by Riley Adams
Pink scooted his stool a little closer to Lulu. “Funny you should bring that up, Lulu. Because we’ve found neither hide nor hair of that notebook anywhere. Not in Dee Dee’s house or car or shop.”
Lulu frowned. “Pink, I promise you that I’m not making all this up . . .”
Pink raised a hand to stop her. “Oh, I believe you, Lulu. I think that whoever murdered Dee Dee probably swiped the notebook, too. And whatever evidence was pointing in his or her direction.” He paused as the waitress put his barbeque plate in front of him.
He opened up a packet of Aunt Pat’s secret sauce and squeezed it onto the pulled pork. “Lulu, think back. Was there anything that you can remember from that book? Anything that might help us figure out who’s behind all this?”
Lulu thought, then shook her head sadly. “Nothing that really stands out. Well, there were notes about Tristan having an affair.... But I think you already know about that, right?”
“With Loren, yes,” said Pink with a quick nod as he took a big bite from his sandwich.
“She did have an affair with Loren—but she also had one with Steffi’s boyfriend.”
“What?” Pink’s eyes opened wide. “That scruffy-looking kid that I saw on my way in? That’s hard to believe.”
“Well, Dee Dee made some notes about it. And I have heard from the boy himself that it was true. Who knows what Tristan was playing at, but the affair did happen.”
“And you can’t remember anything else?”
Lulu said, “No. And what really got her killed is probably whatever she wrote in there that she saw the night Tristan was killed. She likely thought she’d hit pay dirt, but instead, she was messing with something that was bigger than she was. And it’s too bad she couldn’t tell the difference.”
The stress of the last few days finally caught up to Lulu, and she slept like the dead that night. She was shocked to look at the clock and see that it was nine o’clock—Lulu couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so late. It was probably all that worrying about the case; things like that just wore on a body after a while. Lulu decided it was time to do something completely different for a change—housework. She hadn’t really done much to her house since Steffi had moved her things out, and it was starting to show.
The nice thing about housework, thought Lulu, is that you get that great feeling of accomplishment—and it’s a completely mindless activity. Lulu dusted her tables and her favorite figurines, vacuumed the house, and declut-tered. She remembered that she’d planned on getting rid of one of the tables that was in her living room. She didn’t need it, and she really would rather have something else there instead. She picked up the phone. “Sara, do you want that table in my living room for anything? No, the one that’s by the wall—it has a lamp and pictures on it. I was thinking I’d put a recliner there—seems like I’m falling asleep while watching the news more often than I used to, and I’m thinking about recliners that are good for napping.” Lulu turned the volume up on the phone. Maybe she was losing her hearing a little. “Sara? Sorry. You said no? Well, how about on the wall that leads into your kitchen? Oh, I don’t think it would block the pathway too much.”
But Sara definitely wasn’t interested in the table. “Lulu, honestly, I really don’t have any use for it, and it would really be more clutter for me. How about if you ask Steffi if she needs a table? I know she’s with Marlowe now, but she said she’s looking at apartments.”
“She’s got all that furniture from Tristan’s house, though,” said Lulu.
“Not according to Steffi. They’re planning on having an estate sale and using the proceeds from the sale of the furniture to pay off some of Tristan’s debts.”
Lulu clucked. “Poor Steffi! I’ll give her a call and see if she wants the table, then. How is she supposed to furnish an apartment?”
“She’ll probably check out consignment shops and yard sales, Lulu. Or friends who have extra furniture they don’t need.”
When Lulu hung up with Sara and called Steffi, she sounded really pleased by Lulu’s offer. “That would be fantastic, Lulu! I’ve been looking at some apartments that I can afford so that I can get out of Marlowe’s hair. She’s been great,” said Steffi quickly, “but I know she’s used to living on her own. And now that I have a boyfriend and everything . . .” Steffi broke off, embarrassed.
Lulu made a face at the thought of David. She was really going to have to warn Steffi about him at some point. But she wasn’t looking forward to it. “I’m sure it would be much better for both of you for you to have your own place, Steffi. No, you’re welcome to the table. Do you want to bring a friend to help you carry it out?”
