I pointed in the direction he’d just come from. “Same drawer.” Now what was he up to? Did the man plan on showing me why people want to be published? Surely not. I wiped off the kitchen table and dried it.
He returned. “Come sit with me.” Brandon sat down at the table.
“What are you up to?” I sat down and watched him draw a circle in the center of a page. “Have you ever done story webbing?” He asked.
“No.”
“OK. Well for our purposes this is how we are going to do this.” In the circle he wrote Mitzi’s name. Then he drew three lines out from that and placed a big circle at the end of each line. “You have been trying to find her killer at the church.” He wrote church at the top of the first circle.
“Oh I see. I’ve also been looking for clues at the Mad Hatter’s Rose Hat meetings.” I watched as he wrote Mad Hatters over the next circle.
“And my writing class.” He wrote Creative Writing class above the last circle. “Okay. Now is there anyone you suspect at the church?” He asked.
I couldn’t think of anyone. “Not yet.”
A pleased smile touched his lips and eyes. “Good.”
Good thing I didn’t say Margery Williams, I told myself.
“What about at the Mad Hatters?” He sat with his pencil poised above the circle.
“Well, there was one person who got upset when I asked about Mitzi, and a couple of other women said they didn’t get along.” I ran my tongue over my lips.
He drew a line out from the circle. “What’s her name?”
“Darlene Lowery.” I thought about her. Could she really be the killer? What was her motive? Dislike because Mitzi was the youngest?
He wrote her name on the line and then drew a smaller one under it. “What is her motive?”
I felt my face fill with heat. He’s going to think I’m insane if I say that. “According to the other ladies, Darlene was jealous of Mitzi.” When I said it like that it didn’t sound so bad. I watched as he wrote “jealousy” down.
“Now for my class.” He drew three lines out from the circle and listed Margaret, Debbie, and Fred’s names, on the lines. He studied the paper.
“That gives us four suspects.” I said. “Go to the Mad Hatters and draw two more lines.”
He did as I asked. “Whose names go on these?”
“I don’t know.”
At his puzzled look, I continued.
“Sadie said Mitzi upset a young couple not to long ago. Maybe she made them mad enough to kill her.”
He leaned forward. “Think, Claire. Did she say their names?”
I tried to remember exactly what Sadie had said, but with him staring into my eyes, all rational thought left. Put some space between you, I silently ordered myself. I pushed out of my chair and moved to the coffee pot. As I prepared the coffee, I let my mind drift back to what Sadie had said.
Then it hit me. I spun around and gasped at Brandon.
“What?” he asked excitedly.
My hands were shaking with excitement. “She said they are in your writing class!” The smell of fresh coffee didn’t soothe the excitement bubbling inside my stomach.
“They were a couple?” He asked.
I shook my head yes.
“Well, there is a couple in my class. Young though. What would they be doing with the Mad Hatters?” He frowned.
“Oh, well they weren’t with the Mad Hatters. They were at the motorcycle rally. But, Sadie said Mitzi was surprised when they showed up at your class.”
“Karen and Jack could be a part of a motorcycle group. They seem pretty wild, but I don’t remember any friction between them and Mitzi during class.” He drew two lines off the circle labeled Writers Group and wrote Karen and Jack’s name on the lines.
I poured us each a cup of coffee and walked back to the table. “They write Science Fiction.” I remembered she had long black hair and wore a leather skirt both nights I’d noticed her. Jack had been all muscles and wore torn jeans and a tee shirt. I could picture both of them on a motorcycle.
“Yes they do. Jack is pretty good at it. I keep telling Karen she should explore other genres. Her heart just doesn’t seem to be in the sci-fi stuff.” Brandon put two teaspoons of sugar into his cup and poured a little creamer into the steaming brew.
Pure sugar. I’d give anything to be able to eat and drink like that. Instead I sipped on my own bitter drink and thought about the people who might have killed Mitzi.
Darlene was jealous but was she jealous enough to kill? I planned on visiting with her again. Maybe Sadie had just misjudged her. Karen and Jack were angry with Mitzi and had had words but could that have led to murder? That information had come from Sadie, too. Was it possible Sadie may have been looking for someone else to blame?
“Brandon, would you write Sadie on a line beside the Mad Hatters?”
He did. “Why do we have her there?”
“She is the one who insinuated that Darlene and Mitzi had poor relations and she’s the one who told me about the argument between Karen, Jack, and Mitzi. I’m wondering if she’s trying to push the blame off on someone else.”
“That’s possible. Make everyone else look guilty so they aren’t looking at you.” His gaze moved to the large kitchen window. “Who do you know who drives classic silver Camero?”
“No one.” I looked out the window and sure enough a silver car with dark tinted windows was pulling into my driveway.
