Murder Of A Snake In The Grass (18 page)

Skye caught her breath as she turned into her parent’s well-tended lane. Cars completely covered the white pea gravel. May must have invited every aunt, uncle, and cousin within three hundred miles on both sides of the family. There were more people here today than at most wedding receptions.

Oh, no. Skye spotted her mother’s concrete goose lawn ornament, and her hand flew to her mouth. The goose was dressed in a white gown with a veil on top of its head. Since it was usually attired in holiday garb, this couldn’t be a good
sign. Please, God, even May wouldn’t throw a surprise wedding, would she?

Uncle Charlie, her father, and a dozen or so other male relatives were sitting on lawn chairs under the oak, near the back door of the red brick ranch-style house. Jed’s brother, Skye’s Uncle Wiley, was noticeably absent. His youngest son, Kenny, had passed away in August and Wiley wasn’t up to attending parties yet.

Due to the summerlike weather, the trees still had their leaves and the acre of grass remained in putting green condition. Sometimes she wondered whether her dad really did cut the lawn with manicure scissors.

When Jed noticed Skye, he got up and met her by the steps near the back patio. His faded brown eyes twinkled in his tanned, leathery face. His steel gray crew cut didn’t move when he scratched his head. “Your mom’s waiting for you.”

“Why? I’m on time. I’m even early.” Anxiety crawled up Skye’s neck. Her dad didn’t usually move from his chair to greet her.

“She wants to talk to you before everyone gets here.”

“You mean more people are coming?” Skye felt dizzy at the thought of facing even more relatives.

“Never mind that; just get inside and calm that woman down.”

She pointed. “Why does Mom have a wedding dress on the goose?”

Her father wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Who knows? Just go talk to her.”

Skye took a deep breath and pushed open the door. The large celery-colored kitchen was cut in half by a peninsula. Usually stools edged the counter, but today women from age twenty to eighty crowded the room, scuffing the green linoleum through its fresh coat of wax. May held the place of honor at the stove, whipping mashed potatoes with an electric mixer.

The smell of cooking made Skye’s mouth water, but the thought of what her mother might have to say to her made her stomach hurt. The mixed message drew her thoughts back to dinner with her parents when she had been a teenager. On the one hand May would become incredibly upset if Skye didn’t clean her plate and even have seconds. On the other, she constantly nagged Skye about keeping her weight down.

Everyone looked up as Skye entered. The conversation stopped abruptly. It almost felt as if she had walked on stage during a play, and all the women were holding their breath, waiting for their cues.

May didn’t look up from her potatoes. “Where’s Simon?”

“He and Luc are coming separately.”

“Why?” May narrowed her eyes. “Did you do something to upset Simon?”

Skye thought,
Let me count the ways
, but said aloud, “Not that I know of.”

May stared at Skye, and everyone else stood silently.

Finally Grandma Denison spoke. “Sweetie, come give Grandma a hug.” Cora Denison was a big woman, five-foot-ten and solidly built. At eighty-three, she had buried a husband, two children, and a grandson but was not ready to lie down and die herself. She was famous for her dinner rolls and droll sense of humor.

When she had Skye enfolded in her arms, Cora whispered, “I hear you got a couple of studs fighting over you. Go for the youngest one. You might as well have the benefit of a youthful body, since men never mature emotionally anyway.”

Skye was still giggling over her grandmother’s advice when her mother ordered, “Grab an apron from the drawer, and start filling the relish platters.”

“Sure.” Was that all May had to say about the Simon and Luc situation? It almost felt like an anticlimax.

Skye grabbed jars of pickles and beets, plastic bags of
carrots, radishes, and celery sticks, and a can of black olives from the refrigerator. Compartmentalized crystal trays were stacked on the counter, and she set to work. Conversations resumed, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Her feeling of well-being was short-lived, however. The door slammed twice, and Luc and Simon walked into the kitchen glowering at each other. All eyes turned to the two men. The second act had obviously just begun.

Skye wiped her hands on her apron and took each of them by the arm. “Everyone, this is Luc St. Amant, an old friend of mine from New Orleans. You all know Simon Reid.”

