Elvis and the Buried Brides (A Southern Cousins Mystery, plus bonus short story)

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Elvis and the Buried Brides (A Southern Cousins Mystery, plus bonus short story) Page 12

by Webb, Peggy

“Stop right there!” Fayrene yells. “I’m a crackpot.”

  She points the mop at the devil in disguise and he comes to a screeching halt. A split second later, he’s identified her weapon and is laughing his fool head off.

  “Stand aside, you old biddy,” he yells. “I’ve come for my sugar plum.”

  “Not in my house!” Holding my hairspray at eye level, I launch myself toward him with both cans blazing.

  The stocking on his face is no protection from Sebastian Shaper Plus. He commences screaming, and Fayrene races forward to beat him with the mop. Elvis has a good grip on his leg and is shaking him like a bone destined for burial in the backyard.

  “Hold him,” I yell, then race off to the kitchen for a roll of Duct Tape and a length of clothesline I’d meant for Jack to hang in the backyard.

  I don’t know why I didn’t think to have those things upstairs with me. My hands shake as I fumble through my everything drawer. Judging by the sounds coming from the living room, Fayrene and Elvis are more than a match for the late-night intruder.

  I glance at the kitchen clock and see that it’s actually five in the morning. I take that as a good sign, too. If it took the evil lover that long to work up his courage, then he’s afraid of the women he so blithely dismissed as cackling hens.

  Finally I find what I need and head back to truss him up. The sight in the living room stops me in my tracks. Mama is standing there in my nightshirt that says Keep America Beautiful, Stay in Bed, and she’s got her gun pointed right at his private parts.

  “Holy cow, Mama! I said no lethal weapons.”

  The intruder sees me and screeches, “Get these hags away from me!”

  “You call me that again and I’ll shoot off your family jewels.” Mama rams her gun into his privates and he screams like a stuck pig.

  “Leave that to me, Aunt Ruby Nell.” Lovie marches down the stairs like the Queen of Everything. The way she’s moving in my one-size-fits-all nightshirt that proclaims Diva, there’s not a single doubt in anybody’s mind that she loves to make an entrance. “I plan to cut them off one at a time, and then cook them up for the dogs.”

  Good grief! How did she sneak that lethal looking butcher knife up the stairs without me seeing it? I was very specific about no violence. Nobody listens to me around here.

  Still, I can’t argue with the results. By the time I start trussing up the intruder with clothesline and tape, he’s meeker than Alice Ann Street over at Mooreville Video after she cut her own bangs and then sidled into Hair.Net for me to repair the damage.

  Fayrene gives our unwelcome guest one last whack with the mop, and then helps me truss him up.

  “He’s scrawnier than I thought,” Fayrene says.

  “When the chips are down,” Mama says, “cowards always shrivel.”

  In fact, the man is not as tall as I am, and I have better muscle tone, to boot.

  Finally, he’s sitting in the floor with arms taped to his sides and his legs wrapped like the King Tut mummy.

  “Now, let’s just see who you are, Honey Bunny.” Lovie jerks off his stocking cap to reveal a pimply faced, middle-aged man with lank hair that could use a good wash and trim.

  Furthermore, I don’t recognize him. I thought I knew every one of Lovie’s boyfriends.

  “Who is he, Lovie?”

  “I don’t know,” she says.

  “Holy cow! You don’t know!”

  Fayrene picks up her mop. “I’ll beat his name out of him.”

  “Wait a minute, Fayrene.” Mama rips the Duct Tape off his mouth and he screams bloody murder. “You can start beating now.”

  “Hold on!” Lovie leans close to inspect his face. “I know him. He looks different without his cap, that’s all.”

  “Who is it?” We sound like a Greek chorus, all shouting at the same time.

  “It’s my new postman.”

  Frankly, I’m relieved. Though Lovie’s taste in men runs from the sublime to the ridiculous, she would never date a man like the scumbag on my living room floor.

  “We’ve just attacked an employee of the U.S. Government.” Mama jumps off the floor like a woman thirty years younger. “We could all do time.”

