The Stranger's Obituary

by Jessica L. Randall

  Blaise walked over to Doug and clapped him on the shoulder.

  “But our restaurant owner didn't hang up his apron. Once the smoke cleared he cooked up one of his famous Gut Buster Burgers and is ready to compete.”

  The restaurant filled with hoots amid the sound of clapping.

  Blaise stepped over to Bernadette.

  “And we have to mention the woman that made this possible for Doug. America's Sweetheart, Bernadette Fairchild, has had struggles of her own. What made you come back to Auburn, Bernadette?”

  Bernadette blushed. She was probably praying no one would mention her dog-dying past. But she looked straight at the camera, her composure regained.

  “Sometimes everyone needs to go back home.”

  The crowd smiled. She'd said the right thing. She usually did.

  “And Auburn has embraced me more than I could have imagined. It's reminded me who I was, and it's helping me figure out who I want to be.” She glanced at Doug, smiling shyly.

  Doug couldn't help wondering if it was all for the cameras, or if it was for him.

  Blaise turned to the camera again. “This crazy story is almost too much to believe. There is a lot at stake today. So let's not make Doug suffer any longer. Let's get the judging underway.”

  The bells tinkled on the front door as a silver covered tray was brought inside. Blaise lifted the lid to expose three tiny, perfect burgers in the middle of the huge tray.

  “Now, when it comes down to it, whether big or small, a burger is a burger,” Blaise said. “Since Doug's signature dish is a giant specimen that would make any red-white-and-blue-blooded-American's mouth water, I went in the opposite direction. But I guarantee you that size is no indication of flavor. I present my offering to the judges.”

  Doug shifted from one foot to the other as Tana bit into the tiny burger.

  “Oh,” she moaned. “This is delicious! I always say size isn't everything.”

  The crowd laughed.

  Susan was next.

  “I can't tell you how honored we are to have you visit our town, Blaise.” Her lips curved up. “A little culture and sensitivity to the delicate details is something I think is missing in the go-big or go-home mentality.”

  She took a bite of the burger, rolling her eyes as if it were the most stupendous morsel to grace her sour mouth.

  Finally, Oscar tasted his burger. Doug squinted his eyes, watching his face closely. The seconds ticked by. Slowly the muscles in his face relaxed. He liked it. It wasn't a surprise, really. Whether he won or lost, the judges almost always enjoyed whatever Blaise cooked.

  A camera man nodded to Doug. This was it.

  Doug picked up the three white diner plates, each holding a third of a Gut Buster. He concentrated on not tripping on his long walk to the judges table, feeling the cameras on him the entire way. He backed away as Tana took a bite.

  “Oh, Mr. Baxter, this beast is a beauty! A man's man who can cook. What are you doing after the show?”

  Everyone laughed as Doug felt heat creep up his neck. He glanced at Bernie, who lifted her chin as she stared down Tana. He knew her well enough to be certain she didn't care for the woman.

  Susan was next. Doug caught her glaring at Tana as if she'd like to stab her with her spiky earrings. He watched with interest, not sure what being on the receiving end of such animosity from those two particular women at the same time could do to a person. He chuckled. Maybe that's what set off The Curse; although he was pretty sure Bernie never really hated him, even though he'd teased her relentlessly.

  Susan took a bite, chewing it and swallowing hard without an ounce of pleasure on her face. She shrugged.

  Blaise looked back and forth between Susan and Doug as if trying to read the rest of the story.

  Doug shook his head, his eyes rolling upward as if to answer it would be too much to explain.

  Doug shook off Susan's display. Oscar had been known to go either way, but he favored Blaise more often than not. There was nothing to do but watch Oscar's face and wait for the verdict.

  He leaned forward as Oscar took his bite. Just as he began to chew a camera man moved forward, obscuring Doug's view. He couldn't see his face!

  The camera man moved back, but it was too late. The moment was over. Doug clenched his jaw. He felt Bernie's fingers wrap around his. She smiled at him, and he exhaled.

