Death is Long Overdue (Phee Jefferson Book 1)

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Death is Long Overdue (Phee Jefferson Book 1) Page 5

by Amy Lilly


  "Yes. Hello," I responded coolly. "You're Grace. Clint's date from last night."

  "Date?" She laughed and shook her head. "Don't tell my husband! No, you have it all wrong. I am here from the state police academy to do some mandatory training. Clint was just nice enough to drag me out of my hotel room and away from vending machine food to offer me a nice dinner. He's friends with my husband, Jacob. Who, by the way, gave his blessing that I eat real food since I am eating for two." She nibbled the edges of her muffin.

  "Oh? Really? Congratulations!" I stammered as I tried to process the fact that Clint had not been on a date with her. My heart lifted a little, but then sank as I realized Clint thought that I had been on a date myself last night. Not that he probably cared. "How long are you here?"

  "Just until Tuesday. I could have driven back home this weekend, but my husband was off on a fishing trip with his brothers. I decided to stay here through the weekend and do some antique shopping. Miller's Cove is a treasure chest for an antique hound like me.”

  "You like antiques? Me too? You should go to Jensen's Antique Emporium over on Elm Street. They give the best deals. I happen to know they have a beautiful rocking chair that would be perfect in a baby's room."

  "Clint told me that you know your antiques. He went on and on about how amazing your house is. I had to hear all about his best friend Rick's little sister, the town librarian." Grace brushed some crumbs that had fallen on the front of her blouse.

  "Really? He talked about me?" I couldn't stop the huge grin that spread across my face. "I mean. I'm glad he likes my house. I've spent a lot of time decorating it." I tried playing it cool. Inside I felt like a middle school kid receiving her first invitation to the dance.

  "Yep. Well, I've got to go. Lots of shops to visit today. It was nice seeing you again." Grace gave me a quick wave goodbye and headed out of the shop. Still smiling like a cat who found the hidden catnip stash, I headed to the counter to pay for the cake.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.” - Virginia Woolf, A Room of One's Own

  The following week was incredibly busy at the library as we had our annual Fall Book Sale to raise money for new programs. Local author and semi-celebrity, Joanna Franklin, came on Wednesday to give a talk on how she became a writer. That evening after I had closed up the library, I decided to swing by Odd Couple's and grab a bite to eat. My cupboards at home were bare, and I was too tired to go to Abe's Market.

  Stepping into Odd Couple's Diner was like taking a step back in time. It was an authentic 1950's diner that the current owner had vowed to keep intact when he inherited it from his grandparents. The owners, Seth Hansen and his wife Stephanie, were a young couple in their late twenties. Seth had served four years in the Coast Guard. When he came home, he had gone to work with his grandparents. Last year, Ida and Melba Hansen had decided to start spending their winters in Florida so they handed the keys to the diner over to Seth as an early inheritance and headed south. The diner served burgers and sandwiches named after 1950's actors, musicians and such. I settled on Bleu Suede Shoes - a charbroiled burger smothered with bleu cheese and served on a grilled Kaiser bun. Thick cut fries topped it all off. I would have to walk ten miles to burn off the calories, but it was well worth it.

  "Care if I join you?" Clint stood next to my booth with his hat in his hands.

  "Sure." I looked up at him and felt my cheeks flush a little. "I just ordered, but you can probably catch Steph before she gives the order to the kitchen."

  Stephanie walked over to the booth to set down my root beer. "Hi there, Clint. What can I get for you?"

  "I think I'll get the Chubby Checker. Can you put an extra slice of pepper jack cheese on it for me and hold the onions? And a glass of tea, please." Clint set his hat on the seat next to him and leaned back. "What a day! The whole town is going nuts with Huey Long's murder. I've had about a hundred calls from people saying they saw someone in their backyard and can we come check it out. Everyone's on edge and people are scared. I haven't had a bite to eat all day."

  "It’s a small town. People are nervous that someone they go to church with might be a killer. Any word on how Carla died? I read about her odd death in the newspaper." I sipped my root beer through my straw. I looked up at him and fluttered my eyelashes at him. I hoped I looked like a young ingénue from a 1950's classic film.

