Death of a Wolfman (A Lily Gayle Lambert Mystery Book 1) (3 page)

CHAPTER TWO

I hadn’t much more than put my foot in the door of the It’ll Grow Back Beauty Shop when a pack of women surrounded me. All of them shouting questions. My claustrophobia decided to act up right about then, so I pushed through them to one of the chairs in front of the sinks.

“Ladies, please. Y’all know I can’t discuss the particulars of the case.”

My best friend and the owner of the shop, Dixie Newsom, threw her hands in the air. “Come on, Lily Gayle. You can’t hold out on
us
.”

I twirled around in the chair. “Y’all know Ben’ll kill me if I tell anything.”

A chorus of groans rained on my head.

“Come on, Lily Gayle. Spill.”

Chanting rose all around me. “Spill! Spill! Spill!”

Gazing at all my friends, my heart swelling, I thought,
What a crew!
Women I’d grown up with and their mothers. Could it really hurt to tell them just a little? I’d bet Reenie over at the sheriff’s office had spouted off to her friends in the younger crowd.

Oh, Lord; I thought I might bust with the news.

A real murder. Right here on the outskirts of our town. With the added bonus of it being a stranger, so nobody was in mourning. Nobody needed to watch what they said for fear of upsetting the victim’s family. Oh, it was just too delicious. Did those fancy New York newspeople feel this rush when they had the scoop on some big breaking news of the world?

“For cryin’ out loud, Lily Gayle. The suspense is killin’ us,” Dixie wailed. “Besides, you don’t want to be holding out on the woman who does your roots. Very bad things can happen if color isn’t applied just right.”

A collective gasp went up from the other ladies. Threatening a woman’s hair just wasn’t done. But every one of them practically had her tongue hanging out, wanting the same information.

“No need to get nasty, Dixie.” My hand went to my hair, fingering the strands. Surely Dixie wouldn’t carry out a threat like that. Would she?

“Weeeeell. Seeing as how y’all have got me trapped in this chair and my hair has been threatened—”

“Wait!” Dixie rushed over and locked the door. “We don’t want anybody interruptin’ at a crucial moment.”

Everyone pushed closer to be sure and catch every word.

“I was having dinner with Ben when he got a call from Reenie about an emergency on the outskirts of town.”

“What were you doin’ having dinner with Ben?” Ginny piped in.

“Hush, Ginny,” Dixie hissed. “Who cares why? We want to hear the good stuff.”

Ginny pouted. “I just wanted to know why she was out with Ben when everybody knows they fight like cats and dogs most of the time.”

“It’s OK, Ginny,” I soothed. “He
is
family. I try to get along with him whenever I can.”

“OK. Enough with that already,” said Mildred Nelson: she of the blue-rinsed hair. I’d grown up with Millie’s daughter Jessica. Jessica was one of those who’d left right after high school graduation to find something better.

“Anyway, when Ben got the call, he thought it was just a Halloween prank. Kids, probably.”

“Will you get to the good stuff? Was there really a dead werewolf out there?”

“Where did you hear that?” I couldn’t believe someone had scooped my big news. Who could it have been?

Dixie waved her hands around. “It was floating around the Blue Chip Café this morning.” She smiled at me. “But I knew you’d have the real story so I waited.”

Slightly mollified, I continued. “As a matter of fact, there was a wolf man, not a werewolf, out in the woods.”

“What’s the difference?” wondered Mildred.

“I wanted to explain the whole thing to Ben last night, but he got on his high horse just because I told him I’d seen an episode of
CSI
that had the same thing.”

“We all know how Ben can be. Go on.”

“It’s a rare genetic disorder called hypertrichosis. It’s where a person has hair all over their body instead of just in the normal places. Some of them it’s not so bad and they can just shave it or have it removed and go on with their life. But sometimes it’s really bad and there’s nothing that can be done.”

Dixie’s eyes were big as saucers. “Really? Wow, that must be tough to live with. Did Ben have any idea who it was?”

“Nope. He said he would call the sheriffs in the surrounding counties to see what they might know.”

“Uh-oh,” whispered Mildred. “I see Ben coming across the town square.”

“Everybody act natural,” shouted Dixie, who then proceeded to shove my head into the basin so fast I thought my feet might flip over into the sink. From my position, I couldn’t see what the others were doing, but the sound of hair dryers started up so they must be pretending to be waiting their turn.

“Oh my God!” Dixie moaned. “The door’s still locked. What if he tries to come in here? He’ll know we’re up to something.”

From the depths of the sink, I replied, “Don’t worry. He’s never come in here before. Why would he today?”

Dixie’s nails scrubbed my scalp way too hard.

“Hey. Careful with the nails. I have a sensitive head.”

Dixie’s hands continued their assault on me. I struggled to sit up, but my friend pushed my head back down. “Will you calm down before my scalp starts bleeding?”

“Murphy’s Law. It’s Murphy’s Law. I just know he’s gonna try that door this time.”

I reached up and grabbed Dixie’s wrists, clamping down hard on the nerve so she couldn’t scrub anymore.

“Oh, no. He’s looking right at me. He’s smiling. What do I do?”

“Smile back at him. Stop acting weird. Be natural. He’ll go on by.”

Dixie let out a big breath, knees sagging. “He went on by.”

I managed to extricate my head from the sink. Peering into the mirror, I moved my hair around, trying to see my scalp. “Am I bleeding?”

“Will you stop worrying about your head? We could’ve been clobbered by Ben.”

I sniffed. “Y’all are the ones who insisted on knowing the scoop. You can’t blame me that he walked by right in the middle of it.”