The women twittered, and Skye heard snatches of conversations containing the words
jilted
and
fiancé
. She turned to her grandmother and said, “Grandma, I’d like to introduce my friend Luc St. Amant. Luc, this is my paternal grandmother, Cora Denison.”

Luc kissed the older woman’s hand. “Ah, I see where Skye gets her beauty.”

Cora rolled her eyes at Skye and snorted. “And I see where Southern gentlemen get their reputation.”

Simon grinned and kissed Cora on the cheek. “Good one, Mrs. Denison.”

May joined the group standing in the middle of her kitchen. “Simon, Luc, why don’t you two boys join the men outside? Dinner should be ready in a half hour.”

The men turned to leave, but Luc grabbed Skye’s arm and whispered in her ear, “Do you realize your mother just poured a can of Coke over the ham? Has she gone crazy?”

“Don’t worry. The Coke makes the ham juicier. It’ll taste great. Trust me.” The last thing she needed was Luc pulling his “I’m a gourmet” attitude today.

With the men out of the way, the final stages of dinner assembly began. This was serious business, but everyone still took the time to impart some advice to Skye or question her about her love life.

Ginger, one of her twin cousins, started things off as she
and Skye were wrapping the rolls in aluminum foil before heating them up in the oven. “When are you and Simon going to tie the knot?”

“As soon as we get the gag in your mouth,” Skye replied, then smiled sweetly and crushed the piece of foil she had just torn from the cardboard cylinder.

May chose that moment to pop up and tsk, “You girls, we ask you to do one simple thing, and you do it slower than a herd of turtles stampeding through peanut butter.”

Ginger stomped off in a huff, having been insulted by both mother and daughter. Skye closed her eyes and counted to ten, twice.

Tables had been set up in the garage, the only area big enough to accommodate the number of people gathered. A wide shelf stretched alongside one entire wall, and it was there that the food was placed. As head of the house, Jed lined up first, followed by Uncle Charlie, Simon, Luc, and the rest of the men roughly according to age, with oldest first. Next came children under sixteen, and finally the women who had cooked the meal.

Skye had been assigned to pour the iced tea, milk, and coffee. When Charlie paused for his glass, he said, “I been trying to talk to Luc, but there’s no grain in that boy’s silo.”

She patted his hand. “Don’t worry, he’ll be gone soon.”

“And you’ll still be here?”

“I’m sticking around.”

When it was finally her turn to fill a plate, Skye searched for a place to sit. Custom demanded that she sit with the women, not Luc and Simon, and for that she was partially thankful. The only empty seat she could find was beside her cousin Gillian, the other twin.

“Hi, anyone sitting here?” Skye asked, determined to be pleasant.

“Nope, have a seat. Did you get any of that pea salad? It’s yummy. I wonder who made it?” Skye relaxed. Gillian seemed to be in a perky mood.

“No, maybe there’ll be some left later.”

Gillian leaned close once Skye was settled. “I’ve got some great news.”

“Oh?” Skye eyed her warily.

“Yep, I’m going to have a baby.”

“Congratulations. I didn’t know you were planning on more children.”

“Oh, yes, I just haven’t been able to conceive.”

“Well, great.”

Gillian leaned even closer. “You know, you aren’t getting any younger yourself. You should pick one of those guys and get pregnant right away.”

Skye choked on the forkful of baked beans she had just put in her mouth. After a sip of iced tea she said, “Thanks for the advice, but if I want to hear the pitter patter of little feet, I’ll put shoes on my cat, Bingo.”

It was Gillian’s turn to choke. She turned a lovely shade of Smurf blue. Being a good cousin, Skye ran and got a pitcher of water from the beverage table. She refilled her cousin’s glass, then returned the container. Afterwards, she stopped to talk to Vince.

He smirked. “Having a good time?” His long butterscotch-blond hair was tied in a ponytail, and his emerald green eyes matched the polo shirt he was wearing.

She was always astonished at how out-of-place Vince looked in Scumble River, yet he didn’t share her difficulty in fitting in with people. “Peachy keen. I love discussing my personal life with everyone and their dog.”

“Hey, that’s one reason it’s nice to be a guy. You can be thirty-six and single, and nobody notices.”