  "Do you have something caught in your eye?" Clint asked ruining my attempt at channeling Marilyn Monroe. "No. It'll take at least a few days to get the toxicology reports back from Carla's autopsy. Chris is a mess. He and Carla had been going through some tough times with their marriage, but just the week before had started marriage counseling. They were even talking about starting a family. Now, Carla is dead and no one knows how or why. Poor guy."

  "It's sad. I'll be honest with you. Carla has never been very nice to me, but I certainly didn’t want her dead. I feel just awful about Huey, too. He was always grabbing at me and making lewd comments, but I think he was just a lonely little man who didn't realize that he came across as creepy rather than suave." I shook my head sadly. Stephanie came with our plates of food. We both were silent while we savored our burgers.

  "I'm so hungry right now that I could eat ten of these," Clint said after taking another bite of his burger. "Can we talk about something else besides death, please? I think I've just about had my fill after the past few days."

  "Well, I can tell you all about how I thought I had silverfish in my genealogy collection." I grinned across the table at him. "In the library world, that's big time crime."

  "How did you manage to solve the case?" Clint played along.

  "It turns out that it was just a piece of thread from a bookmark that Mrs. Grimes saw. Her eyesight is getting as bad as her hearing. Poor thing." I took a bite of my fries. I grabbed the salt shaker and shook some onto my plate.

  "You are a true crime stopper," Clint chuckled. "Mrs. Grimes was one of my calls from today. I had to go through every room in her house looking for a possible burglar. It turns out that the noise she heard outside was just a stray cat going through her garbage."

  We ate in companionable silence after that. When I had finished off the last French fry, I sat back in my seat to find Clint watching me. "What?" I asked uncomfortably. "Do I have something on my face?" I wiped my mouth with my napkin.

  "No. I was just sitting here thinking how nice it is to spend time with you. I'm comfortable with you. Most girls feel the need to chatter about nothing because they have to fill the silence. You don't ever do that. I like it. You did miss a spot of bleu cheese on your cheek though." He reached across the table and wiped the corner of my mouth with his napkin. "Much better. Don't want anything to mess up that pretty face."

  "You think I'm pretty?" I suddenly felt shy and uncomfortable. I squirmed a little in my seat.

  "Ophelia Jefferson. I think you are beautiful," Clint said softly and took my hand.

  "Thanks. I think you're beautiful, too," I said softly. I turned beet red. I stammered, "I mean handsome."

  Clint laughed. "I'm good with handsome. I'd better get back to work, Phee. If I don't see you before then, I'll see you at your dad's big birthday bash." He stood up, grabbed the check off the table and went to the register. I loved to watch that man walk. I leaned back contentedly. I decided to live dangerously and order a slice of Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice Apple Pie. Life's too short to pass up dessert.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.” - Dr. Seuss, Happy Birthday to You!

  The rest of the week passed quickly. Before I knew it, it was Sunday evening and time for my dad's party. I took my time getting ready for the night’s festivities. Mom had called earlier and advised me that quite a few more people than originally planned were coming to celebrate Dad's big 6-0. Because the weather was unseasonably warm, she had decided to have it on the
patio overlooking the cove. I spent the afternoon running around town purchasing lights to hang across the back yard and citronella candles to keep the mosquitoes at bay. I dropped the cake and the lights off to Mom and hurried home to get showered and dressed.

  I had purchased an emerald green silk halter dress and a beautiful ombré shawl in complementary shades. I managed to coil my long, curly hair up into a chignon secured with a silver hair comb. I added a silver cuff bracelet with a Celtic design and dainty silver hoop earrings with green jade stones. I swiped a shimmer of silvery shadow across my lids and added a hint of liner and black mascara. For a final touch, I applied a soft petal pink lip stain. Looking in my vanity mirror, I felt pleased with the result. Clint had mentioned seeing me at the party. I was determined that tonight he would see me as Ophelia Jefferson, gorgeous woman of intrigue, and not as Flea, Rick Jefferson’s little sister. I slipped my newly polished toes into a pair of green and silver sandals with a kitten heel and headed out the door.

