by Riley Adams
Lulu softened a little. “You can come in tomorrow, though. I’m sure there’re some things we can find for you to do.”
Chapter 9
Lulu was so absorbed by meeting and greeting all her guests in the crowded dining room that she didn’t even notice she was being shadowed.
In fact, it took close to an hour before she finally glimpsed a small brunette head dodging back behind the back of a recently vacated booth. Lulu figured she’d made a colossal mistake by not staying more on top of Derrick, and she was determined to communicate more with Ella Beth and Coco. She plopped down in the booth opposite the scrunched-down Ella Beth. “Is there something you needed to talk to me about, sweetie?” asked Lulu.
Ella Beth shook her head. She clutched a bug viewer magnifying glass. “No, Granny Lulu. I’m looking for clues, that’s all. And keeping under cover. You really shouldn’t be drawing attention to me, you know.”
Lulu knit her brows. “Clues to what, honey?”
Ella Beth looked at her with some incredulity. “To the mystery, of course. The mystery of Miss Adrian’s death. I’m going to crack the case and find out who done it. This magnifying glass helps me look for clues to the killer. Dusty footprints, a torn piece of clothing, or smudged fingerprints. You know.”
Lulu didn’t want to break it to her that there were so many footprints, fingerprints, and DNA traces scattered around the dining room that she never would be able to distinguish what should be there and what shouldn’t be there. She leaned over the table and squeezed Ella Beth’s hand. “You did a great job for your last case.”
“The case of the disappearing cell phone? Yes, and that was a tough one. Daddy should never have put it on vibrate. When he called it to see where it was, it didn’t ring. It took me forever to find it for him. And don’t forget my private-investigation talent for keeping undercover. I was the brains behind the bust of Derrick at the tattoo parlor.”
Lulu said, “You surely were. So are you a solo detective, then? Where’s Coco? I haven’t seen her around tonight.”
Ella Beth shrugged. “She’s watching some TV show in the office.”
Clearly, Coco had no interest at all in playing along with her sister’s detective work. How could twins be so different?
“Have you made any discoveries with your case, sweetie?”
Ella Beth brightened. “Could we be a crime-fighting duo? Most detectives have sidekicks.”
“Well, sure. I’d be proud to call you my sidekick.”
There was a long pause. “No, Granny Lulu. I was thinking that you could be my sidekick. Since I’m the one with the detective kit and all.”
“Of course, of course. What was I thinking?” Lulu shook her head woefully at this evidence of her mental shortcomings.
“Since you’re here, this will be a good time for a secret meeting. Let’s share our findings on the case of the mean TV scout. Do you have an update to share, Granny Lulu?”
“My update?”
“What you’ve discovered so far,” said Ella Beth. “Because I know you’ve been working on it.”
Lulu looked startled. She needed everyone to think she was a garrulous, gossipy old lady. Or, perhaps, that she was on a mission to clear the good name of Aunt Pat’s barbeque. If everybody in Memphis knew she was trying to solve the case, she’d be running into one brick wall after another. They’d all be protecting their secrets. What if the killer tried to bump Lulu off because she knew something he didn’t want her to know? She shivered.
“Don’t worry,” said Ella Beth breezily. “Nobody else knows. Except Daddy, maybe. I’m just especially observant. After all, I’m a detective, so I notice things.”
“Well, now, that is a relief. Because, if I’m a private eye, I’d like to be a private eye,” said Lulu. “But, no, I really haven’t discovered anything, honey.” After all, she certainly wasn’t going to tell her nine-year-old granddaughter about Flo having been in prison. Or, for that matter, her uncle Seb having been there. Or her cousin Derrick’s proclivity for slashing car tires. She’d just keep those little tidbits of information to herself.
Ella Beth looked rather disgusted. “Nothing? You haven’t found anything out?”
“Afraid not, sweetie. I’m a real crime-fighting dunce.”
“Well I’ve found out something. But you can’t tell anybody. Because we’re in the investigating stage and don’t need to scare off any suspects.”
Suspects like your mom? wondered Lulu.
“I found out,” breathed Ella Beth, after looking around her in all directions, “that not everybody was where they said they were the day Miss Adrian was murdered.”
