by Kym Roberts
She didn’t buy it, but didn’t say, OMW, girl, I wasn’t born in The Barn yesterday either. She nodded and asked, “Are you heading for the diner to get lunch?”
“Yeah; wanna join me?”
“That sounds like the best offer I’ve had today.” She looked like her day had started out worse than mine. Granted, she was dressed a hundred times better than I was, in a red bottleneck dress that hugged every curve down to her knees, with five-inch heels to match. Her hair swooped down over her right eye in a glamorous wave like Jessica Rabbit and her makeup was perfect. But despite her glamourous appearance, there were circles under her eyes that told me she’d gotten less sleep than I had.
We headed down the street and I told her I’d met Aubrey and her boyfriend Darrin. She let me in on the gossip of Hazel Rock. Darrin was a senior, the star quarterback, and leading the town’s dreams for a state championship. Aubrey was a girl from my side of town.
It really sounded like history was repeating itself and made me want to warn Aubrey to head for the hills.
We made it down to the diner, and I wondered how Scarlet had managed to wear heels in the dirt without breaking an ankle. Her skin was dry and smooth, while I was baking in the heat of the day and all too glad to step up onto the covered porch of the Hazel Rock Diner.
When we entered the restaurant, all the friendly chatter stopped. Dead silence surrounded us. I was very familiar with that particular sound.
Glasses and forks were suspended in midair and I wanted to say, Seriously? Finish your bite. Then turn to the table of high school students and say, Drink your milk and grow up. Then we’ll talk.
I didn’t, though. Instead, that hankering to run returned as everyone tilted, twisted, and leaned to take a look at me.
In the experience category, it ranked at about a two.
“Y’all need to learn some manners. That’s not how y’all should be greeting a friend who’s returned home after being gone for such a long stretch.” Scarlet put her hands on her curvaceous hips as she waited for a response from the lunch crowd.
A few grumbled acknowledgments didn’t appease her and she snorted her disapproval, ready to chew them up and spit them out any second. I grabbed her arm and headed for a booth in the back. I’d recognized most of the faces that were staring us down, from the barber to the baker. Thank God Hazel Rock didn’t have a candlestick maker. The quilt maker, Betty Walker, however, was among them.
Along with a certain mayor and a football coach.
I avoided making any kind of eye contact.
“You can’t let folks disrespect you like that,” Scarlet insisted.
“I can’t force them to respect me.” I slunk into the booth the same way I had last time I’d graced this diner.
“Everyone deserves respect.”
“Unless they seduced a football player or killed a Realtor.”
“But you didn’t. On either account.”
“They think I did. On both accounts. I shouldn’t have come.” I started to get up.
Scarlet’s blue eyes crystalized as she stared me down. “Don’t you dare. You need to eat.” She tapped the table with her index finger. “Sit.”
I obeyed like one of my students, my body sunk down low into the faux leather bench seat with both shoulders hunched forward. I didn’t do it because Scarlet browbeat me, I did it because I realized I was absolutely, positively starving and the bacon cheeseburger at the next table smelled like heaven. Yet the whispers circulating through the restaurant were weighing on me.
“I could have just ordered a pizza.” My suggestion was half-hearted at best.
“Our pizza delivery stopped years ago.”
“What?”
She nodded her head sadly.
“But that’s impossible.”
“Not when the size of the town’s population drops the way it has in Hazel Rock. Everyone moved to Oak Grove when they built the new Country Mart there.”
“Country Mart moved to Oak Grove? Why didn’t Country Mart build the new store in Hazel Rock?”
“Cade’s daddy wouldn’t give them a tax break on the land. He lost his reelection over it.”
“Cade ran against his daddy?”
That brought a smile to Scarlet’s face. “He ran for mayor the following term and won by a landslide.”
“Who was the mayor in between Cade and old man Calloway?” I asked, unable to fathom who could possibly beat a Calloway.
She shrugged. “You’re going to find out sooner or later. It was Marlene.”