  “Good grief, Mama. Let’s not go all dramatic. He’s the one who wrote those threatening letters to Lovie.”

  “Prove it,” he says, and Fayrene smacks that smug look off his face with the business end of the mop.

  “Try this on for size, honey bunny.” Lovie grabs his chin and leans in close. “Breaking and entering.”

  “You invited me here,” he whines. “You’ve had the hots for me ever since I started the mail route. That come-on outfit you wore to the Stables was the final touch.”

  “Now what, Callie?” Mama’s looking at me as if I have all the answers.

  “I’m fresh out of ideas, Mama.”

  “This calls for a powwow and some Prohibition punch.” Lovie heads to the kitchen.

  “Bring me some, too,” the postman says. “I don’t know how I’ll explain to my wife and children that I stayed out all night.”

  Everybody yells, “Wife and children!”

  Lovie comes to a screeching halt and Mama aims her gun at the enemy.

  “Let me just shoot him now, Callie, and put his out of his misery.”

  Elvis takes matters into his own paws and pees on the man’s leg. While our captive is spouting off a string of words hot enough to boil water, we all traipse into the kitchen.

  We’re a motley lot sitting there with our uncombed hair and not a speck of makeup. We’re tired, to boot. Besting a spurned lover is tough business.

  “We can’t just let him sit there in my living room. What if Jack comes home?”

  “We could call the law,” Lovie says, “but who wants to make a federal case out of a few letters, especially since the postman’s the one sporting the bruises?”

  She leaves the table to get fudge and Prohibition punch. Nobody says a word. We just sit there eating as if it’s our last meal as free women.

  When the doorbell rings, I jump six feet into the air.

  “Holy cow! What if it’s Jack?”

  “Well, don’t just sit there, Callie. Go and let my favorite son-in-law in.”

  I hurry out, but I can’t get to the peephole because my couch is blocking the door.

  “Just a minute,” I yell, and then struggle to scoot the sofa aside. You could knock me over with a Kate Spade purse when I see who’s on the other side of the door.

  “Billy Jessup.” I am so relieved I swing the door wide open. Billy has never looked this good to me. “What are you doing out so early?”

  “Going fishing. I just stopped by to say I’ve got your tires repaired and your truck’s sitting over at the feed and seed store. “

  “Already? My goodness, you’ve been busy.”

  “I could say the same for you.” Billy shoves his sunglasses to the top of his head then strides over to Lovie’s postman, all wrapped up in silver tape. “Kinky, Cal.”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” the postman says. “Help me out here, kid.”

  I grab the Duct Tape and slap a strip over his mouth then lead Billy Jessup in to the kitchen.

  “What’s going on here, Cal?” Billy says.

  “You’re going to need this, Billy.”

  I hand him a glass of Prohibition punch, and then tell him the story, with a lot of help from Lovie, Fayrene, and Mama. Billy’s grinning like he’s just landed in the middle of the best time of his life.

  The only good thing I can say about that is, thank goodness, Billy knows how to keep his mouth shut.

  Elvis’ Opinion #3 on Swaggering Teenagers, Foolish Lovers and T-Bone Steak

  You wouldn’t think a swaggering teenager with an earring in the wrong ear would save the day, but that’s exactly what happened. Of course, yours truly had a big hand in taking down the deranged postman, but I think Lovie, Fayrene, Ruby Nell and my human mom would have sat at the table all day arguing over wha
t to do with the man they’d already scared spitless.

  After they told Billy their dilemma, he said, “Shoot, I can take care of that, Cal. No problem and no law.”

  “No violence, Billy,” Callie told him. Between Ruby Nell’s gun and Lovie’s butcher knife, my human mom was already a nervous wreck over the outcome. “We don’t want him hurt…”

  “I do,” Lovie and Ruby Nell said at the same time, and Billy just grinned.

  “Well, half of us do, but the sane half would prefer a gentleman’s agreement so he leaves the Valentine family alone for the rest of his natural life.”

  “Guaranteed,” Billy said, and then he walked off with the postman over his shoulder, dumped him in the passenger side of his truck and drove off.