Oh, so she did know about Derrick playing hooky. Lulu guessed that was to be expected. After all, they were living like siblings now.
“Good work!” said Lulu. “Do you think it’ll give us a clue to the murder?”
“No,” said Ella Beth. “But it might mean somebody needs to make sure Derrick’s grades aren’t dropping like crazy.”
Lulu wondered if Ella Beth might be bitter over the fact that she was at school while Derrick was skipping for days in a row. Although it didn’t seem like she was when she said, “By the way, Derrick has been really cool lately. He even helped me with my homework yesterday.”
Lulu raised her eyebrows. “Since when do you need help with your homework?”
Ella Beth shrugged. “I didn’t actually need any help. But it meant Derrick and I got to spend some time together, and he was totally pumped that he could help me out.”
“That’s really sweet of him.”
Ella Beth nodded. “And then he even drove Coco to her dance practice when Mama and Daddy were too busy. Good thing he did—Coco was fit to be tied that no one could take her. She needed to practice her routine for the next pageant.” She added thoughtfully, “One day, Coco will be a beauty queen, and I’ll be the most in-demand investigator in Memphis.”
Lulu gave Ella Beth a quick hug. “By the way,” she said, “I have something else I’d like you to investigate for me.”
“What’s that, Granny Lulu?”
“Your math book. I seem to remember your mama saying she needed you to work on homework. But all I’ve noticed is you with a magnifying glass.”
Ella Beth looked miffed. “All right. I guess I can take a break for long enough to do some math. But if I get a fresh lead, then I’m outta there.”
“Deal,” said Lulu.
“And, Granny Lulu? Did you happen to make any cookies today?”
“Sweetie, you know I wouldn’t forget about you! I made your favorite chocolate chunk cookies. And this time I didn’t even eat a one. Although they were right tempting there on the cooling rack.”
A huge grin spread over Ella Beth’s freckled face as she hurried off for the kitchen.
“Remember to share some with Coco!” called Lulu. But Ella Beth was already conveniently out of earshot.
Lulu headed back into the dining room after her tête-à-tête with Ella Beth. The supper crowd was dying down, but the night crowd was coming in—drawn by blues and barbeque. This crowd was more likely to have a side order or a dessert and a drink while listening to the band. Lulu saw Mildred Cameron entering the restaurant.
Despite Mildred’s eccentricity, Lulu really liked her. After all, she was nice. And nice went a long way with Lulu. Mildred looked around her tentatively, making sure no one appeared to be talking about her or laughing at her or recalling her last fateful appearance there.
But no one did. Actually, studiously no one did. In the South, if someone is going to talk about you, they’ll do it only in the most loving of ways and certainly not where you can see them doing it. In fact, there was a chorus of hellos when she walked farther into the dining room. Lulu’s was one of them.
Lulu slid into the booth opposite Mildred, and Mildred looked relieved for the company. Lulu was happy to see that it was Normal Mildred and not Zombie Mildred that had come to the restaurant. Lulu had really been worried a
bout her at the tail end of their visit the other day.
“We really missed seeing you here, sweetie. The Graces were all asking me when you were coming by, and Big Ben asked if I’d talked to you. It hasn’t been the same here without you, honey!”
Mildred blushed but looked pleased. “I missed everybody, too. And I found out I can’t write as well when I’m all holed up at home.” She shyly took out a notebook. “I think I put little bits of all of y’all in my stories.”
A waitress hovered nearby, and Lulu said, “A pulled pork sandwich with red beans and rice, coleslaw, and a couple of spicy corn muffins. That is what you want, right? And an iced tea?”
Mildred nodded shyly, and Lulu said softly to the waitress, “On the house, please, Maggie.”
Lulu leaned toward Mildred and said in a low voice, “I know you were worried about the police visiting you. Did you get my message about Pink?” Mildred nodded. “He just couldn’t give me much information . . . you know, he’s not supposed to. And he’s not on that case, anyway.”
Mildred said, “It went okay. I was terrified at the beginning, but that Detective Bryce is really a nice man. And it ended up being good research for my mystery.”
