Ladies' Circle of Murder (A Lacy Steele Mystery Book 8)

Table of Contents

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Chapter 1

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Chapter 2

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Chapter 3

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Chapter 4

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Chapter 5

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Chapter 6

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Chapter 7

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Chapter 8

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Chapter 9

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Chapter 10

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Chapter 11

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Chapter 12

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Chapter 13

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Chapter 14

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Chapter 15

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Chapter 16

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Chapter 17

Copyright © 2015 Vanessa Gray Bartal

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Chapter 1

Lacy Steele was not hungry. She did not need to eat. But the scent drifting through her office was enough to send her olfactory nerves into paroxysms of desire.

Recently the ice cream shop downstairs had started making waffle cones. All day the smell of fresh cookies wafted through the Stakely building. It was more than Lacy could handle. Ice cream was one thing; she could refuse it on most days. But a fresh-baked waffle cone was another. She could refuse it by sight. But that smell…

No. She had set herself a strict limit of one a day and she had already met it. A rough day was not justification to up her quota. People would talk if they saw her make another trip downstairs. On the other hand, Michael was the most likely culprit to tease her, and he was still in Ireland. But, no. She was strong. It was only a waffle cone. Just a simple combination of flour and eggs that, when baked, smelled like heaven in a cylinder.

Stop thinking about waffle cones,
she commanded herself as she faced forward and sat up straight. She had work to do and no time to waste thinking about delicious, delicious waffle cones.

Her fingers drummed on the desktop. She was not hungry. Or was she? Maybe she was. In fact, now that she thought about it, she was famished. Her blood sugar level was sinking. That meant she needed a snack, right? But not a waffle cone, something healthy. Kale, maybe. It was all the rage these days. She hadn’t run this morning or many mornings lately. She needed all the help she could get in her diet, especially because her pants were feeling uncomfortably tight lately.

She opened her drawer and stared at the contents. No kale. But there was a pre-packaged brownie, and it had some green candy on top. That was sort of the same thing, she thought as she reached for it and headed to her closet to unwrap it.

She was finishing the last bite when someone entered her office.

“Lacy?”

It was Jason. Lacy froze. If she answered, she would have to tell him what she was doing. If she didn’t answer, he would ask later where she had been and she would have to confess to hiding in the closet and not answering when he called. Better to fess up now.

“Hi,” she said.

His footsteps neared until she saw his brown leather oxfords peeping under the door. “Why are you in the closet?” He asked with the tone of someone who wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

“I was eating a brownie.”

“That doesn’t answer the question of why,” he said.

“If I don’t see it, then the calories don’t count,” she explained.

He paused. “Are you okay?”

“My mother’s still here,” she answered. Her mother had arrived two weeks ago for the birth of Riley’s baby. But Riley’s baby, being as capricious as its mother, had decided not to show. After three trips to the hospital with false labor, all contractions had stopped. And for the last fourteen days, Lacy’s stress level had been off the charts; her self-esteem had taken a nosedive. Was it any wonder she had turned to her old friend, food, for comfort?

“I know,” Jason said, and his words were weighted. Jason had been on the receiving end of Frannie Steele’s velvet-covered venom, too. She was the master at wrapping an insult in a compliment, leaving the object of her disdain no way to defend himself.
Oh, Jason, isn’t it wonderful that you made detective? And with so little college education, too. How lucky that you decided to settle in a small town where your accomplishments could mean so much.
He was being patient. He was a saint. He opened the door. Lacy swiped at her lips, making sure there was no chocolate fudge. Or maybe she was smearing it worse. Jason smiled at her, and a little of her tension melted away.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she replied.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” he said, and her tension returned.

“What?” she asked warily.

“Don’t say no,” he said, and she glanced longingly at the brownie drawer. He took her hand and led her out of the closet, seating her in a chair while he perched on the edge of her desk.

“Why would I say no?” she asked.

“Hear me out,” he said.

“You’re scaring me.”

“I’m not trying to. I simply want you to keep an open mind,” he said.

“My mind is like an all night truck stop.”

“Huh?”

“It’s open. Proceed.”

“You know how you’re always saying that we need to do things together as a couple,” he said.

“Yes,” she prompted.

“And you said we should find things that appeal to both of us, so we’re not always doing what you want to do or what I want to do,” he said.

“Okay,” she said.

“I found something I want to do. Together.”

“What is it?” she asked.

“Remember that you promised not to say no without thinking it through,” he said.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Dodgeball.”

