The Saucy Lucy Murders (7 page)

The sun had nearly melted her into a puddle and she was breathing pretty heavily by the time Eva came out and grabbed her by the shoulder.

“Mom …
Mom!
”

Lexie dropped her hoe and swung around to face her daughter. “What?”

“You’re going at those weeds like a madwoman.”

Lexie put a hand over her heart, feeling it hammer under her palm. “I am mad. Mad at life.”

“Well, you’re gonna keel over if you don’t knock it off.”

Feeling like a mutt who’d been caught digging holes in the yard, Lexie followed her daughter over to an ancient picnic table and sat down. Eva sat across from her, poured a glass of lemonade and slid
it across the splintered wood.

“Drink,” she commanded.

Lexie swallowed the cool, tart liquid. “Thanks.”

“What’s up?” Eva asked.

“Do you realize that Henry Whitehead is the second man I’ve dated who has died?”

“So?” Eva shrugged. “It’s not like you’re the black widow or anything. It’s just bad luck.”

Ah, the simplicity of youth. So untainted by the real world. Then Lexie remembered Madame Evangeline’s warnings. Should she give them any consideration? Was someone jealous of her? Should she beware the Greek?

What Greek?

For goodness sake. It was silly of her to even take that fortune-telling nonsense into consideration. What was wrong with her, anyway?

“Mom?”

Lexie pulled herself from her deep thoughts. “Yes, honey?”

“Have you heard from Dad lately?”

“No. Have you?”

Eva shook her head, her chocolate brown eyes, the color of her father’s, sad.

“He’s probably just busy,” Lexie reassured her.

“With Davina and their new baby, I bet. I’m sure she’s had it by now.”

“No doubt. Unless she has the gestation period of an elephant.”

“So I could have a little half brother or sister and
I don’t even know its name.”

Lexie didn’t say anything. She took another drink of lemonade.

“Why didn’t you and Dad have any more kids besides me?” Eva tucked strands of hair behind her ears and stared earnestly at her mother.

Memories flooded Lexie’s mind and she wanted to cry out, but she held back. Should she tell Eva or not? Her heart twisted.

“Mom, are you all right?”

Lexie nodded. Eva was eighteen years old, a college student. She was mature enough to handle the truth. It was time. “You had a sister. I named her Elena.”

Eva’s eyes went wide. “What happened? Oh, my gosh, I don’t remember any little sister.”

“You wouldn’t. I was only four months pregnant when I miscarried. I fell down the stairs.”

“I think I remember that, but I didn’t know you were going to have a baby.”

“You were only four, sweetie. You wouldn’t have.”

“I’m sorry, Mom.” Eva reached across the table and took Lexie’s hand. “That must have been pretty awful.”

“It was. But I didn’t just fall, Eva. I was pushed.”

“Pushed? Who pushed you?”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Of course I do! I’ll go kick their butt!”

“No you won’t,” Lexie said quietly. “It was your father.”

Eva’s eyes filled with tears. “Dad? He … he did that to you?”

Lexie recalled Detective Stevenson’s question about whether or not her ex-husband was violent. She had lied. Lied to cover her own embarrassment that she’d put up with his uncontrollable temper for so long and made excuses for his behavior. She’d been so afraid to leave. So afraid of admitting to folks back home she’d made a mistake. And so very afraid of not being able to take care of Eva on her own.

Miserable, Lexie nodded. “He was angry about something I had said or done. It’s been so long now, I don’t even remember.”

“He was mean to you a lot, wasn’t he?”

“Yes.” Lexie wiped hot tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“I’ve known all along,” Eva said. “I have memories.”

“Of what?” Lexie was horrified. She thought she’d hidden her bruises, her fear, and her shame from her daughter.

“His yelling. His slapping and hitting. I remember him coming at you with a gun one time, threatening to shoot you. I remember him locking you out of the house. I cried because I was afraid you’d be cold.”

“Oh, sweetie. You saw all that?” Lexie came around and hugged her daughter. “I tried to spare you the truth. And you knew all along. What a fool I was.”

“Most of it happened at night when you both thought I was asleep. But I’d hear you two and wake up. I’d sit at the top of the stairs and listen. Then I’d sneak back to bed and cry myself to sleep. In the morning, I’d convince myself I’d imagined everything—that it had all been a nightmare.”

