Miz Scarlet and the Bewildered Bridegroom (9 page)

“We’re short a fourth
for one team, now that Florence is gone.” My brother was
disappointed. “Should we call Myrtle and see if she wants to join
us?”

“I already asked,”
Lacey shrugged. “She’s going to the movies tonight with friends.
And Willow’s doing an extra shift at the hospital. We’ll have to
make do with seven.

“I have a date at eight
o’clock,” Jenny piped up, “but I’ll play until
then.”

“If we don’t eliminate
you first, squirt.” Bur did his evil laugh as he shook the cloth
bag filled with wooden Scrabble tiles. “Ha, ha,
ha!”

“Like that will happen!
Think fast!” She poked the bottom of the bag, catching Bur unaware
and making him scramble to keep his grip on it.

“Time to choose up
teams,” Laurel announced. “Bur, grab that pad of
paper.”

Thaddeus tore a sheet
of yellow-lined paper into seven pieces. We each wrote our names on
the tiny slips of paper, folded them, and deposited them into a
bowl on the dining room table. Kenny was in charge of picking four
to form the first team.

“Laurel, Scarlet,
Thaddeus, Lacey -- you’re in the living room,” he announced. “Jen,
Bur -- we’re in the dining room.”

At that moment, the
doorbell rang, sending the dogs scrambling down the hallway in
their mad dash for the door. I stood up, more than a little
surprised. Was I just still jittery from the earlier events of the
day?

“Who could that be at
this time of night?” my mother wondered aloud. “Are we expecting
anyone?”

“Not to my knowledge.
I’ll go see who it is.” I left the guests at the table and headed
down the hall to answer the front door. January was still yapping
up a storm. I shooed her away and took a peek through the
sidelight. Under the overhead glow from the porch lantern stood a
silver-haired stranger. I turned the knob, opened the door, and
greeted him.

“May I help you?” I
smiled, thinking the man was lost and in need of directions. Was he
looking for Karin Frendlind’s party house?

“Hi.” He seemed
hesitant, gazing down at the three pooches with the wagging tails.
In his hands was a New York Yankees cap. “I’m Bob Morelli. I’m
looking for Lacey Googins. Is she here?”

Lacey Googins? For a
moment, I thought I misheard him. Why did he call her by her maiden
name? Who was this mystery man?

“As a matter of fact,
she is.” I stepped back, inviting him inside. “She’s in the dining
room. Please follow me.”

“Maybe I should wait
here.” He seemed apprehensive, his fingers fiddling with his
baseball cap.

“Of course. Have a
seat.” I paused as he eased himself into the chair beside the
console table, wondering if I should leave him on his own. Bob
seemed to have a trustworthy face

She was reaching for a
packet of Splenda when I entered the dining room. “Lacey, you have
a visitor. He’s in the foyer.”

“I do? Who is
it?”

“Bob
Morelli.”

“Bob is here? Right
now?” Her hands automatically went to her hair. She fluffed up her
short curls. Then she licked her lips and seemed to realize she had
no lipstick on. “Oh, tell him I’ll be right there. Where is my
purse? Do I look okay?”

Judging from the
obvious signs that Lacey was flustered, I knew Bob was someone
special. Why he was such a secret? “Would you like me to invite him
to join us?”

“Ah...yes,
please.”

A few moments later, I
returned with the mystery guest. All eyes were on us the moment we
stepped into the room.

“Bob, you changed your
mind!” When Lacey came through the door of the butler’s pantry,
there was a perky smile on her face. I noticed she wore fresh
lipstick that looked suspiciously like Laurel’s favorite shade.
“How wonderful it is to see you!”

“Well, er...my plans
changed and I thought I’d stop by to say hello.”

“I’m so glad you did.
Come and meet everyone. We’re having blueberry pie and coffee.
Scarlet, do you mind?”

Chapter Seven --

Suddenly, Lacey became
the gracious hostess, relegating me to the role of waitress. I
wasn’t the only one taken aback. There were several open-mouthed,
wide-eyed people sitting around that table.

Jenny joined me a
moment later in the kitchen, her curiosity growing. “What is going
on?”

“I’m not sure,” I
admitted to my teenage assistant. “He called her Lacey Googins.
Maybe he’s an old flame from high school.”

“Did they even have
high school back when she was young?”

“Aren’t you hilarious,”
I replied, rolling my eyes. “Would you mind grabbing the ice cream
from the freezer?”

“My pleasure.” She
reached into and retrieved the carton, placed it on the island
countertop, and gave me a quizzical look. “Is that all he’s
getting, Miz Scarlet?”

“No, I’m putting ice
cream on it.”

“I know, but doesn’t he
strike you as a pie guy?”

“A pie
guy?”

“He looks like he
enjoys a big slice, not some skinny little piece.”

“I’ll tell you what.
We’ll also bring the rest of the pie out there, and people can help
themselves to seconds. Will that work for you?”

“It’s not me you should
worry about. Lacey’s hot for this guy, and you don’t want to blow
it for her, do you? She nearly had a conniption fit when you went
to fetch him, until she found out your mother stashes a spare tube
of lipstick in the catch-all drawer in the
kitchen.”

“Ah, that explains it,”
I laughed, shaking my head. I carried in Bob’s plate of
pie
à
la
mode and a mug of steaming coffee, which I placed in front of him.
The Wilkies put their napkins on the table and rose from their
seats, ready to bid us goodnight.

“Thank you so much for
the lovely dinner,” Diana said politely. “It was nice to meet you,
Mr. Worman and Mr. Morelli.”

“And you,” Bob said,
his pie-loaded fork just inches from his hungry
mouth.

Kenny started to rise,
but Dave Wilkie stopped him. “No, no. Don’t get up. Enjoy your
evening.”