  The judges glanced at their cards, then chose one without allowing it to be seen.

  “Tana,” Blaise said, “you're first.”

  “I enjoyed the blend of flavors in Blaise's patty,” she gave him a wink, “but I've been won over by the robust, hearty experience of the Gut Buster Burger. She flashed the card that read “Doug”. “I'm Doug's new greatest fan.” She gave him a sultry look that made him glance around as if he'd been caught doing something very wrong.

  Susan lifted her card. No one looked surprised that it was in favor of Blaise.

  “No contest. You know, you should consider opening up a place here. Auburn is a very welcoming town.” She turned, crossing her legs so her skirt slid up slightly.

  Blaise raised his brows. “Okay, Oscar, old friend, looks like it's up to you to break the tie.”

  “This was a tough one for me,” Oscar said, lacing his fingertips together. “Blaise's burger was sophisticated, the unexpected spices intriguing. But Doug's burger tasted like a baseball game and fireworks on the Fourth of July.” He chuckled. “Okay, it tasted like quality beef with bacon topped with the perfect cheese.” He plucked his card from the table and turned it. “I like a good old-fashioned burger. Doug has my vote today.”

  A deafening cheer rose from the diner, and everyone was in motion. Doug forgot all about the cameras as his regulars patted him on the back and his neighbors grinned, pride stretched across their faces. He turned to Bernie. When she threw her arms around his neck, laughing, he got carried up in the excitement of it all. He spun her around, and the shouts grew louder.

  When he stopped, the room continued to spin. Bernie's face was inches from his. He was sure she leaned in. It was as if all the people and all the noise blurred together, just background. What the heck. He could take one more chance today. Maybe his luck had changed.

  He was close enough to smell her cherry lip-gloss when the room went quiet. Bernie's eyes darted to the door, and she gasped.

  As she stepped back, Doug followed her gaze, as did the cameras. Evan Locke stood in the doorway, looking like a Porsche in the middle of a tractor pull.

  Chapter 20

  A Nine Letter Word for Meddle

  Mina pushed a couple of diner tables together and grabbed some extra chairs so all of the ladies would fit. Doug had agreed to let the ladies come in an hour early so they could have the place to themselves. Mina hadn't planned on joining the Society again, but Gladys called and insisted she come to their breakfast meeting. Apparently, Mina was an official member of the Obituary Society now, whether she liked it or not.

  It wasn't that she disliked any of the ladies, it was just that she'd been avoiding people, especially groups of them, for so long. Luckily, Bernie had been on her way to the diner too. She'd agreed to sit down with them as soon as Doug could spare her so Mina would feel more at ease.

  When they'd entered the restaurant, everything was sparkling.

  “Doug,” Bernie called into the kitchen, “you promised to let me help clean all of this up.”

  Mina cranked her head, curious how Doug would react to Evan's appearance last night. There was so much to talk about when Bernie finally got home the night before. Mina hadn't been able to press Bernie about her feelings for Evan or Doug.

  Doug emerged from the back, rubbing his neck as if it ached. His dark hair looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, but Mina thought it was more likely he'd never got in it.

  “Couldn't sleep after yesterday's ... excitement.” He gave the ladies a watered-down smile. “You let me know when you're ready to order.”

  Bernie's brow wrinkled as she
stared at Doug, who nodded to her and trudged back into the kitchen.

  Mina hurried over to her.

  “What happened last night? You never told me what Doug said about Evan showing up.”

  “Nothing. We didn't exactly have a quiet moment with so much going on. Evan walked in like a prince here to rescue me. And there were cameras on us the rest of the night. When things calmed down I offered to help Doug clean up, hoping we'd have a chance to talk. He said I needed to get some rest, we'd clean up in the morning.”

  Mina wondered what Bernie would have said to Doug, but before she could ask, Leona Bell took Mina's arm, pulling her to the group.