“David’s working, I think. I’ll call Pansy because I know she’s not doing anything this afternoon. We’ll come by in about an hour.”
Despite the lack of a qualified piece of furniture for napping, Lulu found that she dozed off for a few minutes on her sofa. There was a light rap on the door, and she shook herself awake. Honestly, she thought with some irritation as she struggled to stand up, she didn’t know what was wrong with her. But she knew—it was stress from the murders and worrying about who might be behind it all.
She peeped out the front door and saw Pansy and Steffi there. “Hi, girls,” she said brightly. “Come on inside and let me show you the table, Steffi. Now you’re not going to hurt my feelings if it’s something you’re really not interested in—you just need to let me know, okay?”
“Okay,” agreed Steffi. “I’m sure it’s going to be fine, though. I’m not in a position to be picky!” She followed Lulu over to the table, which Lulu had cleared off before taking her nap. “It’s really pretty, Lulu. Are you sure you don’t need it?”
“Positive. I think I’m going to get a recliner for that wall, instead. With the way I’ve been taking naps lately, I think a recliner would come in handier than a table that I never use.”
Steffi and Pansy carefully lifted the table and took it out to Marlowe’s minivan, which Steffi had borrowed for the occasion. “Won’t y’all come in for a few minutes? I have some fresh-squeezed lemonade and some cake, if you’d like a little snack.”
Steffi looked like she was ready to leave, but Pansy said, “Sure! No way am I going to turn down homemade cooking from Lulu.”
The girls followed Lulu into her kitchen and sat down at her kitchen table as Lulu bustled around for the drinks and cake. “Pansy,” said Lulu, “you must be one of those lucky people who can eat anything and not gain any weight.”
Pansy laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far, but I don’t gain a whole lot, no.”
Steffi sighed. “Wish that was the case for me. Everything I eat seems like it goes right to my hips. And all I’ve wanted to do since all this started is to eat.”
Lulu said sympathetically, “Oh, honey, believe me, I know! That’s the way I am, too. I’ll head off to the kitchen anytime I start worrying about things. It’s hard not to, isn’t it?” She filled the glasses with ice. “You haven’t heard anything from the police, have you? About how the investigation is going?”
“No, I sure haven’t. I hope they find somebody soon. I just can’t stop thinking about Mother. I think it’s gotten worse in the last few days. I’ve even been dreaming about her. In the dream she’s been killed, but she’s somehow still talking to me—with that awful crown on her head.” Steffi shuddered.
Lulu shivered. “What an awful dream to have! Well, try to put it out of your head for right now—have a little slice of cake. This is my famous Lady Baltimore cake. I know a lot of people think they won’t like a cake with fruit in it, but it’s not fruitcake. Give it a try.”
Steffi took a big bite right away, but Pansy was a little more cautious after the word “fruit” was used. Both of them lit up, though, after they tasted it. “It’s delicious,” sighed Pansy.
“This is why you should have been cooking on Bunko night,” said Steffi. “I mean, I love Cherry and everything—she’s funny and sweet. But she’s an awfu
l cook.”
Lulu smiled. “I wouldn’t have said she’s an awful cook, but she’s definitely a distracted one. And she pulls out every pot, pan, and measuring cup in her kitchen in order to cook anything. It took forever to clean up, and we weren’t done when I finally left that night.”
Pansy snorted. “That night was really a disaster from start to finish. I think Evelyn should have been disqualified from winning the kitty, since she’s already rich. And then when Loren came in . . .” She shook her head and rolled her eyes, and Steffi laughed.
“Do the impression you did of him from that night,” said Steffi, urging Pansy on. “It’s so funny,” she said to Lulu with a smile. “It really sounds like Loren. Pansy cracks me up with it.”
“Okay,” said Pansy, grinning. “Here I go.” She wiped her face clean of all expression, then her face suddenly transformed until she’d perfectly mimicked Loren’s pinched, concerned look. “Pepper, I’m here at Bunko to bug you just as much as you bugged me at Steffi’s fund-raiser. Is it working, dear?” Steffi rolled with laughter, and Lulu blinked. It was unbelievable how well Pansy had mimicked Loren’s voice.
