Delicious and Suspicious

by Riley Adams

  Big Ben glared at Buddy but obediently took the hearing aid case out of his pocket. “Interfering friends,” he muttered.

  They settled into the rockers on the screen porch and rocked until the wooden floorboards creaked. Morty unfurled the newspaper and handed Big Ben the local section, Buddy the sports and comics, and reserved the A section for himself. Big Ben flapped open the local section with a flourish. Buddy peered over at it.

  “What kind of nonsensical headline is that?” he asked.

  Big Ben was still miffed. He looked at Buddy down his nose. “What are you griping about now?”

  “The headline there. Who wrote such a thing? ‘Ninetyone-year-old Found Dead.’” Buddy snorted.

  Morty raised his eyebrows. “What kind of a story is that? Was it a slow news day?”

  Big Ben said with great dignity, “I think there’s more to the story than that. Otherwise, it would hardly be newsworthy.” He disappeared pointedly behind the paper. Morty and Buddy exchanged glances. When Big Ben got in a snit, it took a while to jolly him out of it.

  Lulu came out on the porch with a big pitcher of sweet tea and some glasses full of ice cubes. A waitress behind her put down a plate of hot corn bread on a table.

  Lulu sat down in a rocker. “Is it too hot to sit out here this morning?”

  Morty said, “It’s hot, but with the fans and the tea, I think we’ll be okay. I like to sit here and look at all the people going by on Beale.” He looked thoughtfully at the waitress as she went back into the dining room. “Where’s Sara? I haven’t seen her around lately.” Lulu frowned, and he added quickly, “No complaints about the service, Lulu. I was only wondering where she was. She’s not been down in the dumps about that scout, has she?”

  Lulu mentally kicked herself. She’d been so busy focusing on trying to investigate this murder that she wasn’t paying enough attention to her family. “I hope not, Morty. I’m afraid Sara has dropped off my radar. I went to Pickwick Lake with the Graces for a getaway. But I’m hoping Sara wasn’t too upset about Miss Adrian. After all, the woman was a food scout. She wasn’t any kind of an art expert.”

  “Or,” Buddy added, “a literature expert. Poor Mildred. Have you seen her around at all?”

  “Actually, she was here the other night. I was glad to see her. It sounded like she’d decided not to take Miss Adrian’s opinion too seriously.” She rocked silently for a minute. “Come to think of it, Sara hasn’t been coming in to work at the normal times lately. Maybe I better find out what’s going on.” She looked up as the screen door opened and Seb came in.

  “Seb!” It was good to see him and see him looking like Seb again. He was clean and shaven and wore clean, pressed clothes. Big Ben lowered his paper briefly to smile at Seb, who always made small talk with him. It was a lot easier to talk to Seb now that he’d ditched those wild herringbone shirts. They’d given him vertigo.

  Seb carried a laptop bag and looked ready to work. “Don’t look so surprised to see me, Mother,” he drawled. “I did tell you I’d come in to work today. It sounds like the office is well on its way to imploding without my guiding hand.”

  “No, if my memory serves me, you were supposed to come into work a couple of days ago. Except I was conveniently out of the restaurant that day, and you decided not to come in. Besides, Derrick has done a fine job keeping us on track.” Not bad at all, thought Lulu. Seb might find himself replaced if he didn’t start on the path toward redemption. Seb didn’t seem at all concerned by his mother’s reprimand. He just nodded a greeting to the guys on the porch and headed to the office.

  Lulu drummed her fingers against the rocker arm, and tried to return to her original train of thought. “Now I’m all worried about Sara.”

  Morty said, “Now, now, Lulu, don’t jump to any conclusions. Maybe her allergies have been bugging her. You know how rough the pollen is this time of year. Or maybe she’s feeling a little overworked and wants to take a break from the barbeque.”

  “Or a break from Ben?” suggested Buddy. “Can’t be easy to live and work with somebody, day in and day out. You’re with them at home, putting up with their bad habits. Then you’re sleeping with them at night. And then you don’t even escape them the next day because they’re right there beside you at work.” They quietly reflected on this notion.