Lexie took Eva’s head between her hands. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Eva said. “I wish I could have done something.”

“You were a child. What could you do? But everything’s all right now.”

“I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, sweetie. So very much.” They hugged for a while longer.

Then, sniffling a little, Eva went back in the house to pack. After dinner, she would be driving back to college.

Lexie sat back down and stared at her lemonade. She’d finally admitted to her daughter the awful truth about Dan’s temper, who had known about it all along. It was like a burden had been lifted. A little light had been shed on the dark part of her past. Still, it was a place Lexie didn’t want to visit often.

She had been backed into a corner with Dan for too long, with no way out. She did not like the feeling of being helpless. Which is how she felt right now. And if someone was killing her dates on purpose, maybe they’d have it in for her. Who knows when she’d be next on the hit list?

Lexie swallowed her unease. Surely, someone in this town had answers. While she knew very little about Henry Whitehead, other people must know more. The likely person to do the questioning would be Otis, but Lexie knew he’d leave that to the big guns in Westonville.

Which left Detective Stevenson in charge of working the case. He looked capable enough, but would he ask the right things of the right people? The man had only recently moved here. What did he know about anyone? It would take him twice as long to solve the murder as someone who knew the place intimately.

There was only one person who knew this town and its citizens like the back of her hand. Lexie’s good-hearted, gossip-mongering sister. She’d know all the right people to talk to and all the right questions to ask. If Moose Creek Junction had a pulse, Lucy had her finger on it.

It was clear to Lexie what she needed to do next. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and punched in Lucy’s number. When Lucy answered, Lexie said, “Lucy. I need your help.”

“I don’t like your tone of voice,” Lucy responded.

“I’m worried.”

“About what?”

“Detective Stevenson’s murder investigation.”

“Let him handle it, dear. I’m sure he’s good at what he does. He’s single, by the way. Actually, he’s a widower.”

“Lucy, concentrate. I do not care about Stevenson’s marital status. But I do care about his investigation abilities. What if he’s no good? What if he never finds out who killed Whitehead? What if he decides
I
did it?”

“That would be impossible. The Westonville coroner will determine Henry’s time of death, and I’m sure it will be hours after you went home.”

“Still, don’t you think it’s weird? This is the second man I’ve dated who has turned up dead. What if somebody has it in for me? What if I’m next?”

Lucy was silent a moment. “I never thought of it that way.”

“Well, I have. A lot. And I want to find out who’s been doing my dates in.”

“Otis will kill us if we start snooping around.”

“He doesn’t have to know. We’ll be very careful.”

“Still, I don’t like it one bit.”

“Picture me in an orange jumpsuit with a cigarette hanging out of my mouth,” Lexie said. “Or, worse yet, pushing up daisies.” When Lucy did not respond, Lexie said, “Fine, no need for you to get involved. I’ll just check into this myself.”

“Oh, stop. You are not going to jail and you are not going to die.” Lucy sighed heavily. “You win. I don’t think we’ll find the murderer, but we’ll do some of our own investigations.”

“Excellent. Where do you think we should start? You know this town better than I do. I’ve been away too long.”

The line was silent a moment while Lucy reflected. “At Nailed to the Wall, of course,” she finally said. “Women are as loose-lipped over at Carma Leone’s beauty parlor as teenage girls at a sleepover. We’ll both have a set of acrylic nails put on while we listen to shop-talk.”

Lexie was surprised. Lucy didn’t wear makeup or perfume or anything that would enhance her looks. It was against her religion. “But isn’t vanity a sin?”

“Of course, dear. And I wouldn’t be caught dead there under normal circumstances. But we are, after all, on a mission to try and ferret out a murderer. God will understand.”

Having one’s nails done was far too sinful for a Sunday-go-to meeting gal like Lucy and far too long and painstaking a process for Lexie. But since they would be suffering for a cause, Lexie figured she would bite the bullet.

W
HEN
L
EXIE AND
L
UCY WALKED INSIDE
Nailed to the Wall a few days later, the shop bell tinkled on the door. The place exuded a comfortable feeling with ivy-stenciled walls, floral wreaths and posters with perfect models in perfect clothes advertising the latest hairstyles and nail polish. The floor had thick, rose-colored carpet and there were plenty of mirrors for women to observe themselves after various cosmetic procedures. Unfortunately, it reeked of polish remover and other mysterious substances.

