Hickory Smoked Homicide

by Riley Adams

  Lulu gaped at him a moment before remembering to close her mouth up. She was taking time out of her day to show him around Memphis and he was planning on featuring another restaurant on his blog? He was going to order dinner and not offer to buy her any?

  Before she could make a pointed mention of the fact that she was hungry herself, she noticed Marlowe Walter sitting by herself near the bar. She turned to tell Gordon that she’d be over in the bar when she noticed that he’d gone. Typical.

  Marlowe was happy to see her. “Oh, good—I was getting bored waiting for this potential client to show up. I’m still trying to find some extra business for the bottling company, you know. I guess this guy is running a little behind.”

  Lulu sat down next to Marlowe, and she talked a little bit about how the clearing out was going at Tristan’s house. “You wouldn’t have thought that Tristan would have been such a pack rat,” said Lulu, shaking her head.

  “She sure was, though. Every closet was crammed with stuff. That’s part of what makes me so mad while I’m clearing out her house. She was spending money that she didn’t even have—that was the bottling company’s money—on things that she didn’t even need or use. Some of the stuff she’d bought was still in its original boxes and obviously hadn’t been used.”

  Lulu hesitated a moment. “Marlowe, there’s something I wanted to ask you. Somebody told me that you were actually in town the night of Tristan’s murder. But you told everybody that you were out of town on a business trip. Even Steffi thought you were gone and had to end up staying with me when her mother kicked her out of the house.”

  “I was out of town on a business trip when Tristan kicked out Steffi,” said Marlowe with a sigh. “I was trying to scare up some new business for the company. We’d been losing accounts right and left. So, no, I wasn’t available when Steffi needed a place to go. And I feel bad about that.”

  “But you came back,” said Lulu. “Were you back in Memphis the day of the murder?”

  “The scheduled late-afternoon meeting on the last day fell through—they had something come up on their end, and they rescheduled the meeting for a couple of weeks out. I actually told the folks back at the office that I was going to stay at the hotel that night instead of driving back.” Marlowe shrugged. “But then, at the last minute, I decided I’d rather head back and sleep in my own bed. Besides, I’d been meaning to run by the salon for a while and hadn’t had time to do it. I got the last appointment of the day and slid by to get my hair cut. Then I went home.”

  “Not to your sister’s benefit?” asked Lulu.

  Marlowe snorted. “No way. Remember, I was trying to avoid running into Tristan. My idea of a good time after a long trip wasn’t to go see my sister. Besides, I was furious that I’d spent all that time and energy trying to build up the company when all she did was tear it down and make bad business decisions.”

  “So you decided not to say anything about being back in town,” said Lulu.

  “It didn’t make any sense to. I knew I’d end up being a suspect right away. Everyone knows how much I love Dad’s company and how angry I’ve been that Tristan has run it into the ground. Plus the fact that apparently Tristan was too lazy to update her will, despite all her posturing that Steffi and I were being written out of it. Steffi gets the estate, which we know was in terrible shape, and Tristan had a ton of debts, and I get the business, which is also in horrible shape and really worth nothing. But the police will say that Steffi didn’t know about her mother’s financial problems and so she still had a money motive—especially with Tristan threatening to write her out of the will. And the police will say that I wanted to get control of the company back so it wouldn’t go completely bankrupt. So I was a natural suspect. And—I knew I hadn’t killed her, so I was saving the investigators some time and keeping them from chasing a red herring.”

  Lulu said, “You don’t have any idea who did do it, though? I’ve been trying to make sure that Sara’s name is cleared. The police keep on coming back to question her—and I believe with all my heart that that’s a red herring for the police, too. I know you want this settled just as much as I do. Is there anything you can think of, Marlowe?”

  “Honestly, Lulu? I think most of the people who Tristan knew wanted to kill her. I’m harder pressed to think of someone who didn’t.”

  Chapter 13

  Marlowe’s client showed up right after that, and Gordon finally emerged from the Peabody restaurant. He seemed oblivious to the fact that he’d left Lulu to her own devices all that time.