  “Those poor children,” said Lulu. “Think of it—caught between their dueling parents.” Her eyes grew moist and she pulled out a neatly folded tissue from her sleeve. “It must be horrible for them.”

  Big Ben put his paper down again. “Lulu,” he said severely, “your imagination is running away with you. You know what the best solution for that problem is?”

  Lulu wiped her eyes and shook her head.

  “Talking to Ben and Sara about it.” Big Ben delivered this pronouncement then disappeared again into the depths of the local section.

  “That’s what I need to do,” she said. “Sorry for the waterworks. I think this case is just getting to me.” She walked quickly into the dining room.

  “Case?” said Buddy to Morty. “Did she call this a ‘case’?”

  “That she did.”

  “Lord have mercy. Is she playing detective, then?”

  “I do believe she is,” said Morty.

  “Well then, God be with her,” Buddy said solemnly. “She’s gonna need a little guardian angel to keep her from harm.”

  Lulu strode into the kitchen where Ben was mixing together another batch of dry rub for the barbeque. Ben raised his eyebrows at the sight of his mother with her hands on her hips. “What are you thinking?” she demanded.

  Ben said, “I’m thinking you’ve had a small stroke.”

  Lulu shook her head impatiently. “I mean, why aren’t you taking better care of Sara? Why is there this big rift between you right now?”

  Ben sank down on a stool. “What? Do you know something I don’t know, Mother? Did Sara talk to you?”

  “Should she have? What’s going on?”

  “Nothing is going on! I have no idea what kind of nonsense you’re spewing right now. As far as I’m aware, Sara’s had a bad week, but things between the two of us have never been better. I’d like to know why you’re thinking otherwise.”

  Lulu deflated like a balloon that’s been introduced to a knitting needle. “Oh. Oh, nothing. Sorry. You can get back to your sauce making now.”

  “Just hold on there a minute, Sparky. This conversation isn’t over yet,” gritted Ben.

  Lulu pinkened. “It’s nothing. I was talking out on the porch with Big Ben, Buddy, and Morty. They mentioned that they hadn’t seen Sara waitressing for a while. Then I got to thinking that I hadn’t, either. I felt bad that I haven’t been on top of things enough to know what’s going on with my own family. Derrick had problems, Seb was a wreck, then there was Sara . . .”

  Ben said, “And you thought it had something to do with Sara and me? Even with a murder investigation going on and her being laughed at by some know-it-all who actually knew nothing? Thanks a lot.” Lulu winced, and Ben said more gently, “She’s fine. Go talk to her yourself. She needed a break, that’s all. We had full coverage with the waitresses so I told her to go home and relax for a while. And that’s all there was,” he said firmly.

  “Well, now, that is a relief,” said Lulu. She was now ready to escape Ben’s eagle eye. “I’ll leave you to the cooking, now.”

  “Actually, Mother, why don’t you go and check on Sara for yourself?”

  “I really don’t think that’s necessary. You’ve relieved my mind,” said Lulu. She continued toward the door.

  “No, really. Maybe you’re having some sort of divine revelation that you need to go look out for her and make sure she’s okay.”

  “I don’t believe in signs,” said Lulu, but not in the scornful voice she usually did. In the back of her mind, she wondered if that bad day with Rebecca Adrian would ever have happened if she’d paid attention to all the signs. “But,” she added, “I will go out and c
heck on her. Maybe a little company would do her good.”

  Sara didn’t immediately open her front door when Lulu rang the doorbell. In fact, Lulu was about to whip out her copy of their house key, break into the house, and make sure that the mother of her grandchildren was alive and kicking. It’s funny, thought Lulu, how irrational anxiety can make you.

  Fortunately, Sara opened the door herself after a few minutes. Fortunate, because Lulu was sure she wouldn’t have taken kindly to Lulu barging into the house without first being invited.

  Sara had practically a whole palette of paint covering her, and they didn’t look like colors that she’d be painting a wall. “Oh!” said Lulu. “You’re painting again. I’m so glad.”

  Sara nodded and motioned Lulu inside. “Sorry I haven’t been at the restaurant lately.” She looked searchingly at Lulu’s face. Lulu smiled benignly. “I’m thinking that’s why you’re here?”

