Down Home and Deadly (23 page)

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Authors: Christine Lynxwiler,Jan Reynolds,Sandy Gaskin

Tags: #Mystery

BOOK: Down Home and Deadly
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“Hey,” I said, giving her my best smile. “How are you?”

“How do you think I am?” she grumbled.

“Upset, I imagine.” I nodded toward the closed blinds behind the frilly curtains. “Would you like me to open the blinds and let some sunshine in?” I took a step toward the window
,
and a tiny white fur ball came alive on the bed. Bared teeth and growling, Fluffy didn’t want me close to her mistress.

I froze
then
took a step back. The dog retreated to its pillow but kept its eyes focused on me.

“No, I don’t need sunshine.” Lisa ignored Fluffy and glared at me. “I just lost a, well, a very good friend. In a brutal way. And now the police think I killed him. I’ll be lucky if I don’t get arrested before I can even attend his funeral tomorrow.” She pinched her lips together. “And I never looked good in orange.” She was probably right
;
apparently pink was more her color. “So, yes, I’m a bit upset. I think that’s understandable.”

“It definitely is understandable. But maybe if you got up and went to the gym, you’d feel better. Sometimes getting that adrenaline pumping—”

She pushed herself up in the bed. “I’m sure you came to interrogate me about something, so why don’t you just get on with it?”

My eyes widened. “I came to check on you. People are worried about you.”

“Like who?”

“Like Debbie.”

I watched her face, but she had no visible reaction to Debbie’s name. So I forged on. “You and Debbie met J.D. at the same time, right?”

“Yes, so?”

“What did Debbie think about him?”

“She thought what every woman who met him thought

that he was hot. And she was right.”

“Do you think she was put out that he chose you instead of her? I mean, y’all met him at the same time, you both thought he was attractive, but he chose you.”

“Well, come on. I mean, I love Debbie and all, but look at her and look at me. Can you see any guy choosing her when I’m available?” She smirked. “No. J.D. was mine for as long as I wanted him. I just had to decide whether I wanted him or if I was going back to Larry.”

She really was totally self-centered. “Speaking of Larry,
” I said. I sort of felt odd calling him Larry. I’d always hear him referred to as Lawrence, but Bob and Lisa both called him Larry, so I decided to follow their example
. “How did he feel about you and J.D.?”

“Poor Larry.” Lisa lost some of her composure. “That’s my biggest fear.” She swiped at a tear. It even looked real. Maybe there was a heart in there somewhere. “He was so jealous. What if he decided to have it out with J.D. and just lost control? I don’t think I could bear to be the wife of a murderer.” She shivered and continued. “Besides
,
if Larry killed J.D., it was partly my fault. He was always possessive. That’s one reason I left him. I just had to have some breathing room.”

“Oh. I thought—” I came to a stop.

“You thought what?” Comprehension washed over her face. “Ooh. Dad told you that story I told him. About how Larry was abusive. Well, I had to say something. Dad adores me. But he expects me to stay married unless I have a good reason not to. So I gave him a good reason.” She shrugged.

I just shook my head. This girl was the queen of situation ethics.

“I’m curious about something.” I hadn’t planned to ask this question, but now that I was here, I had to know.

“What about?”

“Rumor has it that there was a towel under your car seat with J.D.’s blood on it. Do you know how it got there?”

She frowned. “I heard that
,
too, but I had no idea it was there.”

“Wonder how it got there?”

“Well, Sherlock, I suppose it had to be either one of two things. Either J.D. cut himself shaving or something and stuffed the towel under there himself. Or someone planted it.”

I ignored her ‘Sherlock’ dig in favor of getting information. “Which do you think happened?”

She shrugged. “Since someone stole my gun, my guess is the same person planted the towel in my car. I just can’t figure out who would want to hurt me like that.” She reached over and rubbed Fluffy’s head. “Or hurt my precious baby, either.”

“They hurt your dog?” I asked, eyeing the tiny ball of fluff. Other than occasionally baring its teeth, it looked fine to me.

She put her hands over the dog’s ears. “Fluffy’s not just a dog. She’s my baby.” I was wrong. Lisa wasn’t totally self-centered. After all, she had spared a thought for her

baby
.”
“And if I’m upset, she gets upset.”

“I understand.” I had a neurotic cat didn’t I? “Some animals are sensitive to their master’s moods.” And I’m sure if any animal was sensitive
,
it would be Fluffy. And Lisa probably had more moods than most.

“I think I’ll call Dad and have him take Fluffy out to Larry. He’s the only person who loves her as much as I do.”

Just one more errand for poor Bob to do for his princess. On the other hand, this would be a perfect opportunity for me to check out Larry in person. “Or I can run Fluffy out to Larry’s.”

“Oh.” She gave me a measur
ed
look. “I suppose that would work.”

Talk about gratitude. Not that I expected any.

She called Larry and told him I was coming then gave me directions and stressed that Fluffy only travel
ed
in a cage. At least she got out of bed long enough to get all of the dog’s things together. She actually packed a suitcase for the canine.

I lugged the suitcase to my car first then came back for the dog.

“Remind Larry this is only temporary,” she
told
me. “As soon as this mess is behind me, I get her back.”

“I’ll tell him,” I promised.

I was almost to the top of the stairs when Lisa called me back. And to think I’d thought my days of being summoned by her were over when I quit the club. “Yes?” I said. I lugged the small dog carrier back up to her room.

She looked up from her novel as if I were bothering her. “Oh. I wanted to ask you something. I don’t usually listen to rumors, but I heard J.D.’s ex-wife was in town. They say she’s really trashy
.
I
s
that true?”