“But that sounded exactly like him!” said Lulu, amazed. “How are you able to do that—and with a man’s voice, too? Oh, wait—that’s one of your talents, isn’t it? For the pageants?”
Pansy said lazily, “It’s my talent for some of the smaller competitions. I mean, I wouldn’t want to do it for Miss Memphis or something like that. In the big pageants, I’m singing or dancing, for sure. But it’s fun . . . and I’m good at it.” She looked over at Steffi with a smile. “I don’t like doing it to be mean to anybody or make fun of them. But with somebody like Loren . . .” She and Steffi cracked up again.
Then Pansy changed expressions and went with an exasperated look. “Loren. Oh . . . Loren. For heaven’s sake, Loren.” Lulu recognized it as Pepper’s voice, right off the bat. Pansy giggled. “Pepper is just about as bad as Loren for getting on my nerves. And I’m sure she’s the one who destroyed Tristan’s portrait. Although I think she should get a standing ovation for it. Sorry, Steffi, I know she was your mom, but . . .” Pansy made a face.
Lulu started. “Would y’all . . . would you like some more cake?” She got up, almost in a daze, as Steffi said sadly, “She was awful. I know. I wish things could have been different with us, that’s all. Maybe if both of us had tried a little harder.”
But Lulu was barely hearing the girls talk. Her mind was whirling as she processed the new information she was getting. The girls must be getting more relaxed as time went on after the murders.... Steffi wasn’t supposed to know her mother was found with the crown on her head. The police had specifically told Lulu that they did not want that information leaked—even to Steffi. And how did Pansy know that the painting was destroyed? That was something else that the police had hushed up, unless Derrick, Pepper, David, or Cherry had been talking about it. She was sure that Pepper wouldn’t have said anything about the portrait, since she was embarrassed about destroying it, and neither would David.
But there was something even more chilling, thought Lulu, as she cut two more pieces of cake. Pansy’s mimicry.
Pansy, Colleen had told Lulu, could imitate anyone. Lulu had just seen that she could. What if . . . what if Pansy had been in the office area with Steffi and pretended to be Tristan having an argument with Steffi?
What if Pansy and Steffi murdered Tristan right after the auction. They knew that either Sara or Lulu would be looking for Steffi at eight o’clock to give her a ride home. Pansy pretended to be Tristan during the “argument” that Lulu and Dee Dee overheard, giving Steffi the perfect alibi. Lulu would say that she’d heard Tristan’s voice, alive and well . . . and that then Steffi and she had left. But Tristan could already have been dead.
Lulu thought back to the night of the party as she put cake on their plates. She remembered that Dee Dee had been lurking around. What if she’d stuck her head in the door of the office after Lulu and Steffi had walked away? What if she’d seen that Tristan wasn’t even in the office? She probably would have written the whole thing off as a practical joke—until it became known that Tristan was dead. Then all the pieces would have started coming together for her. Dee Dee being Dee Dee, she would have started thinking about blackmail—and that was what ended up signing her death warrant. It was probably Pansy who murdered her, since it would have been harder for Steffi to have gotten away from the fund-raiser, unnoticed.
Lulu took a deep breath. She wouldn’t have a chance if she said anything now—not against two girls. Better to just talk to Pink later, when she had an opportunity.
“Lulu?” asked Steffi in a strange voice. “Lulu, I asked you a question.”
Lulu gave a shaky laugh. “Well, you know, people keep telling me I’ve lost my hearing. It’s one of those things that you don’t want to happen so you pretend it’s not happening. You know? I guess I should be making an appointment to do something about it.”
Pansy said, “Funny, though—your hands are shaking, Lulu.”
“That is funny,” said Steffi in a flat voice.
“That’s what happens when you have too much caffeine,” said Lulu with a shake of her head. “I really need to cut back.”
“I didn’t really notice anything but lemonade and tea in your fridge, Lulu,” said Pansy.
