“Maybe we can go again when Mr. Hart gives me another Saturday off. It seems I don’t get them but once every six weeks.” She walked out onto the porch with me.
“It’s a date.” I waved goodbye and hurried to my own house. A date. I have a date with Brandon Harvest. What am I going to wear?
****
At five-thirty I stood in front of my full-length mirror. It had taken all afternoon, but I’d finally settled on a light blue skirt with a darker blue top. As always, my first choice had been pink, but it was a fun color, and this date wasn’t suppose to be fun. I’d decided earlier that it would be a date to learn more about the people in Mitzi’s life. Not a date to pursue a man.
“I look drab.” I said to the reflection.
A glance into my jewelry case produced a large floral pin. Normally it wasn’t one I’d wear. For some reason, the pink flowers and green petals always clashed with the top I’d chosen. I pinned it into place and smiled.
The blue from the top brought out the color in my eyes, and the pink flowers in the pin gave me a sense of well being. Don’t ask me why pink makes me feel good, it just does. I strapped on a pair of white sandals and looked at the many purses Mitzi had left behind.
I should have put them in the giveaway bag, but knew they were all expensive and since they were every color of the rainbow, I could use them. A light blue one with green leaves embroidered on the front caught my eye. I dumped the contents of my own pocketbook onto the bed and rearranged it in the blue.
Pulling it onto my shoulder, I glanced at the clock once more. Fifteen minutes. I still had fifteen minutes. I walked to the bathroom and wiped off my sweaty palms. I’d forgotten how nervous investigating Mitzi’s murder made me. It’s not the murder and you know it. “Oh, shut up.” I told the bleached blonde in the mirror.
The doorbell rang. I stuck my tongue out at the reflection and hurried down the hallway. Brandon was early.
I pulled the door open with what I hoped was my most charming smile. It faded as my brain related to the rest of me that Brandon looked a lot like Detective Howard.
“Mrs. Parker.” He tipped his hat. “May I come in? I have a few questions for you.”
The driveway stood empty except for his patrol car. “I guess so.”
He stepped past me. “This shouldn’t take long.”
A sigh escaped my parted lips. “Please, sit down.”
“Naw, I can see you are on your way out. I’ve asked you to stay out of Mitzi’s case, but it has come to my attention that you are still nosing around. Is that correct?”
Pulling myself up to my five foot two inches, I answered. “Yes, I’ve asked a few questions.”
“I see.” He ran his hand over his buzz cut. “What makes you think Darlene Lowery might be our murderer?” He pulled out a small notebook.
If he wasn’t going to sit down, I was. I moved around him and sat on the couch. “I didn’t say Darlene murdered her. I said, Darlene was jealous of her, but I’m not sure that is enough to kill for.”
He jotted my words down in his book. “I see.” His gaze met mine. “Just so you know, people have killed for a lot less.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “So I’ve been told.”
He licked the tip of his pencil. It reminded me of something my grandfather did when I was a kid. His steely gaze locked on me once more. “Can you give me the names of the couple who argued with her and what they were quarrelling about?”
“Yes and no.” I waited. What was it about this man that set me on edge and made me act like a delinquent teenager?
He sighed. “Which is it?”
It took all I could muster to push my rebellious nature to the side and answer. “I only know their first names.”
He nodded.
“Karen and Jack. Brandon will know their full names. They’re in his creative writing class.” I answered.
He made more notes on the small pad. “What was the argument about?”
I heard Brandon’s pickup pull into the driveway. At least, I hoped it was him. “That is a question for them. Sadie didn’t say, and I didn’t think to ask.”
His lips twitched as he wrote down this new piece of evidence. “You know, a good detective asks all the questions.”
“Why, Detective Howard, that’s the first time you’ve indicated you thought I was good.” I batted my lashes and attempted to look innocent. I swear, I think I heard the man growl at me.
“What’s going on?” Brandon asked, opening the screen and coming on into the room. He looked nice in blue jeans and what looked like a freshly pressed caramel colored shirt.
Detective Howard shook his head. “Mr. Harvest, I need the names of two of your students.” He ordered.
Brandon arched an eyebrow. “Is that so? Which two?” From his tone, I could see the good detective rubbed Brandon the wrong way, too.
If the officer noticed, he gave no indication of it as he consulted his notes. “Karen and Jack.” He looked expectantly at Brandon.
“Karen Moore and Jack Carr. They are on that class list I gave you.” He paused and then asked. “Are they in some sort of trouble?”
Detective Howard shut his notebook and stuffed it back in his shirt pocket. “We got a tip today and need to ask a few questions of them, that’s all. Thank you both for your cooperation.”