I stared at her. I was taking her dog to her husband until she could get over her boyfriend’s murder. And she was asking me if someone else was

trashy.

“You’d have to be your own judge of that, Lisa,” I said softly and let myself out the door.

“I’ll see for myself at the funeral tomorrow anyway,” she called haughtily as I walked down the stairs.

Fluffy, in the carrier by my side, barked in reply. But I just kept walking.

 

*****

*****

Chapter Fifteen

 

Better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick

 

 

“How do you talk me into these things?” Carly settled into her seat and buckled in.

“You mean you don’t enjoy going with me to confront possible murderers?”

“Don’t act so surprised,” she drawled. “I told you the first time you dragged me into trying to solve a murder that I’m a big chicken.”

“Well now
that
we know he didn’t abuse Lisa, what do think the chances are that Larry did it?” I asked.

“You said he’s really jealous, so I’m not sure.” She glanced at Fluffy in her carrier in the backseat. “I guess it all depends on how he treats the dog.”

I grinned as I guided the car into the fringes of
Lake
View
’s ritziest neighborhood. “So murderers are mean to animals as a general rule?”

“Probably. You’re the expert on murder, not me.”

I turned into a private drive and drove through the imposing gates and up a long driveway to an even more impressive house.

We sat for a second rubbernecking at the mansion on the hill. “Doesn’t that just make you want to call the butler to bring high tea, dahling?” My English accent was atrocious, flavored as it was by an
Arkansas
drawl.

“Ignore her,” Carly muttered to Fluffy as she got
the
carrier out of the backseat. “She gets goofier when she’s nervous.”

“She’s the one you need to watch out for,” I said to the dog. “She gets clumsy when she’s nervous.”

Carly snickered. “True.”

In spite of our warnings to Fluffy, we made it to the front door without incident. When I pushed the doorbell, loud
,
rich chimes sounded inside.

A middle-aged woman wearing a white blouse tucked neatly in a knee-length black skirt opened the door. We told her our names
,
and she showed us to a spacious room with floor to ceiling bookshelves and a bay window complete with window seat. Fluffy jumped wildly in her carrier, making sharp yelping noises and scrabbling around. Carly handed me the plastic box
,
and I set it on the floor but left the door latched.

“Mr. Hall will be with you in a moment.”
S
he backed out and closed the double doors behind us. It occurred to me that was what they always meant in old books when they said someone withdrew.

“This must be the withdrawing room,” I whispered to Carly. She looked at me as if I’d lost it. “Never mind,” I muttered. Jokes that have to be explained are never funny.

Before we had time to get nosy, the double doors opened again. “Good afternoon.” Lawrence Hall
was a good twenty-five years Lisa’s senior, but his white hair and sharp blue eyes gave him a distinguished man-about-town look. All smiles and gracious host, today he did remind me of Mr. Rourke from
Fantasy
Island
.

“Ah, I see you’ve brought my baby home.” He bent down toward the carrier where Fluffy was making happy squeaky noises. “Thank you.” He opened the carrier and lifted Fluffy out. He was rewarded with a long pink tongue licking him all over the face.

While he was talking baby talk to Fluffy, Carly looked at me and shrugged. I knew she was remembering our conversation in the car about whether murderers were nice to animals.

Larry gave us a sheepish grin. “I’ve missed her.”

I smiled. No kidding. We’d never have guessed.

He sat down in
a
leather recliner with Fluffy on his lap.

“Would you ladies care for some refreshment?” Without waiting for a reply, he rang a bell on the table beside his chair. The
woman
who had shown us in entered with a tray holding three glasses of iced tea and a plate of home
-
baked chocolate chip cookies.

Larry handed us each a glass of tea and held out the plate for us to get a napkin and a cookie.

“Thanks,” we chorused.

“Nice weather for September, isn’t it?” he said just as Carly and I bit into our cookies. I’ve always wondered why people offer someone food then immediately start a conversation.

We nodded.

He cleared his throat and tried again. “The Cardinals look like they might go all the way this year.”

I took a sip of my tea. “If they can keep their offense hitting like they have the last few games, they definitely have a chance.”

Larry’s aristocratic eyebrows rose. “Ah, a fellow baseball fan.”

“She went to
St. Louis
to a game the other night and sat eight rows behind home plate,” Carly said.

Larry looked at me and nodded. “Nice seats
.
 
.
 
.
Sometimes I think we miss the feel of being a part of the crowd in our private box.”

“Daddy always says if you can’t smell the popcorn, you might as well be watching it on TV,” I said without thinking.

And that was the end of the baseball conversation.

Carly and I exchanged a glance. I’d wanted to talk to Larry, but the atmosphere was so stilted that it was hard to ask questions like I usually did. I cleared my throat. “We’d better be going.”

“Wait.” Larry leaned forward and set his glass down. “How’s Lisa?”

“She’s having a pretty hard time.”

“We all reap what we sow, don’t we?” His voice was hard.

I winced. “Yes, I guess we do. But then again, we all make mistakes.” I wasn’t sure Lisa had hit rock bottom yet. And it obviously wouldn’t hurt her to do some serious soul searching, but I still pitied her.

Larry rang the bell
,
and the maid appeared. “Please take Fluffy outside for a walk,” he commanded.

The maid quickly took the little white dog and left the room.

Larry turned back to us and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I offered to hire a lawyer for her, but she said Bob was taking care of it.” A strange expression crossed his face. “Looks like she’s going to need a good one.”

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