The Saucy Lucy Murders

by Cindy Keen Reynders

  Suddenly the lights in the pub flashed on and yellow porch light illuminated the person standing in front of Lexie. Detective Stevenson. In all his lawman’s glory. And he did not look happy.

  Holy crap.

  Lexie stared in embarrassment at the high heel clutched in her fingers. She tucked the shoe behind her back, feeling like a complete dork. After a couple of gulps, she swallowed her hiccoughs. “Sorry.” She wet her dry lips with her equally dry tongue. “I thought you were someone else.”

  “Obviously.” Gabe folded his arms across his broad chest and inclined his head toward the pub. “What’s going on in there?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing.”

  He snorted. “Something’s up. Either Mac-Greggor forgot to pay his utility bill or somebody got hammered and flipped off the main power breaker.”

  “You’ll have to ask MacGreggor.” Lexie felt as trapped as a bug pinned on a science project board. She cleared her throat uneasily and glanced over her shoulder—still no creep. Looking back at Gabe she asked, “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be back in Westonville by now.”

  He ignored her question. “Is Bigfoot chasing you or something? You’re jittery as a field mouse in a snake’s cage.”

  Lexie swallowed hard. She’d have to watch herself around Deputy Dog here. There was no hiding anything from him. “I was just out for a stroll.”

  “By yourself?”

  She nodded.

  “And is it a common Wyoming custom to greet everyone you meet on your strolls by shoving a spiked heel in their face?”

  “Uh, no. Like I said, I thought you were someone else.”

  “Who?”

  Lexie shrugged. Darn it. All she needed was Westonville’s finest to discover she and Lucy had been asking around about Henry Whitehead. Stevenson would tell Otis for sure, and their plans would be hosed.

  Lord, she felt desperate. When she’d persuaded Lucy to help her with this investigation, it had seemed like the right thing to do. It had made complete sense for them to try and find out who had done poor Whitehead in, especially since Lexie was the last person to see him alive.

  Now her plan seemed insane and dangerous. Especially in light of the recent attack.

  Lexie leaned against the porch railing to take the weight off her throbbing foot. She hoped Gabe wouldn’t guess how much pain she was in. “One of the cowboys in there just got a little carried away and I didn’t like it,” she lied. “Is it a crime to party a little on a Friday night?”

  “For some reason, I get the impression that MacGreggor’s Pub and horny cowboys aren’t exactly your idea of fun.” A muscle twitched along his whiskered jaw. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were snooping around and asking questions about Whitehead’s murder.”

  With a deep sigh, Lexie leaned over and put her shoe back on her throbbing foot, then straightened and stared up at the tall detective. “You know, if you were doing your job, you’d have found out that Whitehead had plenty of enemies around here. Instead of following me around, you’d be checking them out.”

  Gabe raised a dark brow. “What makes you think I’m not?”

  “I’m still under suspicion,” she finally said, hating the pout in her voice.

  “You and several other people.”

  “But I don’t like it.”

  “You’ll live. Meantime, leave the murder investigation to me, Lexie. I’ll chase the bad guys, OK?”

  She nodded.

  Gabe glanced down. “Go on home now and ice that ankle. It’ll feel better in the morning.”

  Incredulous, Lexie intended to deny that her foot hurt. But the front door to the pub swung open and Lucy hustled out, a concerned expression on her face.

  “Lexie, wherever have you been? It was awful! The lights went out and everyone went crazy in there.” Lucy glared accusingly at her, support hose so tight her face was turning red. She smoothed down the front of her sad brown dress.

  Lexie shook her head. “I told you to come with me when I went to powder my nose. But you were too busy playing Mother Theresa.”

  “Why you ungrateful little—” Then Lucy noticed Gabe and smiled demurely. “Why, Detective Stevenson, I didn’t see you standing there. I almost ran into you.”

  He grinned. “Seems like lots of folks are running into me tonight. At least you didn’t shove a spiked heel in my face.”

  Lexie’s face flushed with warmth.

  “What?” Lucy asked with large, curious eyes.

  “Never mind,” Lexie said. “Let’s just go home.”

