“Lacy,” Riley said. Her cool tone conveyed the fact that she didn’t like Robert and Lacy having anything to do with each other, even polite, impersonal chatter.
“Riley,” Lacy said, nodding. She narrowed her eyes on her sister, willing her to take two steps away from Jason. Riley’s eyes narrowed, too, and then she turned to Jason with a smile, one that sent chills down Lacy’s spine because she knew what was coming.
“I was so excited when Lacy called to tell us there had been a change of plans and you were coming instead,” Riley said.
Jason, of course, took the bait like a fish longing for a plastic worm. “I was coming instead?” he repeated.
“Yes, and I have to tell you that I’m relieved. I mean, I’m sure I’ll eventually meet Grandma’s pastor, but I don’t really want to spend the weekend with a reverend, you know?” Riley inserted her poisonous dart and turned to Lacy with a triumphant smile.
“I was your second choice?” Jason said, giving Lacy a look that could have peeled wallpaper with the force of its acidity.
“You had to choose between two men?” Robert said, and now he was frowning at her as if realizing that maybe she hadn’t been curled in the fetal position crying since their breakup.
There’s only one thing that could make this moment worse, Lacy thought. Then as if the universe had heard her and decided to agree, Aunt Enid entered the room, the dreaded monkey perched jauntily on her shoulder.
Chapter 7
“Why is everyone standing in the foyer?” Aunt Enid asked.
Despite his still obvious anger, Jason took a step closer to Lacy, frowning at the monkey. But after a quick inspection of Lacy’s turban, the monkey ignored her, focusing his gaze instead on Riley. Was it Lacy’s imagination, or was the monkey staring at her sister with blatant adoration? And if someone was jealous of her sister because of monkey love, did that mean that person was insane?
“We were just getting ready to venture into the other room, dear,” Rita said.
“Don’t lie, you scheming harpy,” Bob yelled.
“Shut your port, Bob,” Rita yelled. They disappeared into the other room behind Aunt Enid and the monkey.
“Ready to meet the others?” Robert said. His wry tone and easy smile had returned. “You’re going to love this,” he said to Lacy. “There will be so much sarcasm swimming through your brain that your head might explode.” He held out his arm, inviting her to latch on. She turned to Jason, but saw that not only did he not meet her gaze, but Riley had already attached herself to his arm and was practically dragging him toward the other room.
The first thing Lacy noticed when they walked into the room was the person sitting on the couch. He had the mature features and beard stubble of a man, but the posture and dress of a teenager. He wore a matching track suit in an unfortunate shade of green that merely served to highlight his overweight, pear-shaped physique. He held some sort of game system in his hands, his thumbs furiously working the controls. That seemed to be the only part of him that was moving, however. Lacy wasn’t sure why he was slumped so far into the sofa until she saw him reach for a drink from the stand beside the couch. He didn’t reach with his hand—no way was that puppy leaving the controller. Instead he reached with his mouth, contorting his lips without taking his eyes off the game so that his lips looked like they were having a seizure as they searched blindly for the straw. It was so painful to watch that Lacy was tempted to shake free of Robert and hand Lumpy his Big Gulp. At last his lips connected, and he took a long draw from the straw.
Robert followed the direction of her gaze. “That’s my cousin, Gregor. Not Greg. Gregor.”
She didn’t realize Jason was eavesdropping until he spoke. “Is he in college?”
“He’s thirty,” Robert said. “He lives in his parents’ basement and occasionally works fast food jobs, as long as they allow him to schedule between gaming tournaments.”
Jason stared at the man, horrified, and Lacy resisted the urge to laugh. To someone like Jason who had begun preparing for his career immediately out of high school and owned his own house before he was twenty two, seeing someone like Gregor must have been like viewing a rare creature in a zoo.
“Here come Gregor’s parents,” Robert whispered. “Bet you ten bucks you can’t understand a word my aunt says.” He beamed at his aunt as she approached. “Aunt Sue, this is Lacy Steele and her friend, Jason Cantor. Lacy and Riley are sisters.”