TITLE
Lethal Lasagna
Chapter 19
I watched as my daughter Megan crawled out of the car. Her husband, Greg, stepped from the driver’s side. “It’s the kids. They must have gotten a new car.” I smiled at Brandon and then wondered what Megan was going to think about him staying with me.
Reminding myself that I was the parent, and they were the children, I smiled sweetly and said. “Let’s go get a closer look.”
“I’m right behind you.” Brandon said, as he pushed his chair back and gulped the last of his coffee down.
The evening was cooling off; the scent of honeysuckle tickled my nose as I made my way toward the new car and my children. “What have you got here?” I asked.
“My dream car, a classic 1968.” Greg grinned. He opened his door wide. “Hop in.”
I leaned forward and stared inside. A new car scented air freshener hung from the rearview mirror. Not a speck of dust showed on the shiny dash and steering wheel. “Very nice.” I stood and found Megan eyeing Brandon like he’d grown horns and carried a pitchfork.
“How about we go for a ride?” Greg had a rag in his hand and wiped at non-existent dirt on the hood. He seemed unaware of Megan’s disapproving gaze.
“Brandon, I’d like for you to meet my daughter, Megan, and her husband, Greg.”
Greg moved around the car and shook Brandon’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Brandon. How about a drive around the block?” He opened the back door to the car.
“Greg, can’t that wait a minute?” Megan studied Brandon with blue eyes so much like mine that I smiled. “Nice to meet you, Mr…?”
Brandon shook her hand. “Just call me, Brandon.”
Poor Greg looked so bewildered I took pity on him. “I think a drive is a great idea.” I slipped by him and slid inside the car.
A smile lit up my son-in-law’s face. “Great.” He opened the front seat passenger door for Megan; as soon as she was inside he hurried around the car.
Brandon slipped in the back seat with me. A smile touched his lips, and he winked. Together we put our seatbelts on. Our hands touched briefly. A warm sensation traveled up my arm, and I returned his smile.
“Just listen to that motor purr.” Greg smiled in the rearview mirror. “Isn’t she great?”
Megan sighed. “Sorry about this, guys. He has been like this all afternoon.”
“It sounds smooth.” Brandon agreed. He reached across the car and took one of my hands in his.
“She’s wonderful.” I agreed. “What are y
ou two doing tonight?” I asked as I tried to ignore the warm fingers clasped in mine and the thumb that was gently brushing the back of my hand.
Megan looked over her shoulder at me and smiled. “You haven’t listened to your messages today, have you?”
“I’m afraid not.” I confessed.
Greg pulled back into the driveway. “Well, we’d thought about spending the evening with you,” he looked into the rear view mirror at them, “but, if you are busy, we’ll come another time.”
“Not at all. Come on inside. I have some things I need to tell you.” I opened the car door and pulled my hand from Brandon’s. I missed the warmth and roughness of his palm immediately.
“Look at this motor.” Greg said to Brandon. The two men had their heads under the hood within moments.
Megan met me at the front of the car, and we walked to the back door together. She looked over her shoulder and whispered, “Who is Brandon?”
I murmured back. “My creative writing teacher.” He was more than that, but I didn’t want to whisper about it right here and right now. I’d tell Megan later.
We went into the kitchen. Megan sat down at the table while I pulled a Sara Lee cherry pie from the freezer. I turned on the oven to pre-heat and grabbed a metal pie plate from the lower cabinet.
Greg and Brandon entered the kitchen.
“What’s this?” Megan asked. She held the notepad up that Brandon had been writing on earlier for everyone to see.
Before either of us could answer, Greg said. “It looks like a story web. Are you two working on a book together?”
Brandon took the notebook. “Not exactly.”
“We were brainstorming.” I said proud of myself for not lying but managing to avoid the truth at the same time.
Megan turned her best schoolteacher gaze on me. “What exactly were you brainstorming?”
So much for half the truth.
“If you must know,” I put the pan in the oven and shut the door. “We were working on Mitzi’s murder.” I read the instructions on the box and then turned the timer.
The room had grown very quiet. I turned to find my daughter staring at me. Her look had changed from determination to concern. “Mom, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”
Stubborn should be my middle name. “Good idea or not, I’m doing it.” I folded my arms and leaned against the hot stove. Then, I quickly moved to rest my hip against the counter.
A smile tugged at Brandon’s lips. The man dared to laugh at me! How was it, he knew what I’d done? Megan and Greg seemed oblivious to the fact that I’d just toasted my own buns. I rubbed the warm spot.
Megan sighed. “Okay, what have you found out so far?”
I turned to get two more cups down from the top cabinet. “Not much, really. A woman from the Rose Hat Club was jealous of Mitzi. But I don’t know if that’s enough to murder someone. Two people had words with her, again I don’t think that’s enough to kill and three members of Brandon’s class are cozy mystery writers.”
