Pray for Us Sinners, a Cozy Mystery (A Ronnie Lord Mystery, #2) (The Ronnie Lord Mysteries)

by L. K. Ellwood

  Everything in its place. Ronnie surveyed their handiwork. No more excuses. She had plenty of room to cook. She now had a home of her own again. A lonely, two-story home. She sighed and slipped off the leather-strapped sandals.

  “Sorry,” she muttered. “I forgot.”

  Gina sniffed the air between them. “I smell lavender. You showered, too, didn’t you?” she accused. “It’s not been seven days yet, dear.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ronnie echoed, louder. She promised herself to make an appointment with Father Joel for confession. “I’ve had a lot on my mind lately. I don’t know why everything had to happen in the same week. You know, I’m looking forward to going back to work. At least there I can handle the stress.”

  Gina shook her Diet Coke can and tilted it back for the last few drops. “Trust me, it’s only going to get worse. We get to go to sunny South Florida with Ethan,” she said mincingly. “I can’t believe Nana invited him along, and that he accepted! I swear, it’d be like you going out on a date with that Landon kid.”

  “Who told you about that?” Ronnie asked, shocked.

  “Told me about what?” Gina eyed her sister with suspicion. “I was just making a comparison, it isn’t like…”

  Gina’s voice faded as Ronnie hopped from her stool, collecting the remnants of their fast food lunch for the trash.

  “Ronnie?”

  “What?”

  “Were you going tell me something?”

  “No.”

  Gina took a deep breath. “Ronnie?”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you on drugs?” Gina said it with such seriousness that Ronnie could only stare at her.

  “Seriously, Ronnie,” Gina added. “If you have been taking anything or drinking so much that your judgment is being impaired, I would like to know.”

  “Look around you, Gee.” Ronnie waved her arms. “Do you see any liquor? Do you see any brown bottles of pills? I am perfectly fine, you already know chocolate is my drug of choice. My experience with poisoned Oreos notwithstanding.”

  “Liquor-filled chocolates, then?”

  “I assure you, I am not under the influence of any type of narcotic, depressant, MSG, whatever.”

  “Yet you are going to a musical benefit with the boy who dug up your great-great aunt’s grave,” Gina accused, tightening her grip on her empty soda can so much that it crinkled loudly. “Suddenly, stone crabs with Ethan Fontaine doesn’t sound so bad.”

  “Hey, I’m only doing this to discourage him in the future,” Ronnie said. “We’re going to the benefit so I can find a way to get to Nora Daily, and maybe salvage this secret investigation Lew is undertaking. Landon and I will probably have a miserable time, and he’ll be so bored with me that I’ll have to drive home because he’ll fall asleep halfway through our date.”

  Gina only gaped at her. “I can’t imagine what attracted him to you in the first place.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Anyway, Lew isn’t going to be happy with you poking around in police business again.” Gina shook her head. “And if you’re so adamant about checking out Nora, why don’t you have Lew take you to this thing? At least he’d keep an eye on you.”

  “If you haven’t noticed, Lew and I are still on the outs.”

  “I have noticed. The whole town has noticed. Why?”

  Ronnie raised an eyebrow. So Loni had kept it in the vault. She knew Gina did not socialize with Shirley Anderson, and she doubted Lew would take his dilemmas to her sister.

  She reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a second Diet Coke for herself. “A while back, Lew was pushing to forward our relationship, er, sexually. I told him I wasn’t about doing that before marriage. Lew got mad, then I got mad at him for being mad. I don’t really want to be mad at him anymore, and before you ask, no I’m not going out on this date to make him jealous. This is purely reconnaissance work.”

  Ronnie watched her sister absorb the information thoughtfully. The next words out of Gina’s mouth were the last ones Ronnie expected to hear.

  “That’s it? So why wait?”

  Silence reigned, and was quickly followed by the sound of a soda can hitting the kitchen floor. Carbonated liquid fizzled through an open crack in the pull tab, spraying cola as the can rolled from Ronnie’s feet.

  “Damn it!” Ronnie grabbed a roll of paper towels, unraveling four large squares, which she used to blot the vinyl tiling. “I got it all over my pants, too.”