  As I drove up to my parent's house, I saw that the caterer's van was already there. I walked around the side of the house and into my parent's backyard. Mom and the caterers had done a marvelous job transforming the patio. Several long tables had been set up to accommodate the additional party-goers. The lights crisscrossed the patio and lanterns of varying shades hung from the trees. Mom had created centerpieces using fall leaves and candles floating in water in large, light green glass bowls. The caterers were busy grilling and setting out the side dishes. I spotted Mom fussing with the cake next to the gift table. I walked over to her and placed my Dad's present on the table.

  "Hi, darling! What do you think?" Mom gestured to the patio.

  "I think it looks magical, Mom! You have done an amazing job with everything. Dad's going to love it. Where is he, by the way?" I looked around but didn't see him.

  "He’s hiding out in the den since he says I drive him crazy with all of my fussing." Mom laughed. My parents still acted like teenagers in love. They had met at the university when my dad was finishing his PhD in English and my mom was studying for her Master's degree in art history. Dad said it was love at first sight when he spotted my mom sitting in the Quad. He said she sat there quietly drawing underneath a tree and was oblivious to everyone and everything around her. He had been playing Frisbee with his friends and had "accidentally" let it land in the grass at her feet. They had been together ever since.

  "Do you need my help with anything?" I offered as I looked around to see what else needed to be done.

  "No, but thank you. You go on in and visit with your dad,” Mom replied. "The band will be here in a few minutes, and I need to get them set up and ready to play before the guests start arriving. Everyone should be here in the next half hour or so."

  "Alright. If you are sure, then I am going to go hang out with Dad." I turned and headed through the French doors and went to go find Dad in his "man cave" as Juliet and I called it. I spotted him sleeping on his leather couch. He had fallen asleep with a book on his chest, and he was gently snoring. Our Irish Setter, Hamlet, was asleep on the floor next to him. I tiptoed out and quietly shut the door. I decided to go hang out in the kitchen and stay out of my mother's way. She was tougher than a drill sergeant at boot camp when it came to hosting parties. My brother, sister and I were smart soldiers and kept our heads down and ran for cover when party planning was in full swing.

  I poured myself a glass of lemonade and sat on a kitchen stool. I watched through the window as Mom directed the band to their designated spots. It would be great to have everyone here. Dad's brother, Uncle Paul, was driving up to surprise Dad. Uncle Paul was a retired Marine sniper. He lived in a remote cabin two hours from Miller's Cove and didn't venture out too often.

  "Hey there, PheePhee." Rick walked into the kitchen followed by his very pregnant wife, Carrie. "Rumor has it that you are doing a little B & E. Interesting career move. How's that working for you?"

  Carrie swatted him. "Rick, leave your sister alone. I’m sure she is upset enough about what happened without you picking on her. Sheesh! What are you? Twelve?"

  "Today I am feeling a young ten," Rick joked. He leaned over, kissed Carrie and rubbed her protruding belly. "Don't worry R.J. and C.J. I won't let your bad Aunt PheePhee lead you into a life of crime."

  "Ha ha. My family is just full of comedians. I assume Clint told you since it’s supposed to be top secret." I glared at him in mock anger. "And quit calling me PheePhee. I am not a French Poodle."

  "Yep." Rick opened the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. Twisting the top off, he turned back to me. "You should be glad it was Clint that took the call. Otherwise you might be in the big house. We’d have to change your name to Hoosegow Honey."

  "Whatever. Just promise you won't tell Mom and Dad. Especially not tonight!" I admonished him. Rick might be older than me, but most of the time, I felt like a big sister.

  "Hmmm...My silence could be bought..."Rick stroked his upper lip as if he were an evil villain with a handlebar mustache.

  "Enough you two! At least you both give me experience on dealing with bickering siblings." Carrie laughed and rubbed her stomach.

  "How are the twins? And how are you? You look marvelous, by the way. I can't believe it's already been seven months!" I adored my sister-in-law. She was going to be a phenomenal mother and her gentle nature was a good balance to Rick's hyperactive, comedic personality.