  “I’ll walk you ladies to your cars,” Gabe offered.

  “No, we’re fine.” Lexie grabbed Lucy’s elbow and steered her to her car trying hard not to limp. She decided to come back tomorrow and pick up the truck when her ankle felt better.

  “What on earth is wrong with you?” Lucy asked. “Wait a minute! I know! You and Detective Stevenson had a lovers’ quarrel. How exciting!”

  “Knock it off,” Lexie said. “We are not dating, therefore we cannot have a lovers’ quarrel.”

  Lucy’s face fell. “Then what were you two talking about?”

  “Nothing,” Lexie said.

  They didn’t say anything else until they got in the car and Stevenson had disappeared inside the pub.

  With a sigh of relief, Lexie leaned back against the headrest. “Man, oh man, that was a close call.” She pulled off her shoe and gingerly prodded the puffy flesh on her ankle.

  “For Pete’s sake.” Lucy scooted around in the driver’s seat in order to face Lexie. “How did you hurt your foot? What happened?”

  Lexie told her about the creep in the hallway, how she’d finally gotten loose and crawled out the bathroom window, then ran into Gabe Stevenson.

  “I’m scared, Lucy. Somebody’s out to get me. Probably they want to kill me, or get me locked behind bars forever. They must hate me pretty bad and I don’t like it.”

  “I don’t like it either, baby sister.”

  “Detective Stevenson knows we’re up to something. He basically told me to back off.”

  “Then we’ve got to stop this sleuthing nonsense,” Lucy declared. “Look at you! You were hurt tonight. It could have been worse than a sprained ankle, you know.”

  “I know,” Lexie said.

  “I think Detective Stevenson’s right. And I think he likes you.”

  Lexie rolled her eyes. “Whatever. But I still want to talk to Ernie and Sophie Howell. It sounds like they might know something.”

  “Alexandria!”

  “Stop calling me that,” Lexie said. “You make me sound like the Queen of Egypt or something.”

  “Listen, Lexie. We are not trained to do police work. We really must keep our noses out of this investigation. What if Detective Stevenson tells Otis we’ve been questioning people about Henry’s murder? I’m afraid he’ll be quite unhappy with us.”

  “Stevenson won’t say anything. I’m sure of it. He’s just cocky enough to believe the little ‘talking to’ he gave me tonight will make me back off.”

  “And it should.”

  “But how can we pass up the chance to talk with the Howells? Besides, they live all the way in Denver and no one would ever know where we’re going. We could be on a shopping trip.”

  “Lexie—”

  Lexie took her sister’s hands in hers. “Lucy, please. This is important to me … to both of us. I have to find out who hates me so much they would try to frame me. I don’t think I can stand waiting forever for the police to poke around till they find the guilty party. They have no reason to be in a hurry, but we do.”

  “What’s this ‘we’? Why are we in such a hurry?”

  “Akiko and Ian Fletcher came in for lunch at the Saucy Lucy the other day. She said a lot of people had heard about Whitehead and I dating—how I don’t know. We barely knew each other. But she said everyone in town’s nervous about eating at our place now. Like I’m going to do them in, too. It could be potentially disastrous f
or business.”

  “I never thought of it like that.” Lucy removed her glasses and polished them on her dress, then slid them back on. “That isn’t good.”

  “No kidding. You’ve got Otis to take care of you if the business fails. But I’d be out on my ear and Eva would have no money for college.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “Oh dear is right. I’d be up shit creek without a paddle.”

  Lucy wrinkled her nose. “Goodness gracious, the things you come up with!”

  “Well, it’s true. So, what do you say? Will you take a field trip with me to Denver to visit the How-ell’s magic shop?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  Lexie shrugged. “I could always go on my own.”

  “Over my dead body,” Lucy said.

  When Lexie got home she locked all her doors and windows, left a night light burning and sat wide awake in bed with her throbbing foot iced and propped on a pillow. She couldn’t stop thinking about her dinner with Gabe, the conversation with the cowboys at MacGreggor’s Pub and finally about the creep who had attacked her.