Lulu reflected that Detective Bryce’s innocent-looking, freshly scrubbed appearance might work to his advantage in some circumstances—like putting shy, old maid book-sellers at ease. Lulu reached over and gave Mildred’s hand a quick squeeze. “Good for you!”
“I’ve made up my mind that nothing she could say is going to make me feel bad about my manuscript or myself. Miss Adrian was . . . mean.”
“Or something,” agreed Lulu sympathetically. “She seemed to have a lot of different issues. Tony was telling the Graces, Seb, and me that Rebecca was so secretive she couldn’t even take a cell phone call without getting up and walking away. She sprang up right in the middle of a conversation we were all having. So she didn’t even have basic manners.”
“Detective Bryce asked me what I’d thought of her. He really was interested in my opinion about Miss Adrian.” She added, almost to herself, “I wanted to kill her.”
“You didn’t tell the police that, right?” asked Lulu. Surely Mildred had said something like, “I was furious” or “I was so mad.”
“Well, of course I told Detective Bryce that,” she said, looking puzzled at Lulu. “He asked me. The police asked me.”
Lulu sighed. Mildred’s honesty might end up getting her in trouble.
Mildred looked around her, patting her slightly greasy locks. “I was wondering—is Seb here? I was hoping to talk to him for a few minutes.”
You and everybody else in Memphis, thought Lulu. “No, honey, I’m afraid he wasn’t . . . uh . . . feeling well today. I told him to stay at home instead of contaminating the populace here at Aunt Pat’s. But I think he’ll probably be here bright and early tomorrow morning.” At least he’d better be. Otherwise he was going to be her dearly departed younger son.
Mildred drooped with disappointment. “Oh. Well, I guess I could come back and talk to him tomorrow morning before going to the bookstore.”
“Is there something you want me to ask him for you?” asked Lulu. Surely Mildred wasn’t setting her cap for Seb. If pretty Susan Meredith wasn’t turning Seb’s head, then poor Mildred didn’t have a chance in hell.
“No, that’s okay, Lulu. I’ll try to catch up with him later.” She looked like she was worried about something and opened her mouth for a second before snapping it shut again. More secrecy.
Then Mildred leaned forward in a secretive way. “But the new book? The mystery? It’s coming along really well. I’m already a couple of pages into it! I think mystery might be the way to go for me. And I’m really going to research this one and make it really accurate—what it’s like to be a suspect, and how a murderer thinks. That kind of thing.”
Lulu could only imagine how long it was going to take to complete a whole new manuscript, especially if there was research involved. Mildred’s last project had taken decades to complete. “I’m so happy for you, Mildred! See, you’ve figured out a way to make some pink lemonade out of those sour lemons you were dealt.”
Lulu felt world-weary about this case. She couldn’t even imagine how Detective Bryce could investigate crime for a living. And he still looked boyish! He must have a painting in his attic that was turning monstrous, like Dorian Gray.
Lulu wondered if maybe she should take a little break. The secrets everybody toted around were really wearing her down. When the phone rang with Evelyn on the line, Lulu decided that the two of them must have some kind of cosmic connection.
“I just had the best idea!” bubbled Evelyn. “We’ll do a girls’ day out tomorrow. My house on the lake. We’ll have brunch, go out on the boat, have some drinks and some food, and relax. What do you think?” Evelyn demanded Lulu’s opinion in a tone that indicated she’d allow no argument.
Lulu was a little bit leery of this idea. The last planned girls’ outing had ended with Flo throwing up in a trashcan, and Lulu and Cherry driving around with security looking for her car.
Evelyn added, as though reading Lulu’s mind again, “And this time we’ll have fun. We need,” Evelyn pronounced, “to escape from Memphis.”
Evelyn had quite an impressive house right on Pickwick Lake, as did many of Memphis’s well-to-do residents. But the thing about Pickwick was that it wasn’t exactly local. No, it would take them close to three hours to get there. She opened her mouth to offer a quick excuse.
“Now wait, Lulu. I’m sensing a no coming. This won’t be a day trip, and you won’t have to drive. We’re going to have an overnight excursion. A house party.”
Lulu hesitated. “Aren’t some of us under suspicion of murder? Shouldn’t we stay in Memphis?”