When I turned back around Megan and Greg were looking at me like I had lipstick on my teeth or something. Their heads swung between Brandon and me.
Finally Greg asked. “What does three cozy mystery writers have to do with this?”
Brandon laughed. “Here, let me have a shot at it, Claire. We found a short story in Mitzi’s apartment. She didn’t write it. I know this because the story was a cozy mystery. Mitzi wrote young adult stories.”
“Oh, well, that cleared it up nicely.” Megan’s voice dripped with sarcasm. She turned to Greg. “Are you getting this?”
I handed them both a cup of coffee. Greg pushed his away before answering. Drat! I’d forgotten he wasn’t a coffee drinker. “Greg what can I get you to drink?”
“Ice tea?”
I nodded and he turned to answer his wife. “They think maybe one of the cozy mystery students might have wanted Mitzi dead. But, if so, why?”
“The final for my class is a short story. The person with the highest score gets his or her work published in the campus magazine.” Brandon laid the writing pad down and leaned back in his seat.
Megan’s head was bent over the notebook again. “Okay, that accounts for six of these names. Who did you leave out?”
I took Greg’s coffee to the counter and pulled down a glass. “That would be Sadie; she’s the one that told me about the other three people.” After filling the glass with ice and tea, I carried it to Greg. “I’m wondering if she’s trying to cover something up by accusing them.”
“Thanks.” He smiled and gulped the cold drink.
How could I have forgotten he wasn’t a coffee drinker? “You’re welcome.”
“So, really you don’t have any more than the police do. Do you?” Megan asked.
“Nope.”
A smile touched her lips and eyes. “Good. How about a game of Monopoly?”
Brandon looked at me and quirked an eyebrow. I knew he was wondering if Megan always switched gears in mid-sentence. I nodded, and he sighed.
“Sure. I’ll get the game.” I kept the board games in a closet at the end of the hallway. As I pulled it off the top shelf, I wondered if Mitzi’s death could have had anything to do with money.
I leaned against the wall. Who would have inherited Mitzi’s money? Her son, Jake. He wasn’t anywhere near here when Mitzi had died. Plus, the boy loved his mother very much. I couldn’t see him killing her.
Maybe money didn’t have anything to do with it. What other reasons did a person have to kill? Jealousy? That would take me back to Darlene. Greed? That could lead to one of the three students.
Laughter came from the kitchen. I shook my head and decided to let the subject of Mitzi and murder drop for the time being. My family was waiting to play games.
As I carried the game back to the kitchen, I was surprised to hear Megan say. “I’m glad you’re staying here. I worry about her snooping around in Mitzi’s death.”
I stopped short of the entryway and listened. “It’s my pleasure. I enjoy spending time with your mother.” Brandon said.
“I’m glad. Mom’s been alone for too long.”
To hear Megan, you’d think I was some lonely heart looking for companionship. It was time to nip this conversation in the bud. I continued through the door. “Here it is. I get to be the dog.”
Greg yelped. “I want the car.”
Megan laughed. “Big surprise there.”
I slid the game onto the table. Megan pulled off the lid and started distributing money. “I guess this makes me the banker.”
Brandon laughed. “I suppose so, but only if I get to use the ship as my game piece.” He pulled the box to himself. “Hey, where’s my ship?”
“Sorry ole fella. I lost it a long time ago.” Megan handed him the top hat. “Here, this is more your style anyway.”
I laughed at the expression on Brandon’s face. He looked like a little boy who’d just had all the red licked off his sucker.
****
The evening with the kids and Brandon quickly drew to an end. Brandon and Greg proceeded outside while Megan and I cleared away the game and dirty dessert plates.
“You know, Mom, I think your professor is interested in more than just your storytelling abilities.” She set the coffee mugs beside me on the counter, a sweet smile pasted in place as if she’d made the statement in innocence.
Talking to one’s child about a man, even if she was thirty years old, seemed odd to me. In all honesty, I was downright uncomfortable with the subject. “We’re just friends, Megan.”
She kissed me on the cheek and chuckled as she walked away. “Maybe you should tell him that.” The door slammed behind her as she made a speedy exit.
Maybe I should. Especially since he’d taken to holding my hand every so often.
“What are you thinking about? And please don’t tell me about Mitzi and her murderer.” Brandon put the lid on the game and smiled at me.
“You and I need to have a
talk.” Might as well get this over with as soon as possible. Maybe it would be like pulling a tooth; if I jerked fast it wouldn’t hurt as much.
“Sure. What’s up?”
What ’ s up? What are we? Teenagers? I took a deep breath and leaned against the counter. “I’m not ready for the whole boyfriend, girlfriend relationship thing.”
His face never changed. He walked over to me and placed the Monopoly game on the counter. “Is that all?”
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