Ladies' Circle of Murder (A Lacy Steele Mystery Book 8) (16 page)

 “Don’t eat too much prune cake. You know it goes straight to your hips.” With a final pat on the back, Frannie let her go and walked away.     

Lacy replayed the conversation in her head while she showered. Where had she gone wrong? She had tried to stand up to her mother and make her realize how much her unwarranted criticism hurt. Somehow she never succeeded.

When she was finally finished scrubbing the mud out of her hair, she texted Jason to let him know she was home and they had won the game. He would no doubt be sleeping by now; she was secretly glad she wouldn’t have to fill him in on the night’s escapades.

Her grandmother knocked on the door as she was drying her hair. “Lacy, the prune cake is ready.”

Lacy checked her watch. It was one on the morning, the worst possible time to eat a fattening cake with a butter-caramel icing. “Be right there,” she called.

Her grandmother already had a huge piece of cake waiting for her, along with a glass of milk. Lacy sat down and started to eat. Her grandmother sat and ate, too. For a few minutes, they ate in peaceful silence. Then Lacy spoke. “You know something, Grandma? This has been the best part of my day.”

“Mine, too,” Lucinda agreed. “Can I get you another piece?”

Frannie’s warning echoed in Lacy’s ears.
Don’t eat too much prune cake. You know it goes straight to your hips.
“Absolutely, and make it a big one.”

Lucinda smiled as she stood and retrieved two more pieces of cake.

Chapter 14

In the morning, Lacy felt remorse over her midnight bonanza. Her growling, angry stomach told her that eating two pieces of calorie-laden cake in the middle of a night wasn’t a good idea.

Traitor,
she accused as she pressed her palm to her aching belly and poured herself a cup of coffee. And because she refused to let her mother, or her protesting stomach, rule her life, she ate another piece of cake. Maybe she would throw up. That would show her mother who was boss. She refilled her coffee and fought a wave of nausea.

Len, the editor of the paper, called as she finished eating. “Lacy, I still don’t have your story on my desk. What gives?”

“I’m not sure there is a story,” Lacy said.

“I thought you said the guy was murdered.”

“I don’t know what to think anymore. In the beginning, something felt off, but I’m the only one who thinks so. Now everything is muddled. I can’t tell if I still believe he was killed or I want to believe it to prove a point,” Lacy said.

“Either way, the story is turning cold. I need words on my desk tomorrow or it’s too late,” Len said.

Lacy refrained from reminding him that his cover story from the day before was about the
Farmer’s Almanac
and its designation for the best time to plant perennials. It wasn’t as if the paper was bursting at the seams with copy that pushed her story to the back burner. On the other hand, having a concrete deadline might motivate her to put the story to bed. For better or worse, she needed to end her investigation into Bob Hoskins’ death before the sun went down.

“I’ll get you something tomorrow,” Lacy said.

“See that you do or I’ll have to dock your pay from the nothing I’m already paying you,” Len said.

“Right, Boss,” Lacy said. By the time she hung up with Len, she already had the first stirrings of a headache, and the day had barely begun. When her phone rang next, she couldn’t suppress a groan. It was Marcia.

“Just making sure we’re still on for tonight,” Marcia’s chipper voice rang cheerily over the line, with no mention of the previous evening’s encounter. Lacy was tempted to bring it up.

Hey, remember when you tried to kill me and we rolled around wrestling during the middle of a downpour, like all classy women do at some point in their day?
“We’re still on,” Lacy promised.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do if he hits on you, Lacy, I really don’t,” Marcia said.

Lacy could probably guess. Marcia would be the type of woman who blamed the other woman instead of her cheating husband. If Dan hit on Lacy, it would be she who suffered Marcia’s wrath. Not for the first time she thought her hasty plan was ill-conceived, as were all her plans lately. She needed Jason to come back and be her sounding board, to reel in her wackier schemes. If he were there, she wouldn’t have gotten detained without pants. Probably.

“I am positive he won’t hit on me,” Lacy said with more confidence than she felt. Who knew what Dan wanted? Maybe it was a pattern with them. Maybe she had been sucked into the middle of some kind of sick game they liked to play.
Honey, what do you want to do tonight? Do you want to wrestle in the mud with a member of our dodgeball team and then tomorrow I’ll make a move on her?
Stranger things had happened.

