by Riley Adams
“So you slept all yesterday afternoon?” Lulu guessed that explanation would have to do, but she wasn’t happy about it.
Lulu surely couldn’t think of any reason at all why Seb would kill someone he hadn’t even met. But she was convinced he was hiding something. In fact, she was starting to wonder if everybody she knew was hiding something. First Mildred, then Sara, now Seb. The whole idea gave her a sickening feeling down in the pit of her stomach. The sooner she figured out who killed Rebecca Adrian, the better for all of them.
Lulu was never more delighted to see Pink Rogers in her life. She patted herself on the back for her inspired idea some years ago to offer half-priced food to police officers and firefighters. Despite the large amount of barbeque Pink consumed, he stayed fit and trim. And he always had a warm smile and kind word for everyone at the restaurant. Lulu loved having a guardian angel in the guise of a Memphis police officer. When he was off duty, Pink favored wearing pastel button-downs, although a more masculine man you’d never meet. Of course, being six feet seven and two hundred and fifty pounds meant you could afford to be secure in your masculinity.
Pink headed over to his usual seat on the barstool, where the lunchtime patrons sat shoulder to shoulder, but Lulu quickly herded him to a booth to sit with her. She wanted a little bit more privacy than the barstools afforded. “Oh no, come sit over here with me. I want to talk to you, and I can’t hitch myself up on those stools anymore. My hitcher is broken.”
Pink raised his eyebrows but followed Lulu to a booth. One of the waitresses came over quickly, and Lulu said, “Pick whatever you want, honey. It’s on the house today.”
Now Pink looked suspicious. His usual fifty percent off wasn’t a bad deal at all, but free food was unheard of. He placed his order, then said, “Spill it Lulu. This must have something to do with the shenanigans over here yesterday. The scout?”
Lulu had the grace to blush. “It was a trying day, let’s say. But, yes,” she said in a lower voice, “I wanted to press you for some information. Nothing that you’d get in trouble for giving me,” she hurried on. “But it’s not like I’m going to go to the paper or anything. I’m just trying to figure out which way is up.”
Pink nodded and took a long gulp of his sweet tea. “Fair enough. What’s on your mind?”
Lulu said, “First of all, is it murder? I mean, it didn’t look natural to me, but I’m not someone who’d know.”
“It was murder.” This was said in the discouraging tone of one who does not want a whole lot of questions asked.
“Right,” said Lulu. “So, I’ll move on to the next question. Was it poison?”
“It was poison.” Same tone but same friendly face.
“Not like an accidental poisoning?”
Now Pink grinned. “Explain to me how you accidentally poison someone? Your red beans and rice doesn’t have mushrooms you found in the woods somewhere, does it?” He appeared unconcerned by the possibility. “I wish I knew how you make those. I’d be making it to go with my dinner every night. When I’m retired, I want to come work for you, Lulu. You can show me all your kitchen tricks, and I can be Ben’s sous chef.”
Lulu beamed at him, then said, “Honey, you’re welcome to work at Aunt Pat’s when you’re done crime fighting.” She frowned, trying to collect her thoughts again. “Oh. Okay, scratch that accidental-poisoning idea. Let’s see. Was it something . . . she ate?” Lulu’s lined face looked anxiously at Pink.
He wanted to relieve her mind but couldn’t. He said gently, “It was something she ate or drank. The forensic team is working on it. And to answer your next question, it wasn’t some sort of slow-acting poison that’s been eating at her since she left the Big Apple. She was either poisoned here or soon after she arrived at the Peabody.”
Lulu leaned forward. “And so the suspects for this murder are . . .” She trailed off, hoping Pink would just fill in the blank. When he didn’t, she said, “Mildred Cameron wanted me to ask you if she was a suspect.”
Pink said, “Now, Lulu, you know I can’t go into details about the case. I’m not even assigned to this one, anyway.”
“I guess there’s no mad stalker who followed her down from New York City? No rabid ex who decided to do away with her while she was in Memphis? No serial killer around here who has this MO?” asked Lulu.