Upon Lexie and Lucy’s entrance, everyone froze in the different stations of beauty treatment— massage, pedicure, manicure, and hairdressing—and looked up. Before long, low, tittering comments flowed across the room.

“Well, well, well,” Carma Leone said as she walked in their direction. “Look what the cat dragged in. The preacher man’s prodigal daughters.”

“Hello, Carma,” Lexie said, ignoring her former classmate’s condescending remarks. “Nice to see you, too. It’s been a long time.” Carma graduated from Moose Creek Junction High School the same year as Lexie. But her looks had changed drastically over the years—for the better.

Back in high school, Carma had been tall and plump. Her hair had been greasy; she’d worn dorky glasses and perpetually slumped her shoulders. Now the ugly duckling had blossomed into a lovely woman with dark, exotic good looks and mysterious green eyes. Her black smock and black slacks emphasized her sleek, sophisticated look. Sleek and sophisticated like Cat Woman.

Carma’s dark brows arched into an expression of curiosity and she folded her arms across her chest. “What brings you ladies here today?”

“Would you have time to do our nails this morning?” Lexie held up her ragged paws.

Carma’s dark brows arched. “I’m dying to know why two little brown sparrows such as yourselves would care to have your nails done.”

“I suppose that’s our business, Carma,” Lucy said. “Unless you’d rather we drive over to Westonville and pay someone else to do them.”

Carma smiled, but her right eye began to twitch a little. “Actually, I have a cancellation this morning and so does Georgia. We’d be more than happy to take care of you.”

“Thank you.” Lexie wished desperately she
could give Cat Woman a piece of her mind. But it would be pointless to irritate Carma. They were here to soak up the latest gossip and she wasn’t about to let her personal feelings ruin the opportunity.

“Georgia will do your nails, Lucy. Go ahead and have a seat at her station and she’ll be right back. She’s just powdering her nose.” Carma pointed toward a desk adjacent to hers and Lucy lowered into a chair.

“You’re looking good,” Lexie said to Cat Woman as she sat at her station. “And you seem to be doing good with your business.”

Carma sent her an icy, insincere smile. “I’m so sorry to hear about your parents passing away. And your divorce. You and Dan always seemed so meant for each other.” Her face took on a peculiar expression.

“Things change.” Lexie fought down the sting of Dan’s betrayal for the millionth time.

Carma started to buff Lexie’s short, ragged nails. “And your daughter? How is she doing?”

“It was rough at first, with the divorce and all. But now she’s fine. She’s a freshman at Westonville University this fall.”

“My, my, children do grow up fast. I understand you’re a business owner, too.”

Lexie nodded. “Lucy and I own The Saucy Lucy Café on Willow Street.”

“I suppose I need to stop by there sometime and have a bite to eat. I hear it’s excellent.”

Huh? Lexie had seen Carma there a few months
ago, right after Eva’s high school graduation in June. Maybe she’d forgotten. Or maybe Lexie had been mistaken. Oh, well. “Sure. Any time. I make a mean huckleberry pie you might want to try.”

Carma rolled her eyes. “Like I need those kinds of calories.”

Lexie laughed. “We’ll make it a very small piece. That won’t ruin your figure. By the way, how’s your grandfather doing these days?”

“He died a couple of years back.”

“I’m so sorry. I always enjoyed talking with him when I was a kid. Loved his army stories.”

“Pops always was a real gas. He told the same stories over and over, but my mom and I just pretended we were hearing them for the first time. I do miss him. And my mother. She’s gone now, too. I don’t have anyone except my aunt and …” She cleared her throat. “Do you have any idea what color of polish you want?”

Carma’s eyes filled with tears and she looked down. She got very busy with Lexie’s nails, filing them with a vengeance.

“Red, I guess.” Lexie felt a stab of sadness. Even though Carma had never been very friendly toward her, it was awful to lose a loved one.

About that time the absent Georgia made an appearance, sashaying into the room, her long, flowered muumuu flowing dramatically. “Thanks for being so patient, honey,” the blond woman with dark black roots said to Lucy in a heavy southern accent.
She dropped her heavyset frame into her chair and reached for Lucy’s hand. “I just couldn’t hold it any longer. And y’all know it ain’t healthy to hold off for
too
long.”