I groaned and hid behind the grease-covered menu the waitress dropped with a slap against the wooden table. The town obviously held Marlene in high esteem—enough that she’d bested Cade Calloway Senior in an election.
“I heard you were back in town, Princess.”
“Charli,” I corrected the speaker before I realized it was Coach Purcell’s form blocking my view of the rest of the diner’s inhabitants. His girth had almost doubled, but his whistle still hung around his neck on a bright blue lanyard. His wardrobe hadn’t changed a bit either. He still wore an oversize polo, but today it was covered by a long-sleeved Windbreaker with “Hazel Rock High School Football” embroidered on the front left pocket. Luckily, his long nylon shorts still covered his knees, but his skinny calves, which were in direct opposition to the size of the rest of him, were still exposed. The one thing that was different was the ball cap on his head. I didn’t remember Coach wearing a cap, he’d had a full head of red hair that he had a tendency to grab and pull during the games.
I couldn’t help but wonder if he had pulled it all out.
It was the smile on Coach Purcell’s face that really caught me off-guard. The coach never smiled. He grunted and cussed at the football players. The rest of us didn’t exist . . . unless we were football boosters.
“It’s nice to see you, Coach.” I wasn’t sure whether my attempt at pleasantry would pass the Southern hospitality test, but Scarlet stepped in and took control.
“How’s the team holding up in this heat, Coach? Are the new misters working for the boys?”
Coach’s face lit up. “They’ve been a godsend, Scarlet. Thanks for getting behind that campaign. Those new haircuts are helping too.”
I probably looked confused because the coach went on to explain. “We had a fund-raiser to raise enough money to buy water misters for the sidelines after one of the boys collapsed from the heat during our two-a-days. We auctioned off our hair to the highest bidder and let Scarlet shave any design the winner wanted on our heads.”
My eyebrows shot up. I thought of all the dirty things people had shaved on their heads. Surely not.
“Within reason of course,” Scarlet piped in, knowing exactly where my thoughts had headed.
“The Oak Grove coach won the bid on my head.” Coach Purcell turned his head and pulled the school ball cap off, exposing hair that looked like he’d just entered military boot camp. The one difference? A bulldog with the letters OGHS was still visible despite his hair growing back enough to cover the skin.
“Oh.” Oak Grove had been our rivals since before I was born. I knew it had to kill the coach to have that on his head, but he just laughed.
“It’s for the team. We needed those misters and Coach Wiley helped us attain them with his five-hundred-dollar donation.”
I nearly choked on the water the waitress had left for us. “Five hundred dollars?”
“He didn’t think I’d wear a hat to cover it up. He misjudged our Hazel Rock pride.” Coach Purcell smiled, his teeth surprisingly very white and straight, and put the hat back on his head. “We raised enough money to buy two misters and have plans to buy two more.”
“I’m glad to hear it, Coach.”
He nodded his head and gave Scarlet a half wink before turning in my direction. “That’s not why I came over, though, Prin—Charli. I’m sorry about what happened to you yesterday. It was an awful way to come home. I just wanted you to know that even though we are grieving o
ver Marlene’s senseless death, we know this has been hard on you too.” He squeezed my shoulder in a gesture of support that was surprisingly comforting and not the least bit painful.
Stunned by his show of support, I just stared up at the man who had played a part in my breakup with Cade. He hadn’t been directly responsible, but I knew Coach Purcell had told my boyfriend he didn’t have time to be messing with me, he needed to focus on his football career.
That advice had gone a long way with Cade. So who was this new man in front of me?
“Once a member of the team, always a member of the team.”
“But I wasn’t part of the team,” I said. Having a girl on the football team would tear this town apart—though I hoped to witness it one day.
“Our cheerleaders get the crowd into the game. I’ve come to realize they’re an integral part of what makes us who we are. The Fighting Eagles of Hazel Rock wouldn’t be who they are without our cheerleaders.”
“Oh.” I felt like I’d just received a pitch to rejoin the cheer squad. Or maybe the football team. I wasn’t sure.
