Lois Lane Tells All

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Lois Lane Tells All Page 22

by Karen Hawkins


  Susan noted that Clara’s hands were even more bejeweled than ever and that Rose’s red wig looked recently combed, while C.J. sported a brand-new pair of tennis shoes.

  Tundy, resplendent in her pink velour track suit, held up her hands and said in a loud voice, “People, thank you all for coming here tonight. We’re very glad to see you—very, very glad to see some of you, while the rest—” She suddenly frowned. “Wait a minute. We didn’t invite all of you. Some of you will have to leave.”

  Connie leaned across the counter. “Tundy, I said you could have your meeting here, but I can’t close everything down. Some of these people are my paying customers.”

  Tundy sniffed but, after a brief—and noisy—consultation with her gang, she nodded. “OK. We’ll let them stay.”

  “You’d better,” Connie said cheerfully. She turned and tried to catch Ethan’s gaze.

  “What’s this meeting about?” Doc Wilson asked.

  “We have an announcement to make.” Tundy pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket. She unfolded it, then began to read. “‘We, the Murder Mystery Club, do—’”

  “—of the Pine Hills Assisted Living Center,” Rose added.

  Tundy nodded. “‘—do hereby announce that we have done solved a real, bona fide mystery!’”

  There was a moment of silence and then Roxie asked, “What mystery?”

  “Don’t rush us,” Tundy said. “You’ll find out soon enough.” She turned. “C.J., the chart.”

  The old man smiled gently at everyone.

  Tundy cleared her throat. “C.J., the chart.”

  He blinked, his smile fading. “What chart?”

  “The one from Rose’s room. The one we worked on all afternoon.”

  “I didn’t bring it.”

  “What?” Tundy said, her eyes almost bulging.

  “I thought we’d finished it.”

  Clara slapped the arm of her wheelchair. “Damn it, C.J.! We used up all of Miss Moore’s pink highlighters on that thing!”

  Tundy frowned at C.J., but after shaking her head, she turned back to Rose and Clara. “We’ll just have to go on without it.” She faced the assembled guests and lifted her hands as if parting the Red Sea. “OK, people, listen up! We’ve done solved a mystery and we thought we’d go ahead and give you all the down low.”

  Roxie chuckled. “Tundy, I think you mean the ‘lowdown.’”

  “Whatever. OK, here’s what we know. Someone in this town broke into our rooms and tried to steal something. We finally figured out what it was—one of our dossiers.”

  Ethan straightened and asked loudly, “Tell us about those dossiers?”

  Mitzi Ketteringer put down her latte, her expression scandalized. “Dossiers? Like the government does on people?”

  “I don’t think that’s legal,” the new pastor said, frowning.

  Clara made an impatient noise. “Will you all stop asking so many questions? We can’t do our presentation if we’re interrupted every two minutes.”

  Ethan ignored her. “You made dossiers of everyone here in town? That’s why you were taking pictures of my ass.”

  Connie whirled to face Clara. “You have pictures of Ethan’s ass?”

  Ethan turned to look at Connie, whose face flooded bright red. “I-I-I,” she stammered, her gaze shooting back to Tundy, “I can’t believe you’d take pictures of Ethan’s ass!”

  “Got more than one.” Clara patted the box at her feet. “If you want a copy, just say the word.”

  Connie waited until Ethan was looking another direction before she gave Clara a hearty thumbs-up.

  Clara nodded sagely.

  “As I was sayin’,” Tundy continued, sending Clara a mind-yourself glare, “we put together dossiers on everyone in town—”

  “Even me?” Doc Wilson said, looking astounded.

  “Yup!”

  “I want to see it.” He stood.

  “Me, too.” Deloris Fishbine rose and hurried forward.

  Clara hovered over the box, her cane waving in the air like a sword. “Get yourselves back into your chairs! No one’s gettin’ a peak at these. At least not until we’re done with them.”

  After eyeing Clara’s cane, Doc resumed his seat, but Deloris was made of sterner stuff. “I am not going to sit down,” she announced. “I know my rights! I’ve been to a confidentiality conference and I know all about privacy and the right to search, and all of it!”