“That’s so unfair. You should be the one to get married. You’re older, you’ve dated way more, and you own your own business.” Skye punched him in the arm.

“Look, I’m not afraid of commitment. I’m just monogamously challenged.”

“Right.” Skye put a hand on his arm and leaned closer.
“Hey, have you heard anything about Fayanne and the mayor and money?” As a hair stylist, Vince was one of the best sources for town gossip.

“Nothing involving the both of them. There was a rumor that Clapp Auto wasn’t doing so well, but that was a while ago, and nothing seemed to come of it. Why?”

Skye explained why she had asked, and Vince said, “Maybe it has something to do with the bicentennial funding. Clapp, Fayanne, and Charlie make up the financial committee.”

“Charlie wouldn’t let them get away with anything.”

“True, but it only takes two signatures to write a check, not all three.”

“And you know this how?” Skye asked.

“The committee gave me a deposit check for the band to play tonight.”

“Interesting.”

Vince’s comments ran through her head until she joined the women inside the house. Dishes were piled high on the counter by the sink. Skye’s Aunt Minnie, her mother’s sister, had claimed the privilege of washing. The other women fought to grab each piece of crockery as it emerged from the rinse water. No one would notice if Skye slipped out to see how Luc and Simon were faring.

She found Simon sitting by himself looking through a farming magazine and petting her father’s dog, Chocolate. She plopped into the chair next to him and scratched behind the Lab’s ears. “You must be really bored to be reading about tractors.”

“It’s not so bad. The food was great, and it’s been fun to hear your male kinfolk grill old Luc. I’d say he’s nearly well done by now.” Simon took her hand. “How are you doing?”

“Ducky. All stressed out, and there’s no one I can get away with choking.”

“Anything I can do?”

“Yes, grab Luc and get him and yourself out of here. I’ll meet you back at my cottage.”

Simon kissed her cheek. “You got it.”

Skye said good-bye to her dad, Charlie, and the others, then went inside to start making her good-byes to the women.

When she got to her grandmother, Cora said, “One last piece of advice. Not all men are annoying. Some are dead.”

Skye blinked. Grandma had gotten even more outspoken since Grandpa died. Since there was no answer to that statement, at least not one Skye could think of, she kissed Cora and left.

It was with a renewed sense of freedom that Skye got into her car and drove away. She loved her family, but on days like this she was reminded of why she had left Scumble River in the first place.

Both Luc and Simon were sitting in their separate cars waiting for her when she got home. She unlocked the front door, and they followed her inside. Bingo greeted them in the foyer, meowing for his dinner.

After taking care of the cat, she joined the men in the living room and asked, “Luc, do you have the papers?”

“Yes.”

“Great. Your lawyer was able to fax you a new set then?”

He looked sheepish. “Not exactly.”

“Oh?”

Simon stared hard at Luc until he answered. “It turns out they weren’t missing after all. After you left, I looked again, and there they were.”

“I see.” Skye’s voice was cold.

“No, really.” Luc tried to take her hand, but she resisted. “They really were gone when I first looked. Someone took them, then put them back.”

“Why would anyone do that?”

Luc straightened. “It was obviously to harass me. To make me look bad in your eyes.”

Simon sniggered.

“No matter. We have them now. Let’s go over them.” Skye said to Simon, “You don’t have to stick around for this. Even after we finish, I’ll still have to change for the dance.”

Simon hesitated. “I still think you should have a lawyer look at those before you sign them.”

“That would cost hundreds of dollars.”

“I’ll pay.”

“That’s very nice of you, but I’m sure I can read and decide if it’s okay without a lawyer.”

Simon shrugged. They’d been over this before. “Fine, I’ll pick you up at quarter to eight.” He reluctantly headed for the door.

“There’s no need for you to come back.” Luc lounged back on the sofa. “We could just meet you there.”

“He’s going to the dance?” Simon’s voice had hardened.

“No, he’s not.” Skye shot Luc a firm look. “At least not with us.”

“You can’t mean that, darlin’,” Luc appealed. “It would be so rude to leave me home alone.”

“Sorry. Simon and I have had this date planned for months, and the tickets are sold out.”

Simon smiled thinly