The plates of ribs, red beans and rice, and spicy corn muffins arrived at the table. Pink thanked the waitress and waited a minute until she’d left. “No, there’s nobody like that around, Lulu. I’m sorry. The most likely suspects are going to be people she interacted with or had any type of conflict with over the last couple of days. We’ll retrace her steps, question different people, and check out her cell phone for incoming and outgoing calls.” He took a big bite from his ribs. “You didn’t, of course, hear any of this from me. We’ve been chatting about our mutual love of blues music, right?”
Lulu mustered a smile. “That’s right.” The smile faltered. “Restaurants don’t like being linked to poisonings.”
Pink didn’t immediately answer since he had a huge mouthful of coleslaw. He swallowed it up and then gave Lulu a reassuring smile. “I’m obviously not too worried about the food here. I think you’ll find that most other people won’t be, either.”
The lunchtime rush ended and Lulu moved out to the screen porch, sat in one of the big wooden rocking chairs, and petted B.B., who smiled his happy Labrador smile. The roomy porch was one of Lulu’s favorite parts of the restaurant. It held several picnic tables and three rocking chairs with high backs and checkered cushions. Sometimes, when the weather wasn’t hot and the band wasn’t too big, they’d stack up the tables in the corner, and the band would play right there on the porch. The music would mingle with the barbeque’s smoky scent, pulling people right off the street. Lulu watched people walking up and down Beale Street until the afternoon heat made her doze off in her chair.
The screen door slamming abruptly startled her awake. In came Cherry, helmet still in place from her motorcycle ride, spitting mad.
“That cow, Lurleen! You won’t believe what Hog Heaven has done this time!”
Lulu struggled to transition into consciousness. “Lurleen? Why? What happened?”
“They have a fuchsia pig dancing on Beale Street, outside Hog Heaven. It’s carrying a sign that says ‘Eat Hog Heaven’s delectable, safe BBQ! God Bless America.’”
“Well, for heaven’s sake. Although I can’t say I’m surprised. That Lurleen is never up to any good. I don’t think people will really think our barbeque is bad, though. Or that we’re somehow un-American here.” Lulu didn’t sound completely convinced.
“I was thinking,” said Cherry, “that Lurleen wasn’t up to any good yesterday. After all, she was here when Miss Adrian got poisoned.” Lulu made a face, and Cherry said quickly, “Sorry, Lulu. I mean, right before Miss Adrian got sick.”
“So were a lot of people, Cherry. The dining room was jam-packed.”
Cherry shook her helmeted head impatiently. “But she might really have done something to it. She was right here, after all.”
“Well.” Lulu considered this. “It doesn’t make any sense, Cherry. We can’t accuse Lurleen Ashton of murder just because we don’t like her advertising techniques. I just don’t see it happening. She wasn’t anywhere near Rebecca’s food. And what good would a dead television scout be to her? She planned for Hog Heaven to be Rebecca Adrian’s very next stop. Miss Adrian was supposed to be blown away by their food and crown Hog Heaven the king of Memphis barbeque. Why kill her before she even got there?”
“I don’t know, Lulu. But I’m sure in my heart of hearts that Lurleen had something to do with it all.” Cherry looked huffy. “Weren’t you upset about her and Seb being an item when he moved back down here? Maybe she had a jealous fit.”
“Cherry, that was like a two-day fling before Seb came to his senses. After I gave him a little talking to, he realized the error of his ways in courting Lurleen Ashton. I really doubt
Lurleen would still be jealous when their relationship ended months ago.”
“Still, though. I had to go over there for my cousin’s birthday dinner last month, and when I asked for a water, they brought me bottled, not tap! Who do they think they are? Stuffy snobs. Like I wanted to pay three dollars and fifty cents for something I can get from the spigot. She’s greedy.”
To Lulu’s relief, Cherry eventually wandered inside to order some ribs. Lulu didn’t think she could follow Cherry’s twisted logic for another minute. Besides, it was Lulu’s favorite time of the day—three o’clock, when the school bus dropped Coco and Ella Beth off right at the barricaded entrance to Beale.
As usual, she had sweet tea and some spicy corn bread out on the table for their after-school snack. Ella Beth tore through the door, ponytail bobbing. The screen door closed with a bang behind her. She gave Lulu a big hug, then buried her face in B.B.’s neck as he yelped his welcome. Cordelia ran to the screen door, then, aware that she had an image to uphold, slowed down to enter the porch at a much more sedate pace. She also hugged Lulu, careful not to mess up her elaborate hairdo.