“It’s not Bora Bora, honey! And, we’re not all under suspicion. Besides, no one told us to stay here in town, did they?”
Not as far as Lulu knew. She wasn’t sure what Flo had been told. Lulu was tempted to say no, but realized it might be the best opportunity to ask some questions. The Graces always knew the inside track on everything and everybody. Besides, Evelyn was rolling in money, and her lake house was a sight to behold.
As though anticipating more doubts, Evelyn said in a wheedling tone, “Tommie’s gonna cook the brunch.” Tommie was Evelyn’s long-time housekeeper and girl Friday.
Lulu’s tummy rumbled on cue. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Evelyn. I’d never pass up a meal from Tommie.”
“Great! It’s a plan, then. The weather looks like it’s going to be perfect. I’ll call the ladies. Make sure you pack a bathing suit and a towel.”
The day started out just as Evelyn said it would. The sun shone as if nighttime would never come. The car ride over seemed quick with such lively companions. Evelyn was the perfect hostess. They sat out on her huge screen porch with ceiling fans blowing. This, actually, was not Lulu’s strict definition of a screen porch. Such a definition would include a description of the area that was attached to the front of Aunt Pat’s. This place was more of an outdoor living room with comfortable brand-new sofas that aspired to be shabby chic.
Evelyn’s housekeeper, Tommie, strode out with a tray of Bloody Marys. She wore a buttoned-down pink blouse, a floral skirt that stretched over her stomach, and large white tennis shoes. And a somewhat put-upon expression.
“Y’all know my executive assistant, Tommie, don’t you?” drawled Evelyn.
Tommie beamed at the chorus of hi’s, then mock-scowled at Evelyn. “Executive assistant? I’ll execute you! I saw that pile of clean laundry wrinkling up there in the dryer. I’m darned if I’ll pull that heavy iron out. How long has that stuff been in there? Since the last time we were at Pickwick?”
“Probably. Well, throw a wet washcloth in there and run it a few minutes. The wrinkles will fall out,” said Evelyn carelessly.
While the ladies were visiting on the porch, Lulu couldn’t resist checking out Evelyn’s kitchen. Sure enough, the kitchen
was drool worthy. It was massive, with tons of granite-covered counter space and enough cabinets to store any kind of kitchen gadget that you wanted to. Lulu couldn’t resist opening a cabinet door. Sure enough, there were slicers and processors and blenders that seemed to mean business. There were vegetable steamers and egg slicers and fondue pots . . .
“It does beat all, doesn’t it?” Lulu jumped guiltily and turned around to see Tommie standing behind her, laughing. “I didn’t mean to scare you, Lulu.”
“Do you really know how to use all these gadgets, Tommie?”
“Mercy, no! But Miss Evelyn likes to have them around, anyway. For when she cooks.” Tommie smirked. “Elbow grease works just fine for me with the dicing and slicing. And not much cleanup, either. Some of her cooking toys are the devil to clean, let me tell you.”
She motioned to Lulu to follow her. “Take a look at this. You’ll appreciate this part of the kitchen.” She opened an oak door and made a sweeping gesture to Lulu at the huge pantry inside. Half of one wall was devoted to spices and oils of every kind and description. There were exotic looking pastas and rice and jarred fruits and vegetables. Lulu was overwhelmed. “This looks bigger than our storeroom at the restaurant!” She shook her head. “I’m going to have to get out of here before my face freezes this way.”
“What way?”
“Green! With envy.”
Tommie laughed. “Well, how about if you come around and see what I’m cooking up for y’all for lunch.”
“I thought you’d never ask! What’s that lovely aroma I’ve been smelling?”
“That is my very own Vidalia onion pie,” said Tommie with a great deal of personal satisfaction.
Lulu gave a big smile. “I haven’t had onion pie for ages, Tommie. Aunt Pat used to make a heavenly sweet onion pie, but I never watched her make it. What’s in yours?”
“Oh, I like to put in some cheese . . .”
“Cheddar?”
“Oh, honey, Miss Evelyn got over the cheddar. Now we’re into the goat cheese. But cheddar would work just fine. Then we got the heavy cream . . .”