  Much as she wanted to solve Whitehead’s murder and assure her customers they had nothing to fear by eating at the Saucy Lucy Café, this amateur detective stuff was getting spooky.

  She and Lucy couldn’t let the attack tonight or Gabe Stevenson’s warnings stop them from getting at the truth. It was too important. Her life and livelihood depended upon it.

  At last Lexie fell into a fitful sleep, tossing and turning until she nearly gave up. When she finally did nod off, she dreamed of being chased by black-hooded phantoms clutching large butcher knives. It was a relief when the harsh jangling of the telephone jolted her awake.

  Despite the aspirin she’d taken last night to ease the pain in her foot, her head pounded like the California surf. Smacking her dry lips together and blinking in the gray morning light filtering through her bedroom curtains, Lexie sat up and reached for the cordless phone on her nightstand.

  “Hullo?” she managed, wondering who could be calling so early in the morning.

  “Lexie? Hi, this is Bruce.”

  “Bruce?” she repeated like a retarded parrot, the throbbing in her head slowly taking on jackhammer proportions.

  “Cousin Bruce,” he said with a little irritation. “Your Aunt Gladys’ son.”

  “Oh, that Bruce. Sorry. I’ve got a really bad headache today. Maybe I’m getting the flu.”

  “Ah, the good old flu. I just got over a bad case of it myself a couple of weeks ago. An Asian strain, you know. A real killer.”

  Lexie’s mind swam as she tried to recount the genealogy in her muddled mind. Aunt Gladys was her mother’s sister and Bruce was her son. Ever since he’d put a frog down Lexie’s shirt at the Fourth of July family picnic when she was ten, she’d never been able to stomach him. And to her knowledge, he only contacted Aunt Gladys’ side of the family when he needed something.

  Did he want something from her now? The idea didn’t appeal much.

  Lexie automatically tensed, dreading what that something might be. “How long has it been since we talked? About two years?”

  “Something like that,” Bruce said.

  Lexie yawned. “So, what’s the occasion?”

  “I need to ask you a favor.”

  Lexie did not like the way the conversation was going. “What kind of favor?”

  “I’m headquartered in Singapore right now. My company is working with some major investors over there and as district manager of the Far East division, it’s crucial I be around for all final business transactions. Those won’t be complete for about six more months.”

  “OK. What’s that got to do with me?”

  “I flew back to Denver about a week ago to visit Mother. She’s in a nursing home there and, unfortunately, she’s gotten herself into a patch of trouble.”

  Now Lexie was really tense. “Tell me already. I’m dying to know. How much trouble can a seventy-four-year-old woman in a nursing home get into?”

  Bruce cleared his throat. “Plenty. One of the nurses found her in a, shall we say, compromising situation with one of the male patients.”

  “Compromising,” Lexie intoned.

  “They were having sex.”

  Lexie laughed. “Means they must be pretty healthy. The medical staff should be pleased.”

  “Well, they weren’t,” Bruce informed her dolefully. “The nursing home rules specifically prohibit intimate relations between patients. So Mother’s been given the boot.”

  “They kicked her out?” Lexie was wide awake now. Aunt Gladys had always been eccentric and wild. Despite seven husbands, she’d never been able to settle down for long. But the family had always attributed her erratic nature to the fact she’d been a Las Vegas showgirl in her younger days and just couldn’t quite get the exotic flair out of her blood.

  “Mother and her, uh, boyfriend probably wouldn’t have been in as much trouble if they’d kept their wild romp confined to the privacy of their rooms. But they got caught in the act on the recreation room pool table.”

  “Goodness, that is a little bit exhibitionist, even for Aunt Gladys. But leave it to her to find an octogenarian Romeo.” Lexie raked a hand through her mussed hair. “So, why call me? What can I do?”

  “The rest home will only allow Mother to stay another two weeks. After that, she has nowhere to go.”

  “You’re kidding me? Can’t you find her another home? Hire a nurse or something?”

  “I’ve tried, but everything’s full and there’s not a private nurse to be found anywhere. I’ve got to be back in Singapore in forty-eight hours. I’m really in a bind here, Lex. Otis and Mother can’t stand each other so I don’t dare ask Lucy if she can stay at her place. Please, can Mother live with you?”

