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 food.”
“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.”
Seb frowned. Lulu could tell he didn’t have a clue in the world why Sara and Susan’s gallery would be mentioned in the same sentence. As irritated as she was with her son, she hated seeing him look so oblivious.
“You
know
, Seb. Sara’s art.” Lulu pressed hard on Seb’s toes under the table with her foot. “Susan finally talked her into showing it at Southern Accents yesterday. You’ll have to run by and see it,” she added in a more threatening than encouraging tone.
Seb grunted from the pressure on his foot, then said, “Yes, ma’am, I’ll have to do that.” Then he flashed his slow smile, and Lulu saw Susan melt right then and there. Lulu gritted her teeth.
Susan gulped and tried to pull it together. “Your mother and I were talking about business at the restaurant.”
Seb raised a dark eyebrow. “Business is great. I worked on the numbers today. They look fantastic.”
Susan blushed. “Well, yes. I mean, I’m
sure
it has been great.” She looked to Lulu for a lifeline.
“Sales look great for
before
the murder, Seb.” Lulu was knocking on the wooden table. “We seem to have gotten ourselves mixed up in a poisoning, so we can’t be feeling cocky about our numbers.”
Seb shrugged. “People want barbeque, Mother. I doubt they’re really going to think about it. The lunch crowd was good.”
“Because people are curious, Seb. There are television cameras out there and reporters. They just want to see what’s going on. But what’ll happen after that?”
Seb lost interest in the conversation. “I’m sure there’ll still be plenty of guests tonight and tomorrow, too. We’ve got a great band lineup. They’ll be here when the music starts playing.”
“No, they won’t, because there won’t
be
a blues band. They cancelled tonight’s appearance, and the one for tomorrow night cancelled, too. I guess they’re afraid they might be murdered while they’re playing.” Lulu finally noticed that Seb had his laptop bag with him. “Where are you going, by the way?”
“It’s quitting time,” drawled Seb calmly.
“Is it? Well, I guess I’ll have to take my watch by Bing’s Clock Shop, because by my watch, Aunt Pat’s is open another four hours.”
Now Seb frowned in irritation. “I’ll check back in later, Mom.” He quickly exited the screen porch, letting the door slam behind him. Lulu clucked. That was the last she’d see of Seb for the rest of the day, she knew it.
Susan stared at the spot where he’d last stood. “I’d better go, too, Lulu. Call me later when you get the chance?”
Lulu rocked violently in her chair. Everything about this day had gone wrong from the start.
Before
the start. She couldn’t wait for the moment when she pulled those cotton checked sheets up to her chin, laid her head on her feather pillow, and put today to bed for good.
Then she saw three familiar figures coming into the porch. Big Ben, Morty, and Buddy. She couldn’t do anything else but smile at the sight of her friends. They hugged her, then peeked into the dining room.
Buddy shook his head. “Can’t believe how empty that room is. I never thought I’d see the day.”
“More food for us!” grinned Morty, rubbing his good-sized belly.
Lulu turned serious. “It’s been a rough day for us. Once the curiosity seekers left, we didn’t get our regulars back. The live blues acts cancelled their gigs ‘out of respect for the recent events.’ The tourists have been walking right on by when there’s nobody lined up to get in. I guess they figure the more-popular-looking places look like better bets.”
Big Ben gave a harrumphing cough. Apparently the cough was a signal to the others to tell Lulu something. “Do you think,” asked Buddy, “tomorrow evening would be a good night for a blues concert on your porch? We thought we’d revive the Back Porch Blues Band. Gratis, of course. Nothing too big or fancy,” he hurried on, “but a size such as three blues musicians in their eighties could comfortably handle.”
Lulu felt tears welling in her eyes. She nodded.
“We didn’t want to take up too much of your space, honey,” said Morty. “This joint is going to be hopping with paying customers as soon as we start to play and they start smelling that barbeque cooking. I’m going to get my boys to bring in some bongo drums, and we’ll have a guitar, a bass, a trumpet, and a harmonica. There’ll be some heavenly music pouring out on the street.”