He shoved the pencil behind the notebook, and then raised one eyebrow at me. “Claire, leave the detective work to us.” Detective Howard put his hat back on and left the room. And, the door slammed behind him before I could remind him that if it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t know who to question.
Brandon turned to face me. “Now, what was that about?”
TITLE
Lethal Lasagna
Chapter 23
I stood, puzzled as to why he appeared angry with me. “I met Ms. Cooper today at the flea market and put a bug in her ear about Darlene, Karen, and Jack.” I moved to the door, ready to leave.
He stood his ground. “So? What does that have to do with him stopping by here?”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you the best part. He and Ms. Cooper are dating. I knew if I told her, she’d tell him, and he’d look into it.” I felt pretty proud of myself. “I was right, too.”
His voice came out unusually low. “And when were you going to tell me about this? Does he plan to look into my background, too?”
What was he talking about? “Why would he investigate you?”
“Why not? Have you told him we’re working on this together? Or is he to assume you are keeping me around to make sure I didn’t do sweet Mitzi in?” He crossed his arms over his chest and waited.
I must be dense because none of this made sense to me. “I can’t remember if I told him or not. You were standing here, why didn’t you mention it?”
“You really don’t understand, do you?” He uncrossed his arms and frowned.
I shook my head no.
“Then I guess it really doesn’t matter then. Come on we’re going to be late.” He took my elbow in his rough hand and propelled me out of the house and into his truck. He closed the door a little harder than I thought necessary.
On the way to the church, I asked, “Did you get the rocker finished?”
“Almost. I’ll work on it some more tomorrow and then deliver it sometime in the afternoon.” He focused his gaze on the road. His voice had lost its anger, but he still seemed a little put out.
I fiddled with the strap of my pocketbook. Apologizing wasn’t something I was used to doing. Especially when I really didn’t understand what I was apologizing for. But, I bit my lip hard and then pressed forward. “Brandon, I’m sorry. I should have mentioned that you were helping me with Mitzi’s case. I’ll call him and let him know first thing in the morning.”
He pulled into the church parking lot. “If that’s what you want to do, fine.” Brandon got out of the truck and came around my side to open the door.
We walked to the building in silence. Once more, he o
pened a door for me and guided us into the meeting room. It was a large room with lots of long tables and benches. The scent of freshly baked cookies greeted us.
Brandon moved off to visit with several other men while Lori nabbed me. “I was hoping you’d come tonight. I’d like to introduce you to some of the other single ladies in our group. This is Mary, Cheryl, and Lilly. Ladies, Claire.”
“Nice to meet you all.” I glanced over my shoulder to where Brandon stood talking. His gaze met mine for a brief moment, and then he glanced away.
Cheryl smiled. “I see you arrived with Brandon. He’s nice.”
“Yes, he is.”
It wasn’t long before the three women were drilling me. Where had we met? Were we dating? If not, why? I answered all their questions and asked a few of my own. It was amazing how quickly the four of us got along.
“The pizza’s here.” One of the men announced.
I stepped up to help the women. We placed the boxes in a row down one table. Set up drinks on another and games on several more tables. We served ourselves, and the game playing began.
“Come play Bridge with us,” Mary said, pulling me toward two men who waited with plates piled high with pizza. Each had found a can of soda to wash down the carbs.
I grabbed my plate and let her pull me along. “Tim, David, this is Claire Parker.”
A smile touched Tim’s lips. “Here comes trouble.”
He had no idea.
Something about him seemed familiar. I tried to place where we’d met before but soon forgot all about it as the game started. Mary sat across from me and was my partner; David and Tim sat across from each other.
We laughed and played for about an hour. I learned Tim was a construction worker and David an RN. Both men were nice and asked about my days as a postal worker. Even as I got to know them, I was very aware of Brandon and his playmates. One woman, I hadn’t met yet, hung onto his arm and laughed loudly whenever possible. The other woman seemed quiet and only had eyes for the man who sat beside her.
“That’s Susan Butters. She’s the biggest flirt here, and her favorite man is Brandon.” Mary whispered in my ear when we both went back for additional slices of pizza.
A loud round of laughter came from her table. “I can see that.” I muttered.
We turned to look at the table. Mary leaned close once more. “That really wasn’t a kind thing I just said. Please forget it. Susan isn’t really bad. She’s just lonely and thinks that if she hurries and remarries she won’t be any more.”
“What happened to her husband?” I asked as we headed back to the table.
Mary stopped short. “He died in a car crash a couple of years ago. He liked the races and had just started racing himself when the accident happened.”
“That’s too bad.”
Now was as good a time as any to mention Mitzi. “Did you know Mitzi?” I asked as we sat down at the table once more.
The other woman smiled. Her clear gray eyes looked across at Tim. “Yes, we did. She was very sweet, and we miss her.”