Lacy saw the woman’s lips moving, but it was as if no sound came out. There was an almost imperceptible murmuring noise, but it was so low it could have been the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. Aunt Sue’s lips stopped moving, and she seemed to be waiting expectantly for Lacy to reply.
“Um, yes,” Lacy said. Aunt Sue nodded and backed away.
“And Uncle Chuck,” Robert said.
For a split second, Lacy thought she was actually looking at Chuck Norris. Then she noticed the black roots on the man’s mustache and realized he was an impersonator. Or he was crazy enough to believe he was Chuck Norris. It was hard to tell, and talking to the man did nothing to clear up the mystery because he referred to himself as Walker, Texas Ranger no less than three times during their conversation. Finally, he walked away and Robert spoke.
“Yes, that just happened,” he said. “Too bad you didn’t get to meet their daughter. She’s a pageant mom. It only adds to the enjoyment to watch my two-year-old second cousin dress up like a hooker and ‘shake her booty,’ her mother’s words, not mine. Unfortunately for us, this weekend conflicts with the Little Miss Underage pageant in New Jersey, but she’s available to be our flower girl in the wedding. Yay!” He pumped his fist in the air, and Lacy laughed. Riley might not get sarcasm, but Robert certainly did.
“Dinner is served, Madam,” the maid announced. She glanced at Lacy who resisted the urge to curtsy again. The woman made her nervous for some reason. Maybe it was the formal black uniform and starched white apron. This wasn’t Downton Abbey. Who made their household staff dress like that anymore? For that matter, who had household staff?
The family began to shift toward the dining room, but Aunt Enid put up her hand, halting their progress. “We can’t eat until Emeril Lagasse has eaten or he’ll beg at the table, and that’s just unhealthy for him.” She picked up a cup of fruit from the table near where she was standing. “Riley, would you like to do the honors?”
“Of course, Aunt Enid,” Riley answered, reaching for the cup. The monkey, Emeril Lagasse, eagerly ran over and climbed on Riley’s shoulder, reaching into the cup as she held it aloft. When some juice from the fruit ran down his chin and dribbled on Riley’s most-likely-Prada shirt, Lacy tried not to feel any sort of satisfaction. She didn’t succeed, but she tried, especially because Riley was using her fake smile, the one Lacy knew meant she secretly hated the monkey because Riley didn’t even like dogs. There was no way she was going to enjoy a monkey sitting on her shoulder, staining her five hundred dollar blouse.
Lacy glanced at Jason to see if he was secretly as amused by the scene as she was, but he returned her look with a glare. She wrinkled her nose at him and he broke his glare in order to roll his eyes and look away.
At last Emeril Lagasse was done with his meal, and the family was allowed to proceed into the dining room. Aunt Sue sidled up to Lacy and moved her lips a few times.
“You said it,” Lacy said when the lips stopped moving. Sue nodded, and Lacy breathed a sigh of relief that she had given the correct response to whatever the woman mumbled.
The dining room was a piece of artwork Lacy would like to revisit. She hadn’t gotten as far as having a meal during her last visit, so this was her first glimpse of the dark wood paneling and Tiffany-style chandeliers. Or maybe they were actually Tiffany chandeliers. In a house this grand, nothing would surprise her, though the seating arrangement did. Jason was beside her. Her memory of formal etiquette was spotty, but she was under the impression that men and women who were together never sat beside each o
ther.
“I can see what you’re thinking, Lacy,” Aunt Enid said, which was a scary thought in and of itself. “Married partners sit opposing each other; engaged couples sit beside each other.”
“Lacy and Jason aren’t engaged, Aunt Enid,” Riley said. “They’re not even dating.” Jason and Lacy glanced at each other, wondering who her source was.
“My mother,” Lacy mouthed.
Smiling, he reached over and rested his hand on her knee. Whether it was to confuse Riley or because he had a thing about touching her while he was eating, Lacy didn’t know. And she didn’t care. She had missed him in the brief time they had been at the house. The morning had been intimate and fun, and then they arrived and he was mad at her. This time she had felt his anger all the way to her toes, so she covered his hand with hers and gave it a squeeze. He didn’t take it back as the first course was served, eating with his right hand, and Lacy didn’t remove hers, eating awkwardly with her left hand.
