “Did you put the chairs back?” Jeannette said suddenly.

  “Chairs? What chairs?”

  “The ones you put out for the Weigh to Lose meeting.”

  “Oh. No, I didn’t. I was in a hurry to get back to the office.”

  “Father Brennan wants you to put the room back the way it was.”

  Lucille sighed and stuffed the last bite of pizza into her mouth.

  “Okay. I’ll go take care of it.” She grabbed a napkin off of Jeannette’s desk and wiped her fingers.

  • • •

  Lucille figured she didn’t mind all that much having to put the chairs back. It sure beat stuffing envelopes and having to sit there with Jeannette turning to stare at her every time she took a break.

  Lucille heard voices coming from the small room they used for CCD classes. There was some kind of meeting going on. She thought Father Brennan had said that the Alcoholics Anonymous group had changed their meetings to Mondays.

  Lucille went down the couple of steps to the church hall and pulled open the door. She figured she’d take her time and go real slow and maybe by the time she’d finished it would almost be time to go home.

  She walked into the room and was headed for the closest chair in the circle when something caught her eye—something that wasn’t quite right. She swiveled around.

  And then she began to scream.

  Chapter 3

  Dotty was lying on her back on the floor next to the snack table with a cannoli stuffed in her mouth. There was a nasty gouge in her throat and blood was pooling beneath her. Her glass bowl of fruit was in shards on the floor with melon balls scattered everywhere. Lucille picked her way through the glass and edged closer to the body. Dotty’s chest wasn’t moving, and Lucille was pretty sure she was dead.

  Suddenly she wished she hadn’t eaten that slice of pizza. It was repeating on her something bad. She put her hand over her mouth and staggered away from Dotty’s body.

  She had to get help, although she already knew it was too late for poor Dotty. Lucille hadn’t liked her very much, but still, no one deserved to die like that. Lucille began to shake. Dotty hadn’t accidentally slit her own throat. She hadn’t fallen on something and caused that great gash in her neck. Someone had done that on purpose.

  Dotty had been murdered.

  Lucille felt her skin crawl and she broke out in shivers. What if the killer was . . .

  The door to the church hall opened and Lucille jumped, her mouth already open in a blood-curdling scream.

  “Lucille, what in heaven’s name is the matter?” Father Brennan said, gliding silently into the room.

  He caught sight of Dotty’s body. “Oh,” he said. He clasped his hands together and his lips began moving in prayer.

  Lucille grabbed him by the arm. “We’ve got to get out of here, Father. The murderer might be lying in wait. We don’t want to be his next victims.”

  Father Brennan turned and looked at Lucille, his eyebrows rising up to meet his receding hairline. “Do you think this was random . . . ?”

  “Don’t it look like it? Come on, Father.” Lucille grabbed the priest’s arm again. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Father Brennan hesitated. “You could be right. We’ll lock the door to the hall and go to my office and call the police.”

  • • •

  Jeannette looked up when Lucille opened the door to the office.

  She stared at Lucille. “You owe me a dollar and a quarter for that slice of pizza.” She held out her hand.

  “We don’t got time for that right now, Jeannette. We gotta lock the door. There’s a murderer on the loose.”

  Jeannette let out a squeak that sounded like Luci
lle’s back door before Frank put some WD-40 on it.

  Father Brennan rushed into his office, and they heard him on the telephone calling the New Providence police station.

  Lucille couldn’t sit still. Every time there was a noise she jumped. She began pacing the small office, but Jeannette gave her a dirty look so she stopped. She could use something to eat—to take her mind off things. That cannoli in Dotty’s mouth had looked pretty good—it was the kind with chocolate chips in the cream filling. Lucille had always liked that kind. She wondered where the cannoli had come from—maybe that bakery Flo liked in Maplewood?

  Father Brennan came out of his office when they heard police sirens in the distance.

  “Lucille, I imagine they will want to talk to you since you found the body. Why don’t you come with me.”

  There was no way Lucille wanted to go back into the church hall, but Father Brennan gave her no choice. He stood holding the door open until she walked through it.

  Lucille breathed a sigh of relief when Father Brennan stopped just outside the door to the church hall.

  “We can wait out here.” He wrung his hands. “Who could have done such a thing?”

  Lucille thought she could think of a few people—the ladies at the Weigh to Lose meeting for instance. Dotty had been none too nice to them.

  If someone was going to off Dotty, couldn’t they have done it before Lucille got on the scale? She kept seeing the final number in her head. Maybe she should have weighed herself sooner so it wouldn’t have come as such a shock to her.

  The sound of police sirens grew louder and louder until the wailing slowly died away and then stopped. Moments later the door opened and two police officers rushed in.

  “Gabe!” Lucille said.

  She was sure glad to see her nephew—nice to have a familiar face around at a time like this. She figured there would be another familiar face arriving soon—and that one she wasn’t looking forward to.