“How were your days, girls?” asked Lulu.
“Fine,” answered Coco absently. “Is Miss Adrian here?”
Lulu’s heart skipped. She’d forgotten in all the hubbub yesterday that they hadn’t even thought to update Coco and Ella Beth. And apparently Sara had put them straight to bed without discussing the day with them.
Lulu must have looked poleaxed. Ella Beth noticed Lulu fumbling for words. “Is something wrong, Granny Lulu? Did something happen?”
Coco raised her eyebrows at Lulu’s uncharacteristic lack of words.
“Well, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, children. But there was . . . an accident. I’m afraid Miss Adrian has passed away.”
Coco tilted her head to one side like an inquisitive bird. Ella Beth, always one to call a spade a spade, said, “She’s dead? What kind of an accident? She was in a car wreck?”
Lulu shook her head, frustrated with her clumsiness around the children. “No, sweetie. She got really sick yesterday afternoon and then died very unexpectedly. It wasn’t anything contagious,” she assured them. “Let’s try and find your mom, Coco. Maybe she can discuss it with you a little.” Lulu’s indignant conscience fussed at her for unloading the problem on Sara. But she felt better about doing so when Coco melted into her mother’s arms.
The news of Rebecca Adrian’s demise didn’t seem to upset Ella Beth in the slightest. After all, she’d mentioned she didn’t like the woman. Besides, Ella Beth had a much more pragmatic approach to life than most nine-year-olds. Or ninety-nine-year-olds. Lulu settled down in the rocker next to Ella Beth, and they rocked in companionable silence on the porch. Beale Street surprisingly was still quiet. But it wouldn’t be long before the evening crowds poured in, the music cranked up, the graceful back-flipping boy street performers started, and the neon lights turned on. Ella Beth pulled off a piece of corn bread and buttered it.
Ella Beth finally said, “Miss Adrian wasn’t very old.”
“No sweetie, she sure wasn’t.”
“And she didn’t seem at all sick yesterday. She felt good enough to be mean as a snake. I didn’t hear a single cough out of her.”
“Well, that’s true. I guess it goes to show you never can tell,” said Lulu. She would be much more comfortable if this conversation took a philosophical or even a theological turn. “Sometimes, it’s just your time, sweetie. Life and death. . . . these are things we don’t completely understand in this life. Maybe, one day, in another sphere, we’ll know some of the deeper mysteries of our existence.”
Ella Beth looked at her grandmother sternly. “Did somebody do her in?”
So much for the philosophical shift. “Mercy, Ella Beth! Whatever gave you an idea like that?”
“Nobody liked her. Except Coco, but she’s dotty.”
Lulu hesitated but then realized that not being fully upfront would probably result in a more prolonged interrogation. She sighed. “We don’t exactly know what happened, Ella Beth. But it certainly looks like somebody poisoned her. I guess she must have messed with the wrong person. Not that there’s anything for us to be worried about,” she added hastily.
“Of course not. We don’t go around insulting people and acting all la-di-dah. No one wants to do us in.”
“Yes, well, that doesn’t mean she deserved what happened to her,” said Lulu. She noticed an aha look on Ella Beth’s pixie face. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” said Ella Beth quickly. “I was just thinking about Miss Adrian and all. I’d better catch up with Coco and start on my homework.”
Catch up with Coco? Homework? Now Lulu wondered if even little Ella Beth was hiding something from her. No, she fussed at herself, you’ve gotten completely paranoid. Snap out of it!
Coco glared across the office at Ella Beth. “Stop looking at me!”
“I’m really just thinking and looking into space. Your face just happened to be occupying the space where I was staring,” said Ella Beth.
“Well, stop it! What are you doing?”
“Coco, can you keep a secret?”
Although the lunch traffic had been steady, the dinner crowd was thinner than usual. When Susan Meredith shut down Southern Accents for the day and went to Aunt Pat’s, she didn’t see the steady stream of people coming in and out that she usually did. After eating supper, she settled in a rocker next to Lulu’s.