  “So, what’s on the agenda for tomorrow?” asked Gordon eagerly. “It looks like it’s going to be a gorgeous day, so how about spending it outdoors? We could take the monorail to Mud Island. I want to see that scale model of the Mississippi River that they’ve got there. And there’s a couple of places to eat there, too, so I could review the whole experience on my blog.”

  Lulu was feeling a little sour about Gordon’s blogging now. She was spending all this time with him—and he wasn’t even covering Aunt Pat’s.

  “Gordon, I’d love to,” she said as sweetly as she could muster, “but my friend Cherry and I are planning on going to a beauty pageant tomorrow—out of town. My little granddaughter Coco enters them, so we thought we’d go support her.”

  Gordon, to Lulu’s horror, looked fascinated. “Now that is some real southern culture right there. Beauty pageants!”

  “Well, not so much,” demurred Lulu. “Only for those who are interested. Pageants, I think, are sort of their own separate culture.”

  “Will there be any food there?”

  Lulu sighed. It just wasn’t in her to tell a whopper on the spur of the moment. “Not usually. But I saw online that since this pageant is around lunchtime and is in a ballroom at a hotel, people are allowed to bring food in. It’s probably going to be a Crock-Pot city.”

  Gordon brightened. “Lulu, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll join up with y’all. I’ll take my own car and meet you there, since I might want to leave after lunch. But—it sounds very interesting!”

  Lulu was glad to make her escape from Gordon before the rest of her week got planned out with him.

  The next day dawned early—and rainy—as Lulu picked up Coco at Sara and Ben’s house, then got Cherry, and headed out of town to the pageant.

  “Coco, honey, I’m so glad to see you!” When they arrived, Colleen swooped down and gave Coco a pecking kiss on the cheek, leaving a red lipstick smear, which Colleen expertly removed with a tissue. “I didn’t think you were able to come. Did your Granny Lulu bring you, then?” Colleen gave that funny grimacing grin of hers at Lulu and Cherry. “And Cherry, I’m absolutely stunned to see you here today. I had no idea you were interested in pageants.”

  Lulu half listened as Cherry prattled off on her spiel on her sudden and intense interest in being a pageant coach as Colleen made little cooing noises of delight. “And I suppose you’ll probably start off with little Coco as your first protégée?” Cherry looked a little confused at Colleen’s Frenchified handling of the word. “I’m just saying that Coco will be the first girl you’re planning on coaching. Right? ’Cause I know she’s had very limited coaching. And not really from a professional coach, at that.” Colleen looked at Lulu reproachfully.

  “Yes,” said Lulu quickly. “I was a little surprised that Sara hadn’t gotten Coco set up with a real coach, seeing as how Coco is so interested in pageants and . . . well, in winning.”

  Coco actually seemed to have some major reservations about her “Aunt Cherry” coaching her. This was something, thought Lulu, that they should have discussed with her in the car. Except that the whole thing was completely made up anyway. “Aunt Cherry will be coaching me?” she said, tilting her head doubtfully. “What kind of talent does she have? Mrs. Pembroke was a great voice teacher, and she also knew how to play the piano. Can Aunt Cherry do anything?”

  Cherry looked a little put out at the fact that Coco had basically labeled her untalen
ted. “Oh, I have lots of talents, Coco. We’ll talk about it all later; how about that?” She changed the subject real quick, as Coco was opening her mouth to ask some more pointed questions. “Where is Pansy, Colleen?”

  “She’s off getting ready. It takes forever, you know. You should go catch up with her because Tina—that’s Pansy’s coach—is giving her some last-minute tips before she goes on. The last year or two, Pansy has gotten real serious about being a contestant. So you’ll hear that reflected in the advice she’s getting from her coach.”

  “Before I go talk to Tina, Colleen, could you do me a big favor and answer some questions for me?” asked Cherry in an enthusiastic voice. “I’m just fascinated by pageant life. Tell me about Pansy’s talent and how you developed it.”