  “After the meeting,” she whispered, “I need to talk to you. I've found some information that might help you out—about you-know-what.”

  Mina glanced around, hoping no one else had heard. So far she still hadn't found anything that might get rid of Bernie's mother's ghost.

  Ada called out, “First order of business. Anyone have any obituaries they'd like to share?”

  Mina waved Bernie over to the group, and they took two seats Gladys had saved for them as the ladies fished through their purses.

  Matilda Bell opened a neatly folded newspaper clipping.

  “I have one for John. P. Henderson from Beatrice. My cousin mailed it to me because he was her husband's younger brother. He died of surgery complications. I just thought it would be nice to remember him.”

  “He was a handsome man,” Leona added. “I remember I asked my cousin Leslie to set me up on a date with him once, but she said I wasn't his type. He married that really shy girl from Lincoln, I can't remember her name.”

  Gladys pulled a newspaper clipping from her purse and spread it out on the table. Everyone looked at her as if waiting for her to speak. But she shrugged and pulled out a pen.

  “What? I started doing these crossword puzzles and I'm addicted. Besides, the Omaha paper has a contest. You can win a trip to Italy.”

  Betsy Barker rolled her eyes.

  “I'll just say what everyone else is thinking. What we really want to know is what happened in that alley, Bernie.” Betsy had called the night before to ask the same question, and Mina had been so worried she'd nearly paced a rut in the floor waiting for Bernie to come home.

  Bernie stiffened in her chair, and Mina held her breath. Mina wouldn't let Bernie go to bed last night until she told her all about what happened. And she'd told her the story she'd given Frank and the others, as well as the one that involved a heavy skillet cracking that creep on the back of the head all on its own. The fact that Bernie had confided in her would have made Mina ecstatic, were it not for the fact that her sister was attacked and there was still a ghost following her around.

  Bernie had been so pale, just talking about it, her hands gripping the hot chocolate Mina made for her when she'd finally come home. She thought she was going crazy. Mina had felt so guilty, knowing exactly what had happened. But she couldn't tell Bernie that the ghost of her real mother, who was killed by the only father figure she had in defense of the woman who had kidnapped her was responsible. It would take a lot more than cocoa to get her to spill all of that.

  Every curious eye was on Bernie, but after an awkward moment Gladys said, “What's a five letter word for mind your business?”

  Betsy shot Gladys a dirty look.

  “What about Evan Locke? I about died when he walked in looking like, well, like a movie star.”

  Doug came out and plunked cups of coffee on the table.

  “You're not going to take him back are you?” Betsy asked.

  From the corner of her eye Mina saw Doug pause on the way to the kitchen. It seemed like everyone had been waiting for the chance to ask Bernie that.

  Mina didn't like to think about Bernie leaving, but it was crazy to think her sister would abandon her glamorous life in California for a place like this. Mina could no more make her stay here than Bernie could make Mina leave.

  “We've read the tabloids,” Betsy said.

  “You can't believe everything you read,” Bernie answered.

  “We'd only have to believe a tenth of it to know you're too good for him.” Betsy wasn't one for backing off.

  “What's a nine letter word for relentless?” Gladys asked, but she glanced at Bernie. “She's right, dear,” she added quietly.

  “Whatever I do, you'll be able to read all about it soon,” Bernie said. “But maybe you should be asking Mina about that reporter she disappeared into the Parker barn with a while back.”

  Mina's skin burned. She glared at Bernie, who shrugged as if to say that the only way to save herself was to pull Mina in and climb on top of her.

  “Ooh, the tall one that takes all the pictures?” Leona asked.

  “I'm not interested in Calvin,” Mina said shortly.

  “That's too bad,” Gladys said, studying her crossword. “He's a little rough around the edges, but I like that young man. Don't you think everyone needs a second chance?”

  “I can't trust him. Did you know someone sabotaged my blog, Gladys? He says he didn't do it, and I tried to believe him, but I've been thinking it over. Who else could it have been? Who else knew?”