  “Ben will probably tell you anyway, so I might as well confess. I’d concocted this horrible scenario in my head about trouble between you and Ben.”

  Now Sara really looked surprised. “Why would you think something like that?”

  Lulu was ready to pass the buck. “I was talking to Morty, Buddy, and Big Ben, and they were wondering out loud where you were. And how it would be tough to live and work with your spouse.”

  “Well, some days are tougher than others, but I don’t stay home because of it.” Sara looked agitated, and Lulu eagerly changed the subject.

  “Oh, look! It’s Babette.” The little dog glared suspiciously at Lulu. On some doggy level she knew that Lulu was hardly her biggest fan. “And she has the most precious outfit on! Who’d have thought to make a cheerleading outfit for a dog?”

  Sara rolled her eyes. “Well, Ben does dote on that dog. Of course, to hear him talk about it, B.B. and Elvis are his closest buddies. Guess having Labs as man’s best friend goes over better with the guys than a toy dog.”

  There was an uncomfortable pause during which Lulu made quite a show of lavishing attention on little Babette. The dog seemed to be seriously considering biting her. It curled its lips back in a snarl.

  Finally Lulu broke the silence. “How is your art going? I was afraid that you were going to be discouraged by that woman, and put aside the painting and sculpting for a while.”

  Sara ruffled a hand through her riotous red curls. “Maybe I did at first. But then I remembered what Susan said about Rebecca: she didn’t know beans about art. And it’s true. She was a food critic, not an art critic. And she wasn’t a book critic. Mildred and I projected our own dreams onto her. We put our futures in her hands, and they didn’t belong there. Now I’m trying to use the whole experience as inspiration. Let me see how I can prove she was wrong. I’m ready to take the next step.”

  Lulu nodded. “You’re absolutely right. I’m just glad the whole episode didn’t get you down.”

  “What got me down was Derrick,” she said. “I hate that he’s even considered a suspect at all with this case. I feel like I should have been there for him more. My sister didn’t send him down here to be mixed up in a murder. She sent him here because she thought he’d be safe.”

  “I think,” said Lulu caustically, “that she sent him down here to get him out of her hair. You’ve got nothing to feel bad about.”

  “Still,” said Sara. She sighed. “I hope I’ve heard his whole story, that’s all.”

  Lulu looked closely at Sara. She reminded her of a mother bear protecting a cub. Lulu wondered how far Sara’s desire to protect Derrick might go.

  Sara registered Lulu’s worry. “Now you’ve checked on me, and you’ve seen for yourself that everything is just fine. Why not head on back to Aunt Pat’s? I’m going to get some work done in the studio before the girls get home from school.”

  Lulu gave a smile that looked more convincing than she felt. She couldn’t shake her sense of foreboding.

  Chapter 10

  “Graceland was hell today,” moaned Evelyn. “Who were those people? What rocks did they crawl out from under?” Apparently, Evelyn had crashed back to earth again after her extra day of romance at the lake house.

  “It must have been bad for you to complain about Graceland. What on earth happened?” asked Lulu.

  Evelyn took a big bite of her baked beans, chewed, and said, “I’ve been there for years and have never seen such wildly behaved people in my life.”

  Jeanne tried to take a more loving, Christian approach to the wayward tourists. “They were excited, that’s all. It was their first time to really experience Graceland. They were overwhelmed.” Evelyn raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Well, they were,” said Jeanne. “Besides, they couldn’t be expected to know the rules.”

  Peggy Sue said, “Good Lordy, Jeanne. It’s not like they’re not obvious. When you see a roped-off staircase, most people would assume they’re not supposed to go up there.”

  Jeanne was stubborn. “Maybe that lady was looking for the powder room.”

  “So when she went up the blocked off stairs and acted like a crazy lady when the guard dragged her kicking and screaming off the stairs, she was just upset about not finding the bathroom? I don’t think so. And at her age, too! She must have been seventy-five if she was a day,” scoffed Peggy Sue.

  “Imagine,” said Evelyn, “being that excited about Elvis in your seventies.”

  “Either that or she was senile,” said Peggy Sue.