“He’d better not,” Marcia said, her tone cryptic. All too easily, Lacy could imagine her filling a wrestling ring with buckets of Jell-O for their next go round. After a few minutes of stilted small talk, she finally got off the phone only to have it ring again almost immediately.

The next person who called was her sister. “What did you do to Mom?” Riley asked.

“Why, what did she say?”

“She’s been stomping around all morning muttering something about mud wrestling and you and Las Vegas. And when she slammed out the door, she said to tell you she was going to her ‘super secret bad girl place’. I’m not sure I want to know what that means.”

“She’s gardening,” Lacy explained. “And she’s mad because she caught me sneaking in here last night after I fought with Marcia.”

“You sneaked in your own house? And you fought with Marcia? Did she disintegrate in your hands beneath all that makeup?”

“She may look like a beauty contestant, but she’s not afraid to get dirty. Believe me.”

“Why did you fight with Marcia?” Riley asked.

Lacy explained Marcia’s jealousy over Dan’s proposal that they meet to talk after hours.

“What do you think he wants to talk about?”

“I think he might have information about Bob Hoskins. According to Marcia, the two of them were in an insurance fraud racket together until Bob wanted out. They quarreled.”

“Wait, do you mean you think Dan might actually have something to do with Bob’s death?”

“I don’t know what to think anymore. All I know is that I have to hear what Dan has to say, and I promised Marcia I would let her listen in. By the way, I sort of volunteered you to sit with Marcia while I make the call.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be available. I need to continue to sit in my recliner and try to breathe around the eighteen pound human whose feet are lodged in my lungs.”

“Sounds like you have a solid plan for the day, but this won’t be until after the dealership closes tonight.”

“If this guy killed Bob, aren’t you afraid he’s going to do the same to you?” Riley asked.

“You’re my ace in the hole. He’s not going to kill me with his wife and my sister listening in.”

“Unless his wife’s in on it with him and they take us both out.”

Lacy hadn’t considered that. “Maybe this is a bad idea. I don’t want to put you in danger.”

She could practically hear Riley roll her eyes. “I was joking. Who are they, Bonnie and Clyde? There’s a good chance that neither of them had anything to do with the guy’s death. You’re not even sure he was killed. Let’s do the meeting, if for no other reason than to be a distraction to me. I’m so tired of sitting in my chair and watching TV all day I’m about to lose my mind.”

“Fine, but this is the last thing. I have to write my article tomorrow.” They made their arrangements for later and Lacy went to work.

Her assistant presented her with a stack of papers that needed her attention and signature. She was glad for the orderly busywork that kept her mind occupied from everything else. For a few hours, she found peace. Then Suze arrived with a new message in hand.

“Your mother called. She said to tell you she’s at a store that’s having a sale on pants and she wondered if you need some since you have trouble keeping track of yours. She also said she could pick up a bikini for your new career, but the store is fresh out of mud.” Suze looked up from the paper she had been reading. “What new career?”

“The one I’m going to start when I run away from home and change my identity,” Lacy said.

“Can I come?” Suze asked, and she was serious.

“Can you excuse me for a minute? I need some air,” Lacy said, but she didn’t go outside. Instead she went upstairs to the loft space, the one that contained the remnants of Barbara Blake’s designer clothes. Lacy sat in the mostly empty space and stared at the clothes. They were beautiful, and the one thing that linked her to her biological grandmother. And her mother had no idea. How many of Frannie’s issues stemmed from the adoption she didn’t know about? Was it possible that she had always somehow known something was being kept from her? When Lacy was little, she used to wonder if she was adopted because she hadn’t fit in with her mom and Riley. If not for sharing so many of her mother’s physical features, she would be suspicious now. Had Frannie thought the same thing about herself and her mother? Had she wondered why she didn’t have Lucinda’s sweet temperament and saintly patience? And she didn’t have the reassurance of looking like Lucinda.

More and more often, Lacy found herself thinking about the adoption and the elephant in the room it had become. The weight of secrecy pressed on her and stayed her tongue when she wanted to lash out against her mother. How could she be mad at her mom when everyone knew the secret of her birth but her? Maybe it was time to tell her and end all the secrecy. Maybe if everything was out in the open, then healing could begin. Lacy didn’t want to spend the rest of her life fighting with her mother. She didn’t want to end up like Celia, middle-aged and still feuding with the woman who gave her life.