Mitzi and Mary would have been good friends, I realized. Mary had the same soft voice and sweet disposition as Mitzi. Why hadn’t I seen it before?
“I know. I miss her very much, too.”
Tim got up. “I need a fresh drink.” He picked up his empty can and left the table.
Mary and David exchanged knowing looks.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset him.” I watched the tall thin man drop his can into the wastebasket and go out the door.
Mary laid a hand over mine. “It’s okay. He and Mitzi were dating. Tim was pretty serious, but I think Mitzi just enjoyed his friendship.”
I hadn’t put this Tim with the one that Mitzi had been dating. She’d spoken of him, and I knew she’d felt the same way he had; only she’d been too afraid to tell him. Should I tell him how she’d felt? Or leave it be?
In my minds eye, I remembered seeing Tim’s face among the mourners at Mitzi’s funeral. We’d never met, but I’d seen him there. Tears had run down his face freely and unashamedly. I’d thought at the time that he must have loved her very much and wondered who he was.
David leaned forward. “He’s coming back. Can we drop the subject?”
“Sure,” I agreed, sad that I’d caused Tim pain.
Tim smiled as he approached our table. “Sorry about that. The older I get the more I have to go.” As if he realized what he’d just said in front of ladies he turned three shades of red.
Everyone at the table burst out in laughter.
****
For the second time that day, I found myself driven home by someone besides the person I’d gone with. “Thanks, Mary for the ride home.”
“No problem. I’m sorry Tim spilled grape juice on that lovely skirt. I hope you can get it out.”
I unfastened my seatbelt. “I hope so, too. Thanks again.”
She waved as she drove off.
Sprocket ran to the fence for a quick pat on the head. “Sorry ole boy, no time to talk. I have to get inside to see if I can get this stain out of my skirt. Tomorrow we’ll go for a nice long walk, I promise.”
Maybe I’d take him to the park, I thought as I opened the back door and shut it behind me. The stickiness of the fruit drink slid down my legs as I shimmied out of the juice-covered skirt.
I held it up to the light and realized it was ruined, just like my evening. With tears in my eyes, I dropped the skirt into a basket that sat in front of the washer. Brandon hadn’t even noticed when I’d left.
Why should he have?
Susan had held his attention all evening, not me.
Feeling sorry for myself, I traveled down the hallway in the dark. When I opened my bedroom door, a horrible odor greeted me. I reached up for the light switch but it didn’t light the room as I’d expected. Thinking the bulb had burned out, I stepped forward to find my bedside lamp.
Something wet rolled under my feet. The sandals slipped in what felt like goo. I tried to catch myself but felt the air whoosh out as I hit the floor with a crash. Excruciating pain traveled up the fingers of my right hand and into my wrist. It snapped. My head hit something hard and then all went black.
****
The last thing a woman wants to see when she wakes up with a bad headache and sharp pain is the butt of a chicken. I pushed the bloody mass away from me.
From the streetlamp shinning through the window, I saw what had caused me to fall. The body of a chicken, a wet substance I figured was chicken blood, and guts littered the floor of my room.
Taking a few moments to test out my feet, I stood. My hand felt two sizes too big for my wrist. I moved to the bedside lamp, trying to avoid the mess in the floor. It refused to come on also.
I eased my way back to the hall. The light switch here felt cool. Light illuminated the passage and me. My blue top and underwear were covered in blood and gook. I gagged.
I rushed to the guest bathroom and threw up my pizza. My head ached, my hand was on fire, and everything stank. I kicked off my sandals and retrieved the ruined skirt from the washer.
How long had I been out? I looked the glowing numbers on the microwave. Twenty minutes. Pulling the bottle of aspirin from the cabinet, I decided to go see if Brandon was home yet.
I stepped through the screen door and onto the porch. It banged behind me. Brandon stuck his head out from around the trees and shrubberies. “What in the world happened to you?”
He was around the greenery before I could answer. Tears filled my eyes and the next thing I knew I was sobbing against his shirt.
Brandon opened the screen door and led me inside. “Here, sit down.” He pulled a clean handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped my face.
“Thanks.” I sniffled.
He gently picked up my right hand. “That looks broken. What happened?”
I pulled my hand back and cradled it against my body. “I fell over something in the bedroom.”
“Where did all this blood com
e from?”
My head hurt. I reached up but the spot where it hurt the worst was clean of the sticky mess. “I’m not sure. I guess from the bedroom.”
He got up and walked back to the bedroom. Minutes went by and I began to get worried. It killed my head but I called out. “Brandon, what are you doing?”
“Getting a flashlight to see what you tripped on.”
Great. That’s just what I needed, my future boyfriend to see I tripped on a chicken butt. I groaned and put my head into my left hand.
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