  Lulu noticed that Cherry listlessly pushing baked beans and slaw around on her barbeque plate. Ordinarily, if some questionably sane woman had stormed the upstairs of Graceland, violating Elvis’s private quarters, Cherry would have been full of righteous indignation. But Cherry hadn’t even gone to Graceland today, citing a headache. And she didn’t even seem to be listening to the grizzly tale of the horrific happenings there. What’s more, she was wearing a dumpy sweat suit instead of her usual colorful, snazzy attire.

  “What happened then?” asked Lulu, still keeping an eye on Cherry.

  “Well, the little old lady had a huge fit. She hissed and spat and accused the security guard of brutality. She refused to leave the grounds of Graceland. Said this was her Mecca and she was, by-golly, going to stay there until she got to see Elvis’s grave at the end of the tour. She dug her heels into the pile carpet and wouldn’t budge.”

  “Why didn’t the guard simply pick her up and carry her out? Especially since she was elderly. She couldn’t have been all that heavy,” said Lulu.

  “I think the security guard was scared that she was going to sue his pants off. Because that’s what she kept saying—‘I’m gonna sue your britches off!’ And she was covered in jewelry from head to toe . . . expensive stuff. And designer clothes. She really meant it. She looked like she had a whole stable of lawyers at her beck and call.”

  “How did y’all ever get rid of her?” asked Lulu.

  “We ended up having to call out the Memphis police. As if they don’t have enough going on with real crime. They had to come out and drag her out of there. She wasn’t going to be suing them. Or they didn’t care if she did, anyway.”

  Flo said, “And that wasn’t the end of the problems. There was somebody determined to take flash photography because he couldn’t figure out how to turn his flash off. And he was belligerent, too! And then there was that kooky woman who was howling crying the whole time during the tour.”

  “Was there a full moon last night?” asked Lulu.

  “Maybe. That might explain it. Although you’d think those folks would have been exhausted enough from howling at it all night to skip coming to Graceland,” said Flo. Lulu was glad to see that the good effects from Evelyn’s house party were still in evidence.

  Evelyn gave a satisfied sigh. “I’m all done, how about y’all? I need to get back home and put my feet up for a while. And maybe have myself a big glass of chardonnay. Today just knocked the stuffing out of me. Everybody ready to head out?”

  All the Graces but Cherry said they were rea
dy to go. Peggy Sue looked over at Cherry. “What is eating you today, honey? You’re pushing that food all around on your plate. And this is Aunt Pat’s food. Are you feeling puny today? I thought you said your headache was better.”

  Cherry shrugged. “I’m just kind of poky, that’s all. Y’all go ahead and leave. It’ll take me forever to finish up.”

  “But how are you going to get home?” asked Peggy Sue. “I dragged you out here, remember? You don’t have your motorcycle or helmet with you.”

  Lulu said quickly, “I’m happy to drop her by her house. I’ll be ready for a break, anyway. No problem at all.”

  So the Graces took off, and Cherry stayed behind with Lulu. Lulu took a long swallow of iced tea and watched as Cherry met her gaze and then looked away. Cherry knew that Lulu had a way of pulling information out of people.

  “What’s going on, Cherry?” asked Lulu in a gentle but firm voice. “You’re not acting like yourself. Not going to Graceland, not joining in some lively conversation, picking at your food.”

  Cherry nodded. “Well, I do have some problems, Lulu. You’d . . . well, you’d just be amazed at some of the problems that I have.”

  Lulu lifted her eyebrows. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Cherry. Can you fill me in? I’d like to help you any way I can.”

  Cherry considered this. Lulu wondered whether she was trying to decide about confiding in Lulu or if she was trying to make up a story to tell her.

  “I’ve got the blues, Lulu. No, really! I’ve been grousing around the last couple of days like you wouldn’t believe. Dead bodies popping up, friends acting weird, no success romancing Tony. No, I’ve got a case of the mopes, all right.”

  “This is serious, then,” said Lulu. “We’re gonna have to take some drastic action.”

  They exchanged a look.

  “Something fattening?” asked Cherry. “I think I need something truly outrageous to eat, Lulu. To get through my slump.”

  “Sweetie, you’ve come to the right place. Now our usual menu is pretty fattening all on its own, you know. But today the baking bug bit me.”