  Now, don’t ask me what Billy Jessup did. If I had to guess, I’d say that boy is capable of a Come to Jesus meeting that would rival anything Jack Jones and Charlie Valentine can dish out. Suffice it to say, he took sick leave from his mail route and then rumors got around that he had left Tupelo and moved to Memphis.

  The women spent the rest of the morning in the kitchen hashing over what had happened and plowing through fudge and Prohibition punch. They had to sleep off their excitement before they could all go home.

  Callie put her furniture back to rights, washed the pots and pans that had been kicked all over the kitchen, and then put fresh sheets on all the beds.

  True to his word, my human daddy got back home in time for Valentine’s Day.

  Callie was in the tub up to her ears in soap bubbles, and yours truly was on my silk pillow dreaming of T-Bone steaks.

  “What did you do while I was gone?” Jack said.

  “Not a thing, Jack.”

  “Then it’s high time to stir up a little excitement.”

  My human daddy stripped off his clothes and climbed into the tub with my human mom. And if you think I’m going to tell you what happened next, then you don’t know this loyal basset hound.

  Leaving them to their privacy, I slipped downstairs, out the doggie door, and through a board Jack thought he patched in Callie’s back fence.

  Thank you, thank you very much. Elvis has left the building.

  ––The End––

  Yummy Recipes from Lovie’s Kitchen

  Note from the author: The first three recipes are from Alice Virginia Daniel, Tupelo, Mississippi. A flamboyant redhead who knows her way around the kitchen, Alice is one of my best friends, the first soprano I sit beside in choir and the inspiration for Lovie.

  BUTTERSCOTCH CREAM PIE

  4 T. flour

  2 T. butter

  1 cup brown sugar

  3 egg yolks, well beaten

  ¾ c. Pet milk, diluted with 1 ¼ c. water

  1 t. vanilla

  Mix above ingredients in top of double boiler, stirring occasionally, until thick then add vanilla. Put in a pie shell already baked till just before it turns light gold. Top with meringue (recipe below) and bake in preheated oven at 350 degrees till meringue is golden. Refrigerate.

  MERINGUE

  Beat 3 egg whites and 6 T. sugar till stiff.

  “This is a 100-year-old family recipe passed down with the spirit of heavenly flavor.” Alice (Lovie)

  KISS KISS EGGNOG

  6 eggs

  ¾ cup of sugar

  1 pint of whipping cream

  1 pint of bourbon

  1 jigger of rum

  Beat yolks separately with ¼ cup of sugar. Beat whites with ½ cup of sugar. Whip cream. Fold whites and cream into egg yolks. Add bourbon. Last, pour in rum, stirring constantly. Pour into two festive pitchers. Top with dash of nutmeg and chill until ready to serve. Pour in punch cups or mugs. Stir with a cinnamon stick. (Option: a teaspoon of vanilla ice cream added is so creamy and tasty.) Serves 8 – 10, but it all depends on the size of the cup. When in doubt, put in a beautiful punch bowl.

  “Now get your honey bun, raise your cup high and kiss, kiss!” Alice (Lovie)

  AUNT LOUISE’S HERSHEY PIE

  6 chocolate almond bars

  18 marshmallows

  2/3 cup of milk

  1/2 pint of cream

  Put first three ingredients in double boiler and dissolve thoroughly. Cool well. Whip cream and fold in. Put in a large graham cracker pie crust (recipe below). Refrigerate overnight or at least 8 hours before serving.

  “OMGosh, so fine!” Alice (Lovie)

  GRAHAM CRACKER PIE CRUST

  1 ½ cups of graham cracker crumbs

  2 T. sugar

  1 stick of butter, melted

  Mix well. Press into the side of a pie pan. Cook crust at 350 degrees approximately 15 minutes. Cool before adding pie filling.

  Note from the author: This next recipe is original and one of my favorite comfort drinks after a day of writing.