  Gina clicked her tongue in mock sympathy and rolled lazily away from the counter, joining her sister on the floor with a dry towel. “You know, if I had known you’d react like that, I’d have kept my mouth shut.”

  “If I’d have known you were going to say that…” Words failed Ronnie. “Never mind. I never expected that! It’s a good thing I wasn’t drinking this soda, otherwise I’d have been shooting Diet Coke out my nose. What brought on this sudden surge of liberal thinking? I suppose you’re going to ask for the Playboy mags back, huh?”

  Gina shrugged, patting a small soda puddle. “No, I just figure if it came down to being with Lew or Landon Dennis… go with the former. It’s not like you’re sixteen. You’ve been married. Besides, I’ve seen Lew when he’s around you. He wants to stick around for the long haul.”

  “My head is spinning,” Ronnie said, her voice light. “I can’t believe you, of all people, are endorsing a sexual relationship before marriage. Are you on drugs?”

  “No.” Gina frowned.

  “Would you be giving this advice to Nana?”

  “No comment.” Gina grasped the small of her back as she stood. “I need to pick up the boys. At least reconsider going to this Alhambra thing? If Lorraine found out, it really would upset her, even if you told her it was part of your so-called investigation. She’d probably rather have you at Two Witt to snoop around Nora’s room.”

  “I already put the kibash on that, and Lorraine doesn’t need to know everything I do.” Ronnie paused. “Anyway, I’ll probably still be here, sitting stunned and thinking about what you just said,” she added. “You know, it almost makes me think that you and Lew…”

  “Did absolutely nothing,” Gina finished for her. “Second base at best.”

  “So you waited for your wedding night, too, huh?”

  But Gina just grabbed her purse and padded toward the front door. Ronnie lifted herself from the kitchen floor and followed her.

  “Gina?”

  Gina paused at the door, her hand curled around the knob. She turned back to her sister with a sly smile.

  “You know, you don’t need to know everything I do, either,” she said, and left.

  Ronnie collapsed on her sofa, shaking her head. Why bother to watch Allayne’s soap? The one in which she lived proved more dramatic.

  ~ * ~

  Landon was due at six, and Ronnie was ready long before that. No calls from Two Witt or Lew had come during the day, much of which Ronnie spent puttering around the house. Ronnie did not want to initiate contact herself; she imagined Lorraine and Lew would indeed be as upset as Gina to learn she was planning to attend the Alhambra benefit, despite the possibility that a clue to Allayne’s death could be found there.

  Forgoing cosmetics, jewelry, and perfume to make up for the morning’s accidental shower, Ronnie slipped into a black pencil skirt reaching just below the knee, white button-down blouse, and beige hose. Since all of her dress shoes were either wholly or partly made of leather, she settled on her black Vans and hoped nobody would say anything.

  She perched nervously on the edge of her couch; preparing for the evening had taken five minutes, and she now had well over an hour to kill. She paced the first floor, checked and rechecked the battery on her cell phone, and inspected the wire rack containing her compact discs to make sure they were all in alphabetical order. They were.

  She sat down again stared at the space made on the other side of the room, where the television set she had ordered would be placed on Monday morning, and sighed.
Flipping through channels of garbage held more appeal than doing nothing, and Ronnie wondered why she just didn’t make an offer for Bill’s set when she moved. He could have bought one of those plasma flat sets to go with the pool table.

  Abruptly she leaped from the sofa and wrung her heads. Why am I nervous? It’s just Landon Dennis, she berated herself. It’s not a date, it’s not a date, it’s not, it’s not, it’s not!

  She glanced out her window for a glimpse of a pickup truck, and saw only the neighbor’s identical house across the street. A stooped old woman in a floral housedress presently exited with a Yorkshire terrier in tow, folding her arms and tapping her foot as the dog bounded to the adjacent yard and paid its respects.

  Aha, thought Ronnie as the two slipped back inside, the old woman checking first for spies. There was one mystery solved as Ronnie recalled the gift on her lawn the day her couch arrived. She sighed and turned back to her living room, cocking her head at an object resting at the foot of the kitchen counter. It was a box.

  Jim’s things. The only one she had yet to open.