There was silence for a moment. “I think,” said Steffi slowly, “that Lulu is being clever. I know you’ve been poking around in the investigation. Asking questions.”
“Only because I like to know what’s going on,” said Lulu quickly. “I’m just a nosy old lady. Plus, I’ve been worried about Sara, too—she’s had some suspicion thrown on her with all of this.”
Steffi had a faraway look in her eye like she was trying to remember something. “Let’s see. What were we talking about before Lulu got up to get us refills?”
“I remember!” said Pansy. “We were talking about Loren.”
“Not only that, though,” said Steffi impatiently. “That’s right—you mentioned that the portrait was destroyed. I don’t think you were supposed to know that.” Her voice had censure in it.
“Shoot,” said Pansy. She opened her purse and rummaged around in it, finally bringing out a package of cigarettes. “Well,” she said, lighting it up without even looking at Lulu, “you screwed up too, Steffi. Didn’t you say something about the tiara? So you can’t blame it all on me.”
“She definitely knows,” said Steffi, looking dispassionately at Lulu. “Look at her. Face white, hands shaking. She knows.”
Chapter 22
“So we’ll take care of it,” said Pansy coolly. And Lulu shivered at the girls’ tone, as well as the fact that they were acting like she wasn’t even there.
“How?” said Steffi. “I’m getting so tired of this, Pansy. Isn’t it ever going to stop—the covering up? The fixing things?” She rubbed her eyes with both hands.
Lulu cleared her throat a little. “Girls, if I can offer any advice? Don’t keep running. And don’t do anything else to make it worse. Do you really want a third body on your conscience—and your record? Because I know that the police will find out. If I was able to put two and two together, they’ll definitely be able to do it. And you’re talking about a lot of jail—a lot of time in prison.”
Pansy gave a cold laugh. “Well, of course you’re going to say something like that, Lulu. It’s not like you have our best interests at heart—you’re doing it to save your own skin.”
“I thought we were friends,” said Lulu, her voice getting stronger. “Steffi? I wouldn’t have had that fund-raiser if I hadn’t been trying to help you. And would I have invited you over here to take this table if we hadn’t been friends?”
Steffi seemed to hesitate for a second. Pansy said, “Some friend, trying to get us to turn ourselves in!”
Lulu said quickly, “Think about it, girls. Sara knew you were coming over to take this table. And Pansy, you borrowed the van from your mother,
so she knows about it, too. Don’t you think that as soon as everyone realizes I’m missing—and they’ll realize it in a couple of hours when I don’t show up at Aunt Pat’s for the supper rush—that they’re going to be retracing my steps the very first thing? They’re going to find out really fast that you were the last people to see me alive.”
“Then I guess,” said Steffi slowly, “we’ll have to be real careful about covering our tracks this time, Pansy.” Pansy smiled at her, and they stood up. Steffi took Lulu’s arm, and Pansy put on a kitchen glove and picked up a butcher knife from the wood block that Lulu used. “And I’m thinking we need to take the car out of town a little ways—it’ll take longer to discover you that way, too.”
Lulu said, trying to stall them, “Don’t you see that with every crime you’re slipping a little? That you’re making more mistakes? Pansy, you even were doing that trick with mimicry that you do so well. That’s really what made me think of it. You must have been faking Tristan’s voice that night at the party to try to make an alibi for yourself and Steffi.”
They weren’t going to be stalled, apparently. In fact, Lulu was wondering if they’d even heard her. They were too concerned about figuring out how to kill her and where to dispose of her body. And their coldness shocked Lulu.
“I know this place that’s real deserted,” said Pansy. “I see it sometimes on the way to out-of-town pageants. Let’s head out there. Maybe grab some matches.”
Lulu knew that they said a victim should never allow herself to be moved from one location to another. But what was she going to do? They had the knife, not her. She glanced around real quick to see if there was anything she could use as a weapon. The problem was that there were two of them. If she picked up one of the kitchen chairs? But then the other one would just take it away from her. There was no way she could reach her rolling pin or the knives. Could she break away from them for long enough to lock herself in her bedroom and call the police?