  Clara lowered her cane. “Deloris, you’ve been to one conference in your whole life. That was last year and it was in Raleigh. I know ’cause you told me when you was buying lemonade just a few weeks ago.”

  “It doesn’t matter where or when the conference was. The point is, I went and I want to see what’s in my folder. I’m not going to sit down until I do.”

  “I wish I still had my taser,” Clara said wistfully.

  “Me, too,” Rose agreed.

  Tundy sighed. “Deloris, what if we promise to let you see your folder after we finish with our investigation?”

  “And when will that be?”

  “In about ten minutes, if you’ll sit your ass down and let us finish our presentation.”

  After a long moment, Deloris marched back to her seat and plopped into her chair, her color high.

  “Now,” Tundy said, “back to our presentation. One of the problems with living in Glory is that there’s not a lot happening at any given time.”

  “Amen,” Pat muttered.

  “Fortunately for all of us concerned—that’d be me, mostly—while we were in the process of making money at the lemonade stand for our new CSI lab and getting all of your fingerprints for our dossiers—”

  “What?” Deloris gasped.

  The new pastor leaned forward, an intense expression on his handsome face. “You got them from the lemonade glasses?”

  Ethan’s brow lowered. “You did not.”

  “Anyway,” Clara continued, “someone started a campaign to steal our dossiers. They broke into Tundy’s room first, and then later into Rose’s, though we didn’t think they’d taken anything.”

  “That’s what we thought,” Rose agreed, “until Sheriff Sheppard figured things out.”

  Tundy didn’t look happy that Rose had mentioned that aspect. “Which he sorta did, with our help. We wanted to capture the thief on our own but—”

  “Just get to it!” Clara ordered.

  “Yeah!” Rose confirmed.

  Tundy nodded. “OK, then. We know who took the file from the dossier box—”

  “Which we didn’t know was missing until the sheriff thought to go through and see whose file was gone,” Clara explained.

  Rose nodded. “I thought the thief was after my dentures.”

  “But apparently this lowdown critter was after something else.” Tundy paused dramatically. “The person who stole the file was—”

  Pastor MacMillan stood up. “I took the file,” he said calmly.

  A collective gasp rose across the room.

  “You didn’t!” Lucy Carpenter breathed.

  “Yes, I did. I had to.”

  Lucy’s face was so red it seemed as if she might start smoking at any moment. She stood now, her hands visibly trembling. “No, you didn’t. I know because I took the file.”

  The pastor scowled. “Lucy, please. Don’t say another word.”

  She reached across the table, took one of his hands and held it tightly. “Please? I need to do this. I have to. It’s … it’s time.”

  He smiled gently. “Are you sure? You don’t have to do this here. We could wait for the next board meeting and—”

  “No. It’s better if everyone knows. All at once.” She was so pale that Susan wondered if the woman might faint.

  The preacher patted Lucy’s hand and then released it. “OK, then. Remember, Pastor Lawrence and I are right here. We’ll back you every step of the way.”

  “Amen,” the younger pastor said softly, smiling encouragement.

  Lucy s
wallowed hard as, clutching her hands before her, she turned to face the group. “I admit it, then. I-I stole the file.”

  “We know,” Clara said with a satisfied gleam in her eyes. “That’s the only one missing.”

  Susan leaned forward. “But why?”

  Tundy shot her an exasperated look. “Because she didn’t want no one to have her fingerprints!”

  Rose pointed to Lucy. “Admit the rest of it now. You was a criminal before, and you’re still one. In fact, you took the missing money from last year’s Bake-Off, didn’t you?”

  Every eye pinned the tiny woman in place.

  Lucy straightened her shoulders. “I didn’t take the file because of the fingerprints. I took the file because of the receipts you found in my trash can the night you woke up Doc Wilson.”

  “The receipts?” Clara pondered this a moment. “I don’t remember what those were for.”

  Rose shrugged. “Me, neither. I just stampled ’em in there.”

  Lucy gave a slightly hysterical laugh. “Lovely.”

  “What were the receipts for?” Susan asked.

  “Gambling. I-I have a problem.” Lucy glanced at Pastor MacMillan who smiled calmly. She took a deep breath and continued, “I’ve always played the slots and such, but last year … I don’t know what happened, but it got out of control and I-I just lost. And then lost some more and then more. I broke my computer, hoping that would stop me, but then I started going to the library.”

  Deloris suddenly gasped. “Is that what you’ve been doing in the library every day?”

  Lucy nodded miserably.

  “But we have locks on those sites and—”

  “I know how to get around that.” Lucy covered her face for a moment. “I shouldn’t have gone, but I just couldn’t stop. Before I knew what had happened, I’d lost all of the profit for the year’s Bake-Off.”

  “Thirty thousand dollars,” Susan said.

  A loud murmur broke out as people reacted.

  Lucy nodded, her cheeks bright red against her pale skin. “When I realized what I had done, I told Pastor MacMillan. He was so kind, so nice—” Lucy choked on a sob.

  Pastor Lawrence was out of his chair before the sob died. He handed his napkin to Lucy and slipped an arm about her shoulders.

  She mopped her eyes and continued, “Pastor MacMillan set up a payment plan so I could fix things.”

  “And got the board changed out so that no one would know what happened,” Mark finished.

  Lucy nodded. “I know you are all mad at me, but I didn’t mean to do it. It just happened. I’m seeing a counselor now and I’m on medication and—” She gulped. “That doesn’t bring it back, though.”

  A long silence followed.

  Doc Wilson rubbed his chin. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight: you took some money.”

  Lucy nodded.

  “And you’ve been paying it back ever since?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’d call that a loan, not a theft.”

  Connie nodded. “Yup, definitely a loan.”

  To everyone’s surprise, Robin Wright spoke up. “So long as you were paying it back, I don’t see the issue.”

  Everyone started nodding.

  “Wait a minute!” Rose said loudly. “We got us a criminal. You all can’t just uncriminal her like that! It’s not Christian!”

  The new pastor chuckled dryly. “Actually, it is.”

  “Damn,” Tundy said. “I thought we had us a real criminal, and all we got was a gambling grandma.”

  “Nothing wrong with a little gambling,” C.J. said in an unexpectedly clear voice. “Do it myself.” At everyone’s surprised look, he reddened and added, “Now and then.”

  “Well,” Rose said. “I guess there’s only one thing to be done. Nick, arrest Miz Carpenter so we can all go home.”

  Clara nodded. “There’s a Barnaby Jones on Nick at Night, and the TiVo isn’t working.”

  Lucy left the shelter of Pastor Lawrence’s arm and walked to where Nick stood at the counter. “I’m ready, Sheriff. Take me away.”

  Nick rubbed his chin. “I can’t.”

  She blinked. “You can’t?”

  “Nope. No one’s reported a crime.”

  Lucy’s eyes were wide.

  Pastor MacMillan stood. “That’s true! We didn’t.”

  “Wait a minute!” Tundy said. “What about our break-ins? We were invaded, our privacy violated and—”

  “Hold it,” Nick said. “Tundy, both times you had a break-in, I asked you if you wanted to file a report, and you told me no.”

  “I didn’t have time for no reports then, but you can arrest that thief now.”

  “Now wait,” Clara said. “Miz Tundy, you tol’ us you was filing police reports.”

  “I was goin’ to, but those forms are as long as your arm. I didn’t have no time, not with tryin’ to get all of those dossiers done, and tendin’ to my singin’ efforts.”

  “You and that damn karaoke,” Rose said in a disgusted voice. “First, we have to listen to you ‘practicing’ all day long—”

  “Caterwauling is more like it,” Clara said.

  Rose nodded. “And then we find out you’ve been derelict in your duties to the club.”

  Clara shook her head sadly. “Miz Tundy, we are so disappointed in you.”

  Behind her, C.J. shook his head in the exact same manner.

  “That don’t matter,” Tundy said stoutly. “We’ve got us a crime, and we have to arrest a criminal or the case isn’t closed.”

  “Bull hockey!” Clara said.

  “No kiddin’,” Rose agreed.

  Tundy frowned at her charges. “What’s wrong with you?”

  Clara scowled through her thick glasses. “We don’t mind being investigators, but I’ll be damned if we’ll lock up good people. There aren’t enough of them out here as it is.”

  “Yup, and while Lucy may be a snarky bitch,” Rose added, “she ain’t no criminal.”

  Nick tucked the folder under his arm. “Tundy, I guess you’ve been outvoted.”

  “I guess so,” Tundy said sourly.

  Nick turned to the pastor. “I’m sorry you didn’t come to me and let me know. I could have put your mind at ease.”

  “We should have,” Lucy said, wiping her eyes.

  “No kidding,” Ethan said, grinning. “If you’d come to me, I probably could have gotten Tundy and her gang to hand over the folder in exchange for some beefcake shots.”

  Clara turned to Rose. “He could have, you know.”

  Rose nodded. “I’d have taken that bribe.”

  “Me, too,” Tundy agreed.

  “Me three,” Connie agreed, blushing when Ethan shot her a surprised look.

  Pastor MacMillan wiped his eyes and turned to the new pastor. “These people are why you’ve got the best job in the world.”

  Scott chuckled. “I see why you keep saying Glory’s a magical place. I am counting on that.”

  Susan glanced at Mark from under her lashes to see if he’d heard that, but he was frowning at Nick, as if there was something more the sheriff was supposed to have done but hadn’t.

  Why, even now, with such a wonderful example of the quality of people found in Glory, couldn’t he at least think about staying here?

  Well, she wasn’t so afflicted. This was why she’d never leave Glory. If only he could see that.

  “Hold on a moment,” Connie said. “Did you guys ever find out who was trying to hurt Susan? Nick?”

  Nick crossed his arms. “Actually, I know who it is. I just need a little more evidence.”

  “Who is it?” Tundy asked eagerly.

  “Yeah,” Pat said, pulling out her notebook. “Who is this phantom?”

  “I’ll let you know soon. Very soon.”

  Clara’s face fell. “That means you don’t know, but don’t want to admit it. Don’t you worry none, Miz Susan. We’ll follow you around until you’re killed, so we’ll know for sure.”

&
nbsp; Connie laughed. “Well, that’s not effective, but it’s certainly a thorough way of catching a criminal.” She pulled out a stack of plates. “OK, people, there’s a special on pecan pie! Anyone who orders a piece in the next ten minutes gets it, and a coffee, for a mere five-dollar donation to our new Help Lucy Fund!”

  Chapter 20

  It was a lovely way to end a meeting. Nick slipped an arm around Roxie’s shoulder and whispered something into her ear before he turned to Susan. “There’s one more thing I need to speak to you about. Would you mind stepping out into the parking lot with me?”

  She shrugged. “Sure.” She followed Nick outside to his cruiser, where he unlocked the trunk and tossed in the file he’d brought.

  “What was in there?” she asked.

  He grinned. “My budget report. I didn’t want Clara to think she had all of the evidence.”

  “You handled that really well and I—”

  The door opened and Roxie and Mark came out.

  Nick lifted his brows. “Hi, you two. Can I help you?”

  “Just hanging out in the parking lot,” Mark said blandly. “No law against that, is there?”

  “No, but I wanted to talk to Susan. Alone.”

  The door opened again and this time Pat ambled out. She saw the group and stopped, then walked jerkily toward the newspaper building.

  Nick watched her. “I also need to talk to Pat.” He stepped away from his car and lifted his voice. “Pat!”

  She froze in place.

  “Come here, please! Got a question for you!”

  She stiffened, her hands fisted at her sides. Slowly, she turned and walked toward them. She stopped an awkward distance away, an uncertain look on her face. “What?”

  “Susan would like to ask you a question.” Nick looked at Susan.

  Susan grimaced but faced Pat. For a long moment, she just looked at the older woman.

  Finally, Nick said softly, “Susan, either you do it, or I will.”

  Susan rubbed her forehead. “I don’t really want—”

  “It was me,” Pat said.

  Everyone looked at her.

  Her face was bright pink, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “I cut the brake lines in Susan’s Jeep and drilled a hole in her boat.”

  Mark gaped. “Why would you try to harm Susan?”

 

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