She might have stayed much longer, contemplating life and its intricacies, if not for a scuffling noise to her right. Her gaze slid in that direction in time to see a giant rat slink out from behind a rafter. She didn’t stick around to see where it went. She fled down the stairs and back to her office.

“What? What is it?” Suze asked.

“A rat, a huge, giant rat,” Lacy said, panting.

“If I get one more, I’ll have enough to make slippers,” Suze said. She grabbed an oversized flashlight from her drawer and sprinted away.

Lacy didn’t want to know exactly what she meant by that. It was best not to delve too closely into Suze’s mind or extracurricular activities. When she didn’t return for the rest of the day, Lacy didn’t know if that meant she had succeeded or not. She supposed it depended on one’s definition of success.

The remainder of the afternoon sped by, and then it was time for her meeting with Dan at his car dealership. Riley called to say that Marcia had arrived and they were ready. Lacy reminded her to tell Marcia that they were to stay silent. The plan would be ruined if screams started to erupt from Lacy’s supposedly silent phone.

“I’ll do my best,” Riley promised.

Lacy didn’t hang up. Instead she turned down the volume on her phone and stuffed it into her pocket.

The dealership was more deserted than Lacy would have imagined. Dan’s employees must have cleared out in record time. There were no leering salesmen looking for a commission, and no secretary to remind her of her busy boss’s importance. Lacy let herself into the outer office and knocked on Dan’s door.

“Come in,” he called. Did he sound strained, or was it her imagination?

She pushed open the door. Unlike last time, his office was dimly lit. At first she didn’t see him, but then she realized he was standing in the corner lifting a large weight. He didn’t stop when he saw her, at least not at first. After several more repetitions, he set it back in its tray and used a hand towel to wipe sweat from his brow.

“Sorry, I have to grab moments to exercise whenever I can find them. I’m very busy,” he said.

“That’s the rumor I’ve heard about you,” she said. He wasn’t wearing a suit as he had been the last time she visited the showroom. Now he was dressed as if for dodgeball in shorts and a tightly fitting t-shirt.

As he eased toward her, she realized how well muscled he was. He was as fit as Jason, or maybe a bit more. Busy as he was, he must have stolen quite a few moments for physical fitness. Lacy also realized how small, how powerless she was next to him. If he meant to harm her, she was toast. She shifted uncomfortably on the leather settee. It squeaked loudly and she remembered the phone in her pocket. What must that noise have sounded like? She cleared her throat and dived in.

“You wanted to see me about something?” she prompted.

He came to a standstill a couple of feet away from her, blinking as if her reminder had thrown him. “Yes, something important,” he said slowly. He reached for a sports drink and took a long swig.

Lacy wasn’t sure how to move the conversation along faster. He seemed to be having trouble getting to the point.

“This is hard for me,” he said.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked.

“Maybe. It’s not something I’ve done before, or something I’m used to. Have you ever stepped outside of your comfort zone?”

“Uh, I’m not sure what you mean,” Lacy said. What was he talking about?

“Have you ever done something because you felt like you had to, even though it wasn’t something that came naturally to you?” he said.

“I’ve dieted before,” she said.

“No, I mean something bigger than that. Something that figured into the grand scheme of life,” he said. He picked up the sports drink and chugged.

“No,” Lacy said, but it came out sounding like a question. His prevarication was making her cagey. Why couldn’t he spit it out? She glanced pointedly at her watch. “I’m going to need to go soon.”

He smiled. “Big plans? Lots of people waiting on you?”

“Yes, something like that,” she said. He didn’t need to know her big plans included picking up a pizza and eating it in her bedroom while watching Netflix.

“I guess there’s no easy way to do this. I’m just going to have to do it.” He set the sports drink on his desk and took a step closer, straightening to his full height. Lacy pressed her back into the couch, leaning away from him. Why hadn’t she brought pepper spray? How long would it take Riley to get help if she screamed? Could she use his dumbbell as a weapon? She glanced at it, measuring the distance. So intent was she on figuring out a plan to escape him that she almost missed his words when he spoke.