“They look cozy to me,” Aunt Enid observed, and Lacy wondered over the hint of approval in her tone.
Uncle Chuck—Lacy still had no idea if that was his real name—began a lively discourse on Kung Fu movies of the seventies. The one-man conversation lasted through dinner, and then it was time for dessert. Lacy sat up in anticipation because if there was one thing she was looking forward to, it was sugar. But to her dismay the plate of crackers and spray cheese was passed instead.
“Where’s dessert?” This came from Gregor who had put down the game console long enough to come to the table and eat, but was clearly longing for a fix if the yearning looks he was giving the other room were any indication.
“There is no dessert,” Aunt Enid said. “I’ve given up sugar. There’s not a trace of it left on the property.”
Lacy’s jaw dropped and she turned wide eyed to Jason. No sugar? Was this some sort of sick joke?
Gregor pushed away from the table and stood.
“Where are you going, young man?” Aunt Enid asked.
“I’m going to look in the kitchen. There has to be a bottle of chocolate syrup or something left in the fridge.”
Lacy started to push her chair back, too, but Jason held her back. “What are you doing?” he whispered.
“I’m going to help him search,” she said.
“Don’t sink to his level,” he whispered.
“But,” she started, but he interrupted.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, giving her one of his patented soul-touching looks that made her stomach flip in response.
“Yes,” she said.
“Then stay in your seat. The night is young.” He gave her knee a pat and passed the plate of spray cheese.
After supper the maid, who, Lacy learned, was named Hildy, led her to her room. Logically Lacy knew that it had only been a few hours since she last had sugar, but her body was already experiencing the symptoms of withdrawal. Her hands shook as she surveyed the space.
Her room was on the small side with an old-fashioned looking standard-sized bed, meaning it was really only slightly larger than a modern day single. There was a closet where she saw Hildy had already unpacked and hung her clothes. Another door was on the opposing wall; Lacy guessed it was the bathroom. She opened it just as Jason opened the door on the other end.
“A Jack-and-Jill bathroom,” he said. “How very convenient.”
“You know this particular feature is called a Jack-and-Jill bathroom, and yet you expect me to believe you’re not a woman,” she said.
He stepped into the room and lifted her onto the counter. “Close your eyes.” She complied, resting her arms on his shoulders in case he was of a mind to kiss her, which she thoroughly hoped he was. She tried to tamp down her disappointment when he spoke instead. “At the hospital the other night when you snarled at me like a feral dog, I sort of came to the conclusion that food is important to you, that it helps you cope.”
“Mmm, hmm,” she murmured.
“And I figured that this weekend was going to be sort of stress-inducing and you might need some backup, so I brought these.” He shoved a package into her lap and she looked down. It was dark chocolate, the good kind from Belgium.
“Jason,” she dropped her hands from his shoulders and clutched the package to her chest. “I think this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” She set the package aside so she could throw her arms around his neck. “I love you!”
The words hung suspended between them, leaden and full of unintended meaning.
“I was being…” she started.
“Flippant,” he supplied.
“Yes, only that never works out so well with you, which is why I invited Tosh first.” She removed her arms and pulled back to look at him. “I thought there was going to be a lot of drama this weekend, and I didn’t want to add our own special brand to the mix. But I was wrong because so far I’ve had a blast. If I had to be trapped with the Addams family, I’m glad you’re the one to share the experience.”
“That’s the only reason I was your second choice?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist.
“Not exactly. You know I’ve been sort of sad the last few months since I moved back home.”
He nodded.
“I thought this weekend was going to be like that, times ten, and I didn’t want you to bear witness to my pathetic state. But it hasn’t been like that. Instead of seeing everything I lost, and despite the fact that we’re acting out a page from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, I’m seeing everything I’ve gained. I can finally say I’m glad I’m not the one the monkey chose.”