  Colleen preened a little. “Well, we’re lucky because Pansy is sooo talented,” she answered. “She’s this fantastic actress, you see. She can play any part in any type of play—Shakespeare, Neil Simon, Arthur Miller, you name it. She plays the violin just beautifully. And she’s a fantastic impersonator, too! We have a lot of fun with that if we’re doing a comedy routine. She can do any voice. And she wants to go to this expensive performing-arts college—and we know she’ll get in. It’s just, well, it’s expensive. So the pageants are helping with the scholarship money, if we can get enough. So, Cherry, you’re not looking at a career; you’re looking at a way to help connect girls with an education! And a successful future!”

  Poor Cherry, thought Lulu. For a second, she’d looked like her stomach hurt.

  “I know it’s probably time to go get ready,” said Lulu. “Coco, honey, let’s go backstage, and I’ll give you a hand.”

  “Uh, Lulu,” said Colleen with a whinnying laugh, “There’s a gentleman walking up to us with a determined look on his face—and I do believe he only has eyes for you!”

  Lulu felt a sinking sensation and looked up to see Gordon making his way across the ballroom. “Yes, Gordon is a . . . um . . . food blogger. He’s new in town, and Ben asked me to show him around a little bit. He was real curious about pageants for some reason.”

  Cherry said under her breath, “Isn’t that a little odd? Men and pageants, I mean? I just can’t see my Johnny all gung-ho to see teenagers in sparkly dresses singing ‘Dixie.’ Especially driving all the way out of town into the country on a nasty, rainy, windy day.” She gave Lulu a coy look. “Or maybe it’s true love, Lulu!”

  Colleen looked a little hurt. “Cherry, I can’t believe you would say such a thing! Pageants are a lot more than that, like I was just telling you. Besides, many of our judges are men, and we couldn’t do all this without them.”

  “I agree,” said Lulu quickly. She certainly didn’t need Colleen to start acting all cool around Cherry and her. “I think the mention of food also interested Gordon. He’s trying to discover real southern cuisine, or so he says.”

  Gordon walked up to the group, and Lulu quickly introduced them. “I hate to leave,” said Lulu, “but I’ve got to get Miss Coco backstage or else she won’t be ready for the competition.”

  “Yes,” said Colleen, “you better rush, since the little girls go up first.”

  As Coco and Lulu walked out of the ballroom to the room next door that served as a backstage dressing area, Lulu heard Colleen completely in her element, giving Gordon and Cherry the lowdown on pageant talent, the different categories the girls would be judged in, and what might be inside the Crock-Pots along the back wall of the banquet hall. Colleen seemed to be tickled pink by Gordon and looked to be laughing at everything he said. Lulu was glad to have Colleen completely absorbed. She would have a chance to talk to Pansy in private for a few minutes without her mother hovering over her and editing everything that came out of her mouth.

  Somehow, Lulu had thought that backstage would be a lot more organized and a lot less chaotic than what greeted her and Coco as they entered the big room that served as a dressing room for the pageant girls. There were bags of makeup everywhere—makeup in every conceivable color, too. There were dresses and shoes and bathing suits and curling irons . . . and lots and lots of hairspray. The girls all looked at themselves with fierce concentration in mirrors as they applied mascara, adjusted straps, and controlled wayward bits of hair.

  “Let’s sit next to Pansy,” said Coco, clearly enamored with the older girl.

  “Coco!” said Pansy sweetly and stood up to give her a hug and an air kiss. “Sorry, got my makeup on already. I didn’t know you were going to be here today. And with your grandma, too!” Pansy smiled prettily at Lulu.

  “Is it okay if we sit beside you?” asked Lulu. “I don’t really know the ropes at all. Sara couldn’t bring her today, and Coco was dying to come, so I volunteered for the job. But now I don’t know what to do.”

  Pansy nodded at Coco as she ran off to say hi to a friend. “You’re lucky then because Coco knows exactly what to do. She’s a real pro at this. Besides, she’s not doing the glitz competitions—Sara’s got her staying in the natural ones. So hardly any makeup or styling. Natural—but pretty. And she loves every minute of it.”

  “I hope so,” said Lulu a little sadly, “This isn’t something I’d want her to do if she wasn’t crazy about it.”