  Gladys cleared her throat. She set down her pen and slowly raised her eyes to meet Mina's.

  “I knew.”

  “You?” Mina's head spun, like when she rode the Tilt-a-Whirl as a kid. “You wouldn't—”

  “Mina, hear me out. Before your mother died, I made her a promise. She asked me to make sure you didn't let your life pass you by. I've tried to get you out of that house all these years, but I was getting desperate. Bernie came back and that shook things up a little. I thought I had to do something more to tip the tower. Push you out.”

  “If anything, it did the opposite.”

  “I don't know. I saw you riding in a car in the parade.”

  “Oh, I remember that,” Leona said. “That was so sweet.”

  “But that was—I stay here for a reason.”

  “I know all about that,” Gladys said, her voice suddenly firm. “But your mother found a way around that once. The future’s not written in stone.” Gladys tipped her head slightly toward Bernie. Her mother had told Gladys about Bernie. Of course she had.

  “Or you could stay in this town and live,” Gladys continued. “Instead you're becoming part of that house. Every time I come by I think I might find you fixed to the floor, or blending in with the walls. You're not just afraid of an accident, you're afraid of getting hurt—by people.”

  Mina's eyes stung. She wished she could disappear as everyone stared at her. Bernie took her hand. It felt strange, but she was glad for the support.

  Gladys brushed away a tear and sniffed, staring at her crossword puzzle again.

  “I'm not sure what I did was the right thing. But I just wanted more for you. I hope you can forgive me.”

  As Mina sat, unable to move her mouth, the diner door rattled.

  They turned to see Evan Locke shaking it, shading his eyes to get a look inside.

  Doug came out of the kitchen, but stopped short when he saw who it was.

  Bernie looked to Doug. When it was apparent he wasn't letting Evan in, she sighed and went to the door, pulling a key out of her pocket.

  Evan gave Bernie a kiss.

  “I thought you'd be here.” His gaze passed around the room, ending at Doug. “There's a face I know. Congratulations on the win last night.” He shook Doug's hand. “That ought to keep things going here when you lose your star waitress.”

  Doug set his jaw, and his fists clenched at his sides.

  Bernie pulled Evan over to the group.

  “Evan, this is Leona, Matilda, Betsy, Ada, Gladys, and my sister Mina.”

  “What's a three letter word that means attractive?” Leona said out of the side of her mouth.

  “It's a pleasure to meet you, ladies. And Mina, I've been waiting for years to make your acquaintance. I'm so glad the day has finally come.”

  M
ina still felt like she'd been smacked in the face, and the numbness was just beginning to tingle. She faked a smile the best she could and let him shake her hand.

  “It's been charming to meet you all. I'm so glad to know my Bernadette has had good people looking out for her.”

  He turned to Doug.

  “Hey, could you throw a couple of those pastries in a bag for us? Bernadette and I would like to take them to go. We have a lot to talk about, and we could use some privacy, if you know what I mean.”

  “Evan—” Bernie started.

  “Don't worry about it, Bernie,” Doug said, his voice gruff but quiet. He grabbed the tongs. “We both knew you couldn't stick around here forever. You've done enough for me. We're more than even.”

  Doug’s tone was sincere, and the look he gave Bernie was kind in a heart-breaking kind of way. Bernie looked like she was going to cry.

  “Bernie?” Evan said, brows raised. “Isn't that a man's name?” He chuckled and took the bag Doug handed him, and they walked out the door.

  Chapter 21

  Plenty of Bark but No More Bite

  Susan Walters slammed the door of her SUV and clacked up the walk to Ada Foster's house.

  She'd never been proud of what she'd done. She'd been desperate to pay the bills for her mother's care when her health deteriorated. And then when her mother told her that story, well, Susan never was one for letting opportunity pass by.

  And why should someone get away with murder? Just because Frank was the sheriff meant he was above the law? She'd once heard someone say Christa Fairchild could get away with murder. Only a few people in this town knew that she had.