  Ronnie swallowed. Sifting through the other boxes over the past few days had been a chore, but at least there were people drifting in and out of the house, so Ronnie was able to find enough distractions which prevented a complete breakdown. Much of what she unearthed went to Ian and Elliott, as Jim had no siblings to inherit, and Jim’s cousins had not seemed interested in taking the video games and old sports magazines.

  Now, lifting the small file box to the counter, she could see why she had been loath to open this one. Jim had packed it himself, during a move from his apartment to their first home. She smoothed a finger across his slanted handwriting. Me and Ron.

  “Now or never,” she muttered, and tossed back the dented lid. She had no idea what to expect, and was pleasantly surprised to extract items she had not seen in years. A worn billfold Jim had stubbornly refused to trash because it bore the logo of his beloved Miami Dolphins. A Knights of Columbus hatpin that had belonged to his father. A program from a Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers concert with two ticket stubs attached… their first date.

  Ronnie flipped through the pages. Her first date with Lew had been a concert. Now this musical thing with Landon… surely there was not a correlation?

  A framed photo of Lew and Jim in their uniforms. Jim’s blond hair was windblown, his eyes concealed with mirrored shades, his arms tanned and strong. Lew’s mustache had not yet grown out, yet he still looked handsome. Ronnie set the picture face down on the counter and peered into the box, fighting back a gasp.

  Sitting atop an old Jacksonville Suns program was the Walnut Man. One of the plastic google eyes had become unglued, leaving Ronnie with a walnut cyclops.

  And he was from Georgia, not New York, Ronnie saw as she gingerly lifted him from the box. Jim had purchased it on a day trip to Savannah for the St. Patrick’s Day parade and celebration. The memory returned in clear focus now: she had wondered why the souvenir shop did not sell pecan men, since they were more conducive to Georgia. Jim paid the two bucks for the trinket anyway, and took her to a seafood restaurant on River Street… where he proposed.

  Ronnie clutched Walnut Man to her chest, unable to hold the back the tears. Things were clearer to her now, and she understood exactly why she was rejecting Lew’s intimate overtures. It had nothing to do with wanting to wait until marriage, or being more attracted to another, younger man. It had everything to do with Jim, and the notion in her head that she was being unfaithful to him.

  She wiped a tear away from her cheek. She thought she had been able to put that behind her, and as she quietly replaced the items and closed the box she wondered if that day would ever come to pass. It has to, she told herself. Jim’s not coming back, but you are here and very much alive. Lew is here.

  She heard a rumbling in the distance and turned toward the window. Now Landon was here.

  Hurriedly she rushed into the guest bathroom and rinsed her face, patting it dry until satisfied that nobody could tell she had been crying. She was still checking herself in the mirror when the doorbell rang.

  Landon drew in a breath as she answered the door, glancing appreciatively at how her outfit accentuated her curved hips and slender waist. He, Ronnie had to admit, looked very handsome in his pressed khaki slacks, white shirt, and black blazer. She noticed his hands tremble slightly as he offered her a small bouquet of white carnations wrapped in pink plastic and secured with a matching ribbon.

  “I’ll put these in some water and then we can head out,” she said in thanks, dashing into the kitchen without inviting him inside the house. She felt like a teenager with her prom date.

  Landon followed slowly and leaned against the counter. “I don’t know if you want to go in my truck or not,” he said apologetically. “It’s a mess.”

  “No problem. We’ll take my car.”

  “Cool.” He nodded. “I didn’t know what to get you,” he added, gesturing to the flowers. “I never bought anything for a girl before.”

  Ronnie smiled at being referred to as a ‘girl’. “Not even Jeanette?”

  “No.” Ronnie detected a hint of regret in his deep voice. “Probably why we didn’t last very long.”

  “You know, I saw her at the shivah. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind hearing from you,” Ronnie said as she filled her martini pitcher with water and arranged the flowers.

  “No, that’s all right. Jeanette and me, we just weren’t compatible, and we won’t be. I’d rather focus on the future than dredge up the past.”

  “Yeah.” Ronnie set the makeshift vase next to her stove and turned to see Landon dredging up her past. He had opened the box and was now pawing through its contents.