He was trying to kill her. He wanted her dead. What other explanation could there be? She blinked at him, taking it in, trying to maintain her vow not to say no without thinking it through. “That’s an interesting suggestion,” she said.

“I know you’ve had some bad luck with dodgeball in the past,” he said.

“A concussion is a little more than bad luck. I couldn’t say the letter N for six hours,” Lacy said.

“My point is that now you have me and, not to brag, but I’ve never lost at dodgeball. Ever. We’ll be a team. I’ll show you that it can be fun. I won’t let you get skunked, I promise,” he said.

Can you stop the earth from spinning?
How else did he propose to stop the inevitable? Round objects found her head. It was a fact of life she had come to accept after a volleyball broke her glasses and dislocated her nose. And she hadn’t even been in the gym at the time. She had simply been walking from science class to the bathroom when a ball flew out of the gym and nailed her in the face, knocking her to the ground. Her eighth grade P.E. teacher, Mrs. Clutter, said she had never seen a ball go around a corner like that before.
Like it had a will of its own, like it had a mission,
had been her exact words, and Lacy had never forgotten.

“This is not going to end well for me,” Lacy said.

“Trust me,” Jason said.

He shifted and his shirt gaped, revealing a flash of his well-muscled stomach. Lacy wondered if she could get away with putting her eye to the gap and using it like a peephole. She never got tired of seeing his abs. They were a miracle of nature.

“I lost you,” he said.

“I was thinking about miracles,” Lacy said.

“That’s deep,” Jason said.

“I’m an ab. Byss. An Abyss.” Now she was blushing. Jason gave her the look, the one that seemed to say that she wasn’t quite right, but she was his and he loved her anyway. He pulled her up to stand in front of him.

“If you play dodgeball with me, I’ll make it worth your while,” he said.

She would do it because he asked her to, but it would be interesting to hear what he proposed to sweeten the deal. “What did you have in mind?”

“Michael’s motorcycle is in my garage, and I have the keys. On my next day off, we’ll take a ride. Wherever you want to go,” he said.

It was a generous officer. Lacy loved motorcycles. As a man, Jason had no problem with them. As a police officer, he had seen tragic outcomes too many times.
A bug to a windshield is like a motorcyclist to pavement,
he had said on more than one occasion.

“All right,” Lacy agreed. “Let’s dodgeball. But if I lose the ability to say the letter N on a permanent basis, it’s on your head.”

“It’s a chance I’m willing to take,” he said.

“You might not be if you have to hear me call you Jaso for all eternity,” she said.

“As long as you’re calling me something for all eternity, I don’t care what it is,” he said and kissed her.

He was always saying sweet, romantic things and then kissing her before she could reply, which was good because she wasn’t as skilled at saying sweet things as he was. The last time she tried, it devolved into saying something about his well-manicured cuticles.

His head moved slightly south and Lacy went to that place she went whenever his lips touched her neck. She wasn’t sure what happened, but a tidal wave could overtake the building and, as long as he was kissing her, she would stand there stupidly and let it carry her away.

“I should go,” he said eventually, and Lacy came back to attention. Maybe he was a hypnotist. How else to explain her over-the-top reaction to him and his lips? He walked toward the door, but at the last minute stuck his head back inside. “By the way, it starts tonight.”

Lacy stood up so quickly again she bashed her knees and shins on her desk. “What?” It was too late, though. He was already gone.

She had just sat down again when her phone rang. It was her sister. “Meet me downstairs,” Riley said.

“Is something wrong?” Lacy asked.

“Yes, I’m twelve months pregnant. Get down here.” She hung up.

So much for the softening effects of pregnancy,
Lacy thought. First the morning sickness had made her miserable. Then she gained an alarming amount of weight. Now their mother was in town. Lacy felt sorry for her, but her patience was also worn thin. At least the pregnancy meant her mother was staying with Riley and Tosh instead of her and her grandmother.

She went downstairs and saw Riley leaning in the entryway, panting.

“Are you in labor?” Lacy asked.

“No. This is how I breathe now. It’s like there’s a medicine ball on my lungs at all times. And don’t get me started on my bladder.”

“I won’t,” Lacy assured her.

“Let’s sit down,” Riley said as she headed toward the ice cream shop. They sat at one of the cute little tables with heart-shaped metal chairs. The chairs looked delicate. Lacy worried for their safety under her sister’s girth, but she wisely kept that thought to herself.