As he took his wife’s
arm and escorted her from the dining room, Jenny set the pie plate
down on the table, within convenient reach of Lacey’s
hands.

“More pie!” said
clueless Bur, enthusiastically reaching for it.
“Perfect.”

“Thaddeus, would you
care for another slice?” Laurel asked.

“Just a tiny one,” he
nudged his plate forward, “if there’s enough.”

“Of course there is.
Bur, please do the honors.” There was no misunderstanding the
pecking order at the table as Laurel passed the good doctor’s plate
to my brother.

“At your service, dear
mother.” He made a big deal out of slicing the pie, exaggerating
every movement like some repressed Victorian manservant. Lacey
pointed out that Bur was far more Bertie Wooster than Jeeves and an
informal poll of dinner guests at the table agreed with that
conclusion. By the time the last cut was made, there was a single
narrow wedge remaining, and according to Jenny, it had Bob’s name
written all over it. She made no bones about warning my brother not
to even think of grabbing a third piece.

Another round of
coffee, this time with a dollop of Bailey’s Irish Cream in each
cup, brought us to the end of the meal.

“Now we have another
player for Scrabble,” Laurel announced. “That is, if you’re
interested in joining us, Bob.”

“Oh, I’m not that
good,” he insisted, placing his fork on his plate and pushing his
chair away from the table. “I haven’t played in
years.”

“In that case, you’re
welcome at our table,” said Bur genially.

I caught the look my
mother and her cousin exchanged. This was not how they wanted
things to go. I stepped in to rescue Bob.

“Lacey, why don’t you
and Mr. Morelli play with Laurel and Dr. Van Zandt? That way, Mr.
Worman, Jenny, and I can babysit this guy.”

“That’s not necessary,
sister dear. I am, after all, the smartest man at the Scrabble
table. Mark my words, you shall concede victory to me within the
hour,” Bur informed us with an impish grin. “And then you will have
to acknowledge my superior mind.”

“I don’t think so,”
Jenny declared, pointing at my brother. “Last time we played, you
made up words, Colonel.”

“I
what?”

“Too true, Poup. If
wishes were horses, you’d be riding a champ. Alas, you’re stuck
with Old Bessie and your nag’s stuck in the chute without a
prayer,” I teased. “Hence the need to cheat.”

“Fine, I will play by
the rules and only use real words this time.”

“That means you’ll be
looking up words on your Smartphone. ‘C...a...t...cat. Oh, oh! I’ve
got six points! D...o...g...dog. Hooray! Another five points for
me!’ What happens if you get the letter q?” she wondered. “This
game of ours could take a while.”

“Very funny, squirt,”
Bur retorted, wagging a finger in her direction. “Just for that,
I’m going to whip the smirk right off that perky, little face of
yours!”

“Like that will
happen.”

Lacey rose from her
seat, her enthusiasm returning. “Shall we silver-haired wonders
adjourn to the living room and leave the kiddies to their
game?”

“We shall,” my mother
smiled, backing up her wheelchair as she prepared to exit the
dining room. “Try to keep the noise down to a dull roar, children.
We don’t want the neighbors to complain.”

“Not to mention the
Wilkies in the White Oak Room,” I reminded everyone. “They have an
early morning flight.”

At quarter after eight,
just as we were close to finishing our second game, Jenny’s cell
phone buzzed. “Oh, there’s my date now! He’s in the driveway. I’ve
got to go.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Bur
instructed her. “Who is this young man and what do we know about
him? You can’t expect us to just let you go off with Jack the
Ripper.”

“Bur!” The teenager
groaned, impatient with the unexpected intrusion into her personal
life. “He’s hardly some kind of monster.”

“So you say. But what
do you really know about this young man?”

“Poup, let the kid go,”
I interceded. “She’s an adult.”

“Hold on, Miz Scarlet,”
said Kenny, his hand on my arm. “Bur has a point. If the young man
has honorable intentions towards our little girl, he won’t mind
coming in to meet the family.”

“What?”

“Jenny, why don’t you
invite your boyfriend in to say hello?” he
suggested.

“But....” the teen
started to protest.

“Just in case you go
missing, we’d like to be able to give the cops a decent description
of the suspect,” Kenny smiled pleasantly. “Humor
us.”

“Humor what?” I was
aghast. What were these two up to? Much to my surprise, Jenny
shrugged and headed out to retrieve the new boyfriend. “Are you two
bonkers?”

“Hardly,” said my
divorced brother, father of a grown son. “I want her to know that
we are looking out for her and, if there is anything wrong, she has
two strapping men watching her back.”

“Holy cow!” I sat back
in my seat. “What’s next? A curfew?”

“Not a curfew, Miz
Scarlet. But after the day we’ve had, she certainly needs to be
home at a reasonable hour, so that the security of the inn is not
compromised. Don’t forget the broken pane of glass on the sun
porch,” Kenny reminded me. Suddenly their concerns had more merit.
It was true that Jenny had been worried she was the target of the
intruder. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing for Bur and Kenny to
make a public show of their concern for her. The teenager had grown
up without a father. Was that why she was so willing to fetch the
young man for her adopted family to meet?

“Here he is,” Jenny
announced, strolling in with a skinny, long-haired, six-footer,
wearing a Team USA FIFA World Cup shirt. “Say hi,
Hammerhead.”

“Hi,” nodded the young
man. “What’s up?”

“Hammerhead? What
exactly is that short for?” my brother inquired, giving the boy a
steely-eyed going over.

“Short for?” Jenny
looked to me for help, but I was curious too. How does a teenage
boy get a moniker like that? He seemed to be rather
ordinary-looking. Was he a great swimmer, a beach boy who loved to
surf, or a predator who liked to take advantage of teenage
girls?