  Jack’s Mayan Hot Chocolate

  3 squares of Ghiradelli Intense Dark 60% Cacao (Evening Dream, All Natural)

  1 T. water

  1 1/2 packets of Splenda or sugar to taste

  ¾ cup of 2% or whole milk

  Dash each of cinnamon and red pepper or to taste

  In a small heavy bottomed pan over a simmer burner or in a double boiler, melt the chocolate squares in 1 T. of water. Stir constantly. Do not let the chocolate come to a boil. Remove from heat and stir in Splenda, cinnamon and red pepper. Return to very low heat and slowly pour in the milk, stirring constantly. Heat till warm but DO NOT let the chocolate milk reach boiling. Boiling spoils the flavor.

  “Pour into a mug then curl up in a rocking chair in front of a fire with your favorite book. You’ll want to keep a spoon handy while you drink because the bottom of the mug is likely to have a lovely chunk of thick, melted chocolate.” Peggy, who is the voice of all the characters, especially Elvis!

  Note from the author: The next recipe is from Darlene Hayes of Pensacola, Florida. A tall, charming blond who drives a Dodge Ram with a Hemi engine, Darlene provided inspiration for Callie’s manicurist as well as her truck. Darlene is a good friend and next door neighbor to my son and his family.

  PUMPKIN PECAN PIE

  Pumpkin layer:

  1 cup of Libby’s 100% pure pumpkin

  1/3 c. sugar

  1 egg, beaten

  1 t. pumpkin pie spice

  Combine pumpkin, sugar, egg and pie spice. Spread over bottom of a baked pie crust.

  Pecan layer:

  2/3 c. light corn syrup

  ½ c. sugar

  2 eggs, beaten

  3 T. melted butter

  ½ t. vanilla

  1 c. pecan pieces

  Combine corn syrup, sugar, eggs, butter and vanilla. Stir in the nuts. Spoon over pumpkin layer. Bake in preheated 350 degree oven for 50 minutes or until a knife inserted in the center comes out clean.

  “I also add cinnamon and cloves to my taste to this recipe.” Darlene (Darlene Johnson Lawford Grant)

  Note from the author: The following two original recipes came from my son, Trey Webb, of Pensacola, Florida. A dog lover, a world-class cook and the world’s best son, Trey was the inspiration for Jarvetis’ favorite red bone hound dog, who is Elvis’ best friend in the Southern Cousins Mysteries.

  ITALIAN CHICKEN SOUP

  3 chicken breasts (boneless, skinless)

  1 medium onion, diced

  1 medium bell pepper, diced

  1 lb. can diced tomatoes

  1 T. minced garlic

  ¼ stick butter

  3 quarts of chicken broth

  ½ t. each salt, black pepper, and Cajun seasoning

  ½ bag of egg noodles

  Dash each of dried oregano and basil

  Boil chicken in broth and Cajun seasoning till done. Remove chicken from broth, cool, and pull into slivers. Add salt, pepper and garlic to the onions then saute’ in ¼ stick of butter. Just before the onions are done, add the bell pepper and finish cooking. Note that you want the bell pepper to still be firm at the end of this process. Add this mixture to the broth. Add the can of t
omatoes with its juice and the slivered chicken to the broth. Cover and simmer on low for at least 1 hour. Before serving, bring back to a slow boil, add the egg noodles and cook till done. Remove from heat and serve.

  COLLARDS

  (SOUL FOOD)

  1 smoked hog jowl

  2 lb. collard greens washed and cut into squares

  4 t. salt or to taste

  4 t. black pepper or to taste

  4 t. sugar or to taste

  Cut hog jowl into 8 to 10 large chunks, add to a large pot, and cover with about 2 inches of water. Add salt, pepper and sugar. Cover and slow boil for about ½ hour. Then add the collars, cover and let slow boil for 10 to 15 minutes more. Reduce heat to low and let cook for about 1 hour. Serve with 2 or 3 pieces of fried hog jowl and Southern cornbread.

  “Friends and family frequently request my collards at pot-luck suppers.” Trey

  Note from the author: Debbie Turner, one of the best cooks in Tupelo, Mississippi, provided the next two recipes. Debbie is the author’s friend and the wife of the author’s webmaster, Roy Turner.

  CHICKEN PESTO

 

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