“It looks quieter than usual,” she said to Lulu.
Lulu nodded. “Lunch was busy, but that might have been people who were looking to get some gossip about Miss Adrian’s death.” She rocked for a minute in reflective silence. “How were things at the gallery today?”
“One of the reasons I came in was to talk to Sara this morning. Southern Accents was really buzzing. I’ve never seen people so excited by an exhibit. They went on and on about the vibrancy of the show. Word of mouth yesterday afternoon and today brought in a lot more people than I usually get during the week.” Lulu raised her eyebrows. “That’s what I was telling her,” said Susan. “Rebecca Adrian didn’t know two cents about art. Too bad Rebecca couldn’t have been murdered before she filled Sara’s mind with all that negative energy.”
“You assumed it was murder?”
“Lord knows I felt like murdering her myself yesterday. But,” she added, stabbing her finger in the air, “I didn’t. And there are plenty of patrons who can attest to the fact that I was knee-deep in tourists all afternoon.”
“Oh, honey, I didn’t mean that you did her in,” protested Lulu. “I was commenting on the fact that you thought it was murder.”
“Well, if I felt like stringing Rebecca Adrian up by her neck, then everybody else probably felt the same way. Sure she was murdered. Why else would a healthy, twenty-something, hateful creature end up dead at the Peabody? If I’d been Sara, I’d have had murder on the brain for sure. Right after I left Southern Accents for the day, I went straight home to meditate and do some yoga. I can’t tell you how stressed out I was. And Sara must have been even more stressed out than me.”
“But Sara didn’t kill her, of course.”
“Of course,” said Susan. “Because she wasn’t even at the Peabody. She was . . .” Susan waited for Lulu to fill in the blank on Sara’s alibi.
Lulu rocked violently in her rocking chair for a minute. “Well, she was working at the restaurant, naturally. She wasn’t anywhere near the Peabody until we all discovered Miss Adrian’s body together.”
“And the poisoning happened at the Peabody?” asked Susan.
Lulu said, “Honey, we just don’t know. It could’ve happened to her barbeque ribs here and not kicked in until she got back to her room.” She spoke in a quiet voice in case any of the few customers in the dining room should happen out on the porch.
“I don’t see how that could have been possible. The dining room was full of people. Somebody would have noticed someone putting poison in her f
ood.”
“You know how packed the restaurant is at a regular lunchtime. It was even busier yesterday for everyone to see the scout’s reaction to the food. Her plate was constructed in phases and kept warm. Someone could have sneaked into the kitchen and messed with it. Ben was slaving in the pit. Waitresses were rushing in and out picking up orders.” Lulu shrugged.
Susan reached over and squeezed Lulu’s thin arm. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Lulu. No one in their right mind is going to boycott Aunt Pat’s because of this. Oh, maybe they’ll take a break for a few days, but then they’ll be hankering for the best barbeque in Memphis.” Susan glanced up and quickly put a hand to her hair, smoothing down some errant blond flyaways.
Lulu followed her gaze and wasn’t surprised to see Seb coming over. It was obvious that Susan had a crush on him. Her whole demeanor changed when Seb was around. When Seb first came back to Memphis, Lulu crossed her fingers and toes that he would renounce his alley cat ways, settle down, maybe even bring Susan officially into the family. But now Ben had Lulu worrying over Seb’s sniffling and whether he might be a druggie. Lulu was now wondering whether her son was good enough for Susan.
“Hi, Seb,” Susan said, smiling brightly. “How’s everything going?”
As usual when speaking to someone of the female persuasion, Seb automatically hugged Susan closely before sliding smoothly into the booth next to Lulu. “Well, hi there, darlin’!” he said to Susan. “Haven’t seen you here lately. Where’ve you been hiding yourself?”
Idiot! thought Lulu unkindly. Susan had been at the restaurant daily in the last week. If he’d spent more time at work, maybe he’d have run into her. Lulu hosted most uncharitable thoughts about her second-born.
Susan didn’t share Lulu’s opinion. Her eyes twinkled at Seb through her John Lennon glasses. “Oh, I’ve been around. Although lately it’s been really hard to pull away from Southern Accents. Your sister-in-law is a smash hit.”