  "I'm alright. I am just tired most days,” Carrie replied. "I’m glad I was able to start my maternity leave early. I don't think I could take teaching a room full of active kindergartners right now. I swear all I do is eat and sleep. The doctor said that he may put me on bed rest for the final month. As exhausted as I am, I am looking forward to it!"

  "I will be happy to supply you with all the books, movies and chocolate bonbons your heart could desire. I can't wait to meet my niece and nephew." I looked forward to being an aunt. I wasn't quite ready for children yet, but I liked to imagine the future family I might have. I wondered if they might inherit their father's green eyes.

  "Phee?" Startled, I realized I had been daydreaming and Carrie was talking to me. "You were a million miles away. What were you thinking about?"

  "Oh, nothing. Just planning what to get for the babies' first Christmas," I fibbed. I heard the front door open and heard Juliet's voice. She walked in the kitchen and behind her stood Wade. I did a quick double take. Where was his wheelchair?

  "What...? What's going on here? Wade? Are you standing?" The shock made me stumble over my words.

  "Yup!" Wade leaned over and tapped where his calves used to be before the IED. "I'm bionic, baby!" A wide grin split his face.

  "Oh my gosh! When? Where? How? Hey! How did you manage to keep this a secret from me?" I demanded.

  "Whoa! When? Oh, about 5 months ago, but I kept my physical therapy a secret because what if I just couldn't do it? I have been visiting the V.A. hospital over in Burlington on my days off. And, Phee, you are incredibly easy to keep secrets from. No offense, but you kind of live in your own little world sometimes," Wade said.

  Tearing up, I sniffled a little. I walked over and gave him a huge hug. "I am just happy for you, my friend. I even forgive you for keeping it a secret from me." I released him and then looked at my sister. Then I looked down and realized that she and Wade were holding hands. Juliet must have been the "hot date" from the other day.

  "And?" I hinted and looked pointedly at their clasped hands.

  "And I ran into Wade when I was teaching yoga over at the V.A. You know I do a modified routine for people in chairs or who aren't as mobile. Wade showed up for one of my classes. We went and had coffee afterwards and one thing led to another..." Juliet shrugged her shoulders.

  "I can't believe you kept it a secret from me!" I really needed to start paying attention because I was clearly clueless with what was going on around me.

  "It was my decision to keep it a secret," Wade replied. "Juliet wanted to tell you after the first date
, but I told her I wanted to wait. You are my boss. It might make things a little weird between us."

  "I forgive you, but only because I am so happy that one, you are walking, and two, you are dating my flaky sister!" I teased them.

  "Hey now! I am not a flake. I just operate on another plane of existence than the rest of you unenlightened people," Juliet protested.

  Just then, Dad walked into the kitchen. His red hair was a mess after his nap. It stuck out at angles that must have confounded gravity and a comb.

  "Greetings and salutations, progeny!" Dad yawned. "Where's your mom?"

  "Hello, father dearest!" Rick, Juliet and I chimed in unison. We burst out laughing. Carrie and Wade looked at us, then at each other and just shook their heads.

  "Mom's out on the patio directing the band," I informed him. "But she will murder you if you go out there without straightening up a little after your nap. You'd better hurry because I see that Sheriff Dawes and Sheila have already arrived. We'd better head out."

  "Tell your mother that I will be out in just a second. I need to make myself gorgeous for my fans." Dad wiggled his eyebrows and pretended to pat his hair like a Hollywood starlet from the 1950's. He turned and headed down the hallway.

  The rest of us walked outside to greet the guests who were starting to arrive.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “And I like large parties. They’re so intimate. At small parties there isn’t any privacy.” - F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

  The party was going full swing. Mom and Dad were dancing to the Bee Gees. Rick, Juliet and I pretended to not be mortified by Dad's John Travolta arm. Everyone seemed to be having fun. Grant arrived with his mom. I was shocked by how haunted Shari looked compared to last time I saw her. Her husband's death must really be taking a toll on her. I decided to make a point to go visit her more frequently.

 

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