“Hey,” said Ginny. “Isn’t that LizBeth Mitchell over there?”

We all turned to look out the window. Sure enough, the daughter of the Mitchell family could be seen strolling across the town square where hundred-year-old magnolias held court over the fountain dedicated to the war veterans of the county.

“LizBeth. What kind of name is that, I ask you?” questioned Dixie. “I guess Elizabeth wasn’t good enough for the high-and-mighty Mitchells.”

“Stop your sniping,” I said. “I happen to know that LizBeth is a really nice woman. A little weird, but nice anyway. Look.” I pointed out the plate-glass front window. “She’s got her midwife bag with her. I didn’t think anybody was due right now.”

Mildred cackled. “I had my suspicions when Sherry Butler and that Jessup boy got married so quick like. I bet she had a bun in the oven at the wedding, sure as shootin’. Watch: I’ll bet she turns right at the courthouse.”

Four pairs of eyes watched as LizBeth did just as Mildred predicted.

“Ha! I told y’all so.”

“Well, I think it’s nice of her to offer her midwife skills to folks who don’t have insurance to have their babies in the hospital,” I said.
              “What is it with that family anyway? There’s been a midwife in every generation,” Dixie said. “And every one of the Mitchells were born at home.”

I shrugged. “I guess it’s just one of those family traditions.”

“Humph,” grumped Mildred, then focused her sharp gaze on me. “Say, didn’t I see LizBeth coming out of your house a little while ago?”

Leave it to Mildred to miss nothing that went on in town. “Yeah. She stopped by for a little bit.”

Ginny gasped. Dixie’s eyes went wide. Mildred guffawed so hard they had to pound her on the back. Three pairs of eyes skimmed my body head to foot, lingering on my midsection just a few seconds too long.

“Jeez, y’all. I am not pregnant.”

“Shoot.” Mildred grinned at me. “Now that would have been a darn good piece of gossip!”

I drew myself up to my full five feet five inches. “Y’all know I haven’t been on a date in a year. How would I have gotten pregnant?”

Ginny snickered behind her hand. “Well, darlin’, we don’t know what might go on over at that big old house with you all alone. You could’ve sneaked somebody in late at night.”

I looked around for something to throw at her. A bottle of peroxide would have come in handy right about then. As though divining my thoughts, Ginny scooted behind Dixie.

“I was just kidding! Really.”

With friends like these, who needed enemies? But looking at the contrite faces staring back at me, I couldn’t help but relent. “OK. Fine. I’m over it.”

“So why
did
LizBeth come to your house?” Mildred asked.

I waved a hand at them. “She wants me to do a family history search for her. The works. All the documentation and everything. I might have to go to Virginia for a few days to get copies from ship records, old deeds, things like that. She said she thinks that’s where they landed way back when.”

“Why you?”

My temper started climbing the thermostat. Placing my hands on my hips, I glared at all three of them. “Why
not
me? I’ve been doing genealogy searches for people for years.”

“Simmer down. Who knew they didn’t already have one? Engraved in stone even.”

I backed down a notch or two. “I can’t wait to get on it. There’s got to be some real interesting things in that tree. We know they’ve fought in all the wars, but not who they served under. And we don’t know anything at all about the women.”

“Yes, we do,” Dixie said. “I told you. There’s been a midwife in every generation of that family.”

I stared. “Are you sure?”

“That’s what my mama told me one time. It must be some kind of strange family tradition. Like the oldest son going into the military or inheriting all the family wealth.”

“That seems kind of strange. Maybe I’ll find something that’ll tell us how that tradition started. Maybe way back when some ancestress served as a nurse in the army or something.” I glanced at my watch. “Right now I’ve got to go somewhere.”

“You’re going over there to try and pry some information about the autopsy out of Doc, aren’t you?” Mildred asked.

I refused to meet her eye. “Of course not.”

“Yes, you are. And I say go for it. Jim Hallowell had it bad for your mama way back there. You look a lot like her. Make it work for you, I say.”

“Why, Mildred. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m going to the library. I just want to take a look at the old records to get some dates on LizBeth’s people.”

All three of them scowled at me.

Mildred pointed a bony finger in my face. “You have to promise to tell us whatever Doc passes on to you about that werewolf guy. You’ll never hear the end of it if you hold back on us.”

I tossed my head and left them standing there.

CHAPTER THREE

As I rode my bike across the town square in the direction of the hospital, where the morgue was located in the basement, I noticed Miss Edna had changed the costumes of her garden gnomes. They no longer wore their Halloween finery, and since the next holiday didn’t roll around till Thanksgiving, she must have decided to dress them as characters from
The Wizard of Oz
; at least it looked that way as I rolled toward the house.

Some sort of furry-looking piece encircled one gnome’s pointy head, making it look just a little deformed since the fur stretched across the top of the gnomes pointy hat. Another gnome sported a tin funnel atop his gnome hat, and the third wore a blue-and-white gingham dress with some unfortunate-looking brown yarn braided and wrapped around the edges of its hat to simulate Dorothy’s hair. I shook my head. Someone really ought to have a talk with Miss Edna about dressing up those gnomes in costumes. They looked ridiculous sitting out in the garden wearing those outrageous outfits.

Just as I passed Miss Edna’s gate, the lady in question stepped out onto her porch with an old-fashioned watering can in hand. Catching sight of me riding by, she shouted across the yard. “Lily Gayle Lambert! Just the person I needed to see. Come on up here and have a glass of sweet tea with me. I’ve got something I think you need to report to the sheriff.”