  “Uh, Landon—”

  Landon’s face broke into a wide grin as he pulled out a compact disc. “Hey, you’re a Rush fan, too?”

  “Uh, yeah.” She stared at the copy of Roll the Bones Landon held. Her first birthday gift to Jim. “I’m sort of a fan by proxy, anyway. My late husband was really into them, that’s how I got hooked.”

  Landon palmed the jewel case. “Man, I love Rush! We can listen to this in the car.” He slid off his stool and smiled at her. “Hey, that’s one more thing we have in common.”

  Ronnie grabbed her purse from the counter and followed Landon out the door. “Yeah, how about that,” she said, locking the deadbolt. To the future.

  ~ * ~

  “Dreamline” played at high volume as Ronnie steered the Firebird onto the Interstate. Landon mimicked Neil Peart’s drum line and mouthed the lyrics. Ronnie only half-listened, hearing something in the song about a map to Jupiter.

  Ronnie shot him a concerned glance. A one-way ticket to Jupiter sounded good right about now.

  Abruptly Landon turned to her, calling to her over the music. “Hey, did you catch their show last time they rolled through town?”

  Ronnie turned down the volume and shook her head. “Didn’t get there,” she said. She did not see the point in mentioning that Jim had been killed weeks before the band brought their tour to Jacksonville; who knew what had happened to their tickets.

  “Missed a great show.” Landon shook his head in sympathy. “They can still kick ass.”

  “Next time, perhaps.” Ronnie fiddled with the volume knob, then suddenly eased her foot off the gas pedal. “Hey, Landon,” she said uneasily, “by chance do you have an e-mail address? I’m, uh, updating the info on my Palm Pilot.”

  “I got one on Yahoo, but I only check it when I’m at the library.” Landon was now playing air bass. “I don’t have a computer at home.”

  She relaxed and stifled a laugh. “You’re really into this music, aren’t you?”

  “You know it. I’d give anything to play the drums like Neil Peart.” Landon chuckled. “You know anyone who plays guitar? Rick’s a big fan, too, and he and I once talked about putting together a tribute band, but he struggles as it is with just the bass, never mind having to play bass and keyboards simultaneously lik
e Ged does.”

  “Few people can.”

  Ronnie blinked. Ged. Gedhead.

  Oh, God.

  Ronnie geared down suddenly, easing the Firebird into a deceleration lane. Landon squirmed in his seat.

  “What’s going on? Did you forget something?”

  You bet I did. Ronnie exited the interstate, made a right turn underneath the overpass and got back on in the other direction. “Landon, by chance does your friend Rick have an e-mail address?”

  “Yeah, who doesn’t?” Landon shrugged. “I don’t know it offhand, but he goes by ‘GedHead’ on some Internet sites. I think that’s his e-mail ID, too.”

  Ronnie sped to the limit and activated the cruise control. “I hope you don’t mind, Landon. We’re going to have to make a detour before we go to this thing.” If there’s a point in going at all.

  “Hey, no problem.” Landon seemed unfazed by the change in plans. “To tell you truth, I wasn’t much looking forward to it.” He leaned closer and tried a hand down her shoulder. “I just wanted to spend time with you.”

  Ronnie did not flinch, but cast him a shy smile.

  “So,” he said, his voice husky, “where we going?”

  “We’re going to visit some old friends, and you’re going to tell me how to get there.”

  ~ * ~

  Landon’s directions were concise. In a matter of minutes Ronnie was cruising a neighborhood of duplex homes, searching for a black Toyota RAV with a Marilyn Manson sticker on the back window that Landon said would be parked in front of the correct abode.

  “What do you want with Rick and Dakota, anyway?” Landon asked. “You said she wasn’t helpful before. What makes you think she’ll change her mind?”

  Ronnie slowed along the curb across the street, coming to a stop behind a Volkswagen van. “I’m thinking she’ll change her mind if she doesn’t want to be pinned as an accomplice to murder,” she murmured then looked up at Landon’s questioning gaze. “I really should have put some more thought into it. The other day my sister found a death pool Web site where one contestant had picked Allayne Witt to die.”