  Pansy’s mouth curved. “That’s what makes you a better stage parent than my mom. I had to compete in pageants, no matter what.”

  Lulu frowned. “I thought you loved it! Your mama made me think that this was your favorite thing to do.”

  Pansy shrugged. “It’s okay. But it wasn’t my choice. I started competing in pageants when I was only a baby—and nobody can ask a baby if that’s what she wants to do. When I was Coco’s age, I spent my backstage time playing Barbies on the floor with Steffi Pembroke while our moms got furious with us.” Pansy laughed.

  “I didn’t know that Steffi was in pageants,” said Lulu slowly. She sure hadn’t won any, if that was the case. Bless her heart.

  “No, Steffi wasn’t in the pageants. But her mom was there coaching girls or judging, so Steffi got dragged along.”

  “That’s right,” said Lulu, nodding. “I remember now that your mom mentioned that y’all had hung out at the pageants together.”

  “Steffi and her mom would have gotten along a lot better if Steffi had been able to be in pageants. But Steffi wasn’t really pageant material.” Pansy said this in a very matter-of-fact voice. “It ended up making for some big problems between Tristan and Steffi.”

  A very thin woman with her hair pulled tightly back walked briskly up to Pansy. “Pansy, hon, you don’t look like you’re on your game today. You’re not ready. You’re white as a sheet—you definitely need some more self-tanner.” The woman, who Lulu assumed was Pansy’s coach, Tina, looked closely at Pansy. “Did you put that hemorrhoid medication under your eyes last night, like I told you?’Cause you’re looking like you’ve got some bags there.” Tina rummaged through Pansy’s makeup bag. “Here—put some Vaseline on your teeth so your lips won’t stick onto your teeth.”

  Pansy rolled her eyes. “Mrs. Taylor, this is Tina—my coach.”

  “Don’t get exasperated with me, young lady. I’m trying to make you the very best Pansy you can be. Now remember, when you’re doing your walk out there, I want you to act like you’ve got that huge crown on your head already. Got that? Just keep your head up like you’re balancing the crown up there. Look those judges right in the eye.... Be confident!” And as quickly as she’d come, she dodged back out again.

  Coco came back and started expertly brushing her hair. Pansy looked at herself in the mirror and sighed.

  “Wouldn’t your mother let you quit now if you wanted to?” asked Lulu.

  “Now I really can’t quit,” said Pansy, sounding a little bitter. “I missed so much school by attending pageants that I fell behind and never really got caught up. What I want to do the most is become an actress. I have a shot at it, too—I’ve had acting classes, I can sing pretty well, and I can act. But the performing-arts college that I want t
o go to is pretty expensive . . . and I’ve booted myself out of the running for an academic scholarship. So now all I can count on are some pageant scholarships.”

  Lulu said, “Your mama was telling me a while back that she thought you were totally cheated out of the Miss Memphis crown. She was upset because that was supposed to have some great scholarships.”

  “Not only that, but then I would have been able to be in the Miss Tennessee pageant. If I’d won that, then I could have gotten those scholarships. Then, of course, is Miss America. And this is all much bigger money. Without this pageant money, I don’t have a hope in . . .” she edited herself, looking over at Coco, “I don’t have a hope to go to that school.”

  “She said it was Tristan who was responsible.”

  “Tristan ruined my dress and stole my shoes. She was bound and determined that the girl she was coaching won the pageant. And she did! As soon as I was out of the running, her girl was the clear choice to win Miss Memphis. And she knew it. Tristan was right there backstage, and my hanging bag and shoes were right next to her girl’s stuff. She had plenty of time to mess with it while I was onstage for the casual-wear part of the competition.” Pansy stopped putting makeup on and looked at herself broodingly in the mirror.

  “Granny Lulu, can I have some quarters for the drink machine?” asked Coco in a pleading voice. Lulu fished around in her pocketbook for some loose change, grateful for the chance to ask some questions about the murder without having Coco listen in.

  Lulu cleared her throat. “I didn’t know Tristan very well, but it sounds like she was the kind of person who made a lot of enemies. Do you have any idea who might have done her in?”