“If I had a nickel for every time a woman said those words to me,” he said. “And, for the record, I am incredibly glad the monkey was too stupid to know what he was letting go. Furthermore, I’m having an absurdly good time with you, too. This proves my theory that away from work, family, the pastor, and murderers, we work amazingly well together. Speaking of the monkey, since he’s not here, can we take that off?” He glanced at her turban. “It’s disconcerting to feel like the woman you’re about to kiss has the Michelin Man perched over her face.”
“Sure,” Lacy said, already unwinding the uncomfortable scarf. She tossed it aside and closed her eyes when Jason ran his fingers through her hair.
“I love your hair, Red. Makes me sad you have to keep it covered up.”
She clutched his shirt and tugged him closer because what else was there to do after he ran his fingers through her hair? He leaned in and a prim voice to their right cleared her throat.
“Miss Enid requests your presence in the drawing room.” Hildy stood in the entryway to the bathroom, staring, but after she made her pronouncement, she turned and walked away.
“How long had she been there?” Lacy asked.
“Are we sure she doesn’t work for your grandfather? They both seem to have the same goal of keeping my lips off you.”
“We should probably go,” Lacy said.
“Okay, but no matter what happens out there, remember that we’re sticking together. It’s you and me; we’re a team.”
“A team,” she repeated. “Right.”
He lifted her from the counter and clasped her hand, leading her toward the drawing room. Everyone else was already gathered and waiting on them. Belatedly Lacy remembered that she left her scarf in her room, but the monkey appeared to have retired for the night, so it was okay.
“Oh good, you’re here. I was just getting ready to hand out assignments,” Aunt Enid said.
“Assignments?” Lacy repeated.
“Didn’t anyone tell you?” Robert asked, an impish smile firmly in place. “Aunt Enid planned this weekend as a murder mystery. A murder mystery bridal shower. Isn’t that great, honey?” He put his arm around Riley’s shoulders and gave them a squeeze. Riley gave him a weak smile in return.
“Hildy is handing you a piece of paper with your assigned role written on it,” Enid said. “Everyone’s identity will be kept a secret except for two people:
Hildy will be playing the part of the victim, and, since we have an actual police officer in our midst, he’ll be playing the part of the inspector.”
Hildy reached into a bag and pulled out a cape, deerstalker cap, pipe, and magnifying glass, shoving them into Jason’s unsuspecting fingers. Jason looked down at the items, looked back at Lacy, and spoke.
“The team is dead; I hate you.”
Chapter 8
“C’mon, this’ll be good practice for when you’re a detective,” Lacy said.
“Yes, because it’s exactly the same.”
She crept closer, resting her palm on his stomach. “It could be fun.”
“I’m not saying ‘The game’s afoot, Watson,’ ever. So don’t ask.”
“How did you know I was going to?” she said.
“I just did. What did you get?” He tried to peer at her piece of paper, but she shielded it against her chest.
“I haven’t checked yet, and you’re not supposed to look. That’s cheating.” She hid it in her hands and turned away from him to take a peek. The first words screamed at her in all caps, and she actually shuddered. “MURDERER.” Creepy, she thought, reading on. “You kill the maid at dawn, before the rest of the household wakes, by bashing her head with an andiron. She stole your fortune, and this is your revenge.” It went on to list several clues that Lacy was supposed to try and drop into everyday conversation with the rest of the group.
“The game will begin when you least expect it,” Aunt Enid said. “I’m going to bed so I can be well rested for the festivities. Happy hunting,” she added, tipping her head toward Jason.
He gave her a grim smile in return and she took her leave.
“Oh, I think this is trays fun,” Rita enthused.
“You would, mindless hag,” Bob snapped.
“Shouldn’t you be swabbing the deck somewhere, Gilligan?” Rita yelled as they sat side by side on the couch. She turned to the rest of the group with a smile. “Aunt Enid has such a joy de viver, don’t you think, dear?” She addressed this question to Riley who didn’t know quite what to do with it.
Family Case of Murder Page 5