“If you need any help at the store, just ask. The team is here for you.” Coach squeezed my shoulder once more and returned to his seat a few booths away. None other than the mayor himself was seated in the same booth. Cade winked at me from his seat.
“Coach Purcell married the cheerleading coach,” Scarlet said. “I imagine she altered his opinions just a tad.”
With the coach’s blessing and the mayor’s support, everyone else in the diner seemed to lose interest in me. Chatter resumed, and I was forced to admit some things had changed in Hazel Rock.
Chapter Ten
Coach Purcell’s trip to our table broke the ice for the rest of the diners. During our lunch most of them stopped by to say welcome back and offer condolences for my loss. I kind of felt like it should be me offering the condolences. I didn’t know Marlene all that well, but I accepted them graciously—after Scarlet kicked me in the shin.
She kicked me again when I started asking the mail carrier, who sat down at the table next to ours, if she’d seen anything suspicious at The Barn the previous day. She hadn’t or I would have tolerated more bruises.
“That’s Mateo’s job,” Scarlet hissed.
“Okay. I’m sorry. I can’t help it, I just . . . I just need to know,” I whispered.
Scarlet looked like she understood but let the topic drop without another word about it. Then she got me up-to-date on who’d left town for college and never returned, and who’d settled down with a spouse and kids. I couldn’t see myself in that role anytime soon, so when she told me I was one of the few left unattached, I thought of Cade’s kiss.
God, please let him still be among the single.
My prayers were answered a few minutes later when Scarlet announced that my ex was the most eligible bachelor in town. My eyes strayed to him eating lunch with Coach and I blushed when he caught me staring. Luckily, I was rescued by the waitress.
She plopped down a burger in front of me that was big enough for two and said, “Time to rock the house, girl.”
My mouth watered. The diner’s half pounder, known as The Rocker, was made up of two thick, juicy patties guaranteed to add plaque to my arteries, a sesame seed bun toasted with butter, two slices of locally made goat cheese, lettuce, tomato, and topped off with string-fried onion, and of course a side of ranch dressing. It was the one thing in Hazel Rock I admitted to missing . . . and craving on numerous occasions.
While I savored every bite, Scarlet talked about her salon and her plans for the future and nibbled on a Cobb salad. It looked good but didn’t compare to the food in front of me. Content to listen, eat, and nod, I ignored the mayor and enjoyed myself for the first time since coming home. About halfway through the burger, however, I had to call it quits. I may have been able to squeeze into my high school cutoffs, but I was going to bust a seam if I ate one more bite.
I got the rest of my burger to go and Scarlet and I left the diner with a polite nod in Coach and Cade’s direction. I was glad they’d chosen to sit toward the kitchen and not the front door. Walking past Cade would have meant we’d have to talk, and I wasn’t quite ready to do that after our meeting of the lips.
Scarlet and I walked along the boardwalk, the sun beating down on us in between the roofs. Our steps clippitty-clopped on the wooden planks, my long stride offsetting her shorter, daintier progress.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
I sighed and squinted into the sun. “I tried to see if the sale could still move forward, but the buyer is no longer interested. The real estate company said homicide scenes don’t typically sell.”
“I suppose not. And Marlene was a pillar of the community.”
I nodded in agreement. The truth in that statement was beginning to hit home.
“I’m going to go by the office later this afternoon to see if I can talk to someone in person.”
“Have you thought about staying and making a go of it?”
I did an about-face and was shaking my head before she even finished the sentence. Staying in Hazel Rock would be a big mistake. My dad needed me about as much as I needed a pie in my face every year. If lunch had taught me anything, it was that my daddy still had friends in town who would help him get back on his feet when he was ready. Besides, I had a life in Denver, with students waiting for me to return as soon as I could. “No. but I thought I’d open up the store long enough to make enough money to buy a ticket home.”
“When were you planning on leaving?”
“Sometime next week. I priced an airline ticket and I think I can cover the cost with a few days of profit. It’ll give Dad a start in the right direction, and if nothing else, I can always take a bus.”