  “That’s not a good idea.” Lexie thought about her and Lucy’s amateur murder investigation. If Aunt Gladys came to stay the old bat would surely be in the way and her interference would compromise everything.

  “C’mon Lex, be a sport. I know it would be a major imposition, but can’t you help me out? Otherwise, I don’t know what I’ll do. I’ll lose my job if I don’t finish up with the Far East clients, and Mother absolutely can’t live alone.”

  Lexie felt herself caving. “Does she still start fires?”

  Bruce sighed. “When no one’s looking, yes. But all you have to do is keep matches out of her reach and make sure she takes her medication.”

  Lexie closed her eyes and gathered her strength. Aunt Gladys wasn’t just batty. She was a complete loon. A dingbat. A menace to society. “Bruce, I have no beds to spare. Just my old sofa. And I think she’d be pretty uncomfortable sleeping with springs up her butt for the next six months.”

  Not to be sidetracked, Bruce continued. “You’re still living in your folks’ house, aren’t you? Doesn’t it have an attic?”

  “Yes, but it’s full of storage.”

  “Clean it out. I’ll foot the bill to have the place renovated into living quarters for my mom. I’ll send you the same money for her room and board that I’ve been paying the retirement home. It’ll be more than enough to take care of her.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “You know your mother would want you to do it.”

  Ah ha. Leave it to Bruce to use the old guilt trip. Still, Lexie was suddenly ashamed of herself. They’d been talking about poor old Aunt Gladys like she was a sack of potatoes to be stuffed out of the way on a shelf somewhere. She was, after all, family. She couldn’t help that she’d lost most of her marbles long ago.

  Bruce was right. If her mother were still alive, she would insist Lexie take her in, no buts about it.

  Lexie also had to admit the offer was temping since she’d been stewing about the cost of Eva’s spring semester which was coming due soon. The extra money Bruce promised her would definitely come in handy. On top of it all, she’d get the chance to fix up that musty attic.

  “Sure, Bruce.” Lexie swallowed a hicco
ugh that suddenly rose in her throat. “She can stay with me.”

  “You won’t regret it,” Bruce responded enthusiastically.

  Lexie wasn’t so sure.

  CHAPTER 6

  TWO WEEKS LATER, LEXIE, LUCY, AND EVA stood in Lexie’s newly refurbished attic evaluating the improvements. It had been impossible to find wallpaper and carpet and decent furniture in Moose Creek Junction. As a result Lexie had procured everything in Westonville.

  True to his word, Cousin Bruce wired money right away for the project. The Carpinelli Brothers, who ran a local a carpentry shop, had done a nice job of renovation.

  The cobwebs, dust bunnies, and broken windows that had recently graced the musty space were gone. Boxes of Eva’s old baby clothes and toys had been stuffed into Lexie’s garage. The clutter was replaced by a modest-sized sitting room with a floral patterned loveseat and a reclining rocker with a lace paneled window to let in wide beams of bright, October sunshine.

  The Carpinellis had partitioned off a small bedroom Lexie decorated with an antique sleigh bed and oval-mirrored dresser, along with a night-stand she’d found at the county flea market. She also purchased a large wardrobe for one corner of the bedroom since there wasn’t enough room to install a closet.

  The Carpinellis had polished the original hardwood floors until they glowed a warm honey-pine color. Lexie placed hooked rag rugs in the living area along with a large carpet covered with old-fashioned cabbage roses.

  In one corner were a small drop-leaf table and two ladder-back chairs. A small refrigerator, microwave, and coffee pot sat on a butcher block in another corner. Ceiling fans with wooden paddles and antique brass accents hung in the sitting room and the bedroom.

  Deep in thought, Lexie chewed her lower lip for a moment, then said, “I hope Aunt Gladys likes this. She’s pretty particular where she hangs her feather boa, you know.”

  “Everything looks lovely, Lex.” Lucy placed her hands on her hips, nodding appreciatively as she glanced around. “Aunt Gladys is lucky she has such a nice place to stay after that fiasco at the rest home.”