“I hate that this happened.” Scarlet’s voice cracked and she stopped so suddenly her arms and chest wobbled forward like a young filly standing for the first time. She was staring at The Book Barn Princess with the same open expression of pain she’d worn when she’d witnessed the removal of Marlene’s body from the store on a gurney. I followed her gaze.
“OMW,” she gasped. “I don’t think you’ll be making much money in the next week.”
The front door to The Barn had turned into a memorial in shades of yellow and black. Balloons in the shape of bumblebees swayed in the dusty breeze. Decorative pots of yellow mums lined each side of the entrance with plush stuffed bees stacked behind them. Pictures of Marlene covered the doors; if I opened them, the images would swish right off into a crumpled mess and blow down the street like tumbleweeds.
The town would never forgive me for damaging the photos they’d taped to the glass of Marlene being sworn in as mayor, or of what looked like Marlene receiving the Chamber of Commerce award for businesswoman of the year.
The display was overwhelmingly huge. Texans believed in making sure everything is bigger in Texas—even if it meant your worst nightmare. The balloons and stuffed animals were all new . . . and more abundant than the amount of toys I’d collected in my school’s Christmas donation box last year. I couldn’t just throw them away. Nor could I donate them to charity without looking callous. The plants I could at least bring to her gravesite or give to Yellow Jacket Realty or maybe a nursing home.
But the question remained: When could I do that without irritating everyone after they had only just started to warm up to me?
“Was that there when we left for lunch?” I asked.
“There was one balloon and one pot of yellow flowers when I crossed the street. I thought you put those out.”
I shook my head, wishing I’d been that thoughtful. But I hadn’t, and now the memorial was out of control. We watched as one of the big-haired blondes I’d seen leaving the beauty shop the day before parked her oversize SUV in front of the store. She removed a large floral cross with a stand out of the backseat, pushed the car door closed with her butt, which was barely covered by a hand-painted designer skirt, and walked up the steps to The Ba
rn where she planted the floral cross directly in front of the doors. It wobbled for a moment as she bowed her head in prayer.
“Interesting. I thought Reba Sue and Marlene hated each other,” Scarlet mumbled, more to herself than to me.
I felt like I should remain silent out of respect, but I couldn’t. Besides, Scarlet had opened that door first. I leaned over and whispered, “Why did they hate each other? And what’s the proper amount of time to leave a memorial in place?”
“Oh, just some silly argument about missing antique pieces from a house Reba Sue staged for Yellow Jacket Realty. She thought Marlene should pay for them and Marlene told Reba Sue she was the one who’d misplaced them, said they were never in the house to begin with.”
That got my attention and put Reba Sue at the top of my list of potential suspects. Scarlet, however, saw the stupid light bulb light up in my brain and decided to turn it off immediately.
“Reba Sue didn’t kill Marlene. She was getting a mani pedi when Marlene was killed.”
I jumped on the obvious. “She needed a manicure? Were her nails broken? Did it look like she’d been in a fight?”
“OMW, Charli. Reba gets her nails done every Friday morning like clockwork, whether they need it or not.”
When I started to ask again if her nails were damaged, Scarlet shushed me before I drew Reba Sue’s attention in our direction. “No. Her nails were not damaged. She could have gone two more weeks with the manicure she had. Besides, Mateo already cleared her.”
My shoulders drooped. A quick and easy answer to this whole situation was going to be harder to find than I thought. How could a murder in small-town Texas be difficult to solve? There were only so many possible suspects.
Scarlet then returned to the more important question I’d initially asked. “I would say you need to leave that memorial in place until after the funeral.”
“After the funeral?” I said too loudly. Reba Sue’s hand dropped in midwave as she frowned and got back in her vehicle, the black SUV spitting gravel in our direction as she left.
Her departure only encouraged the volume of my voice to rise. “I need to go home!” Desperate, I did the one thing my daddy had told me to never do—I begged. “Please, Scarlet, can I borrow two hundred dollars? I’m good for it, I swear I am. I’ve got to get back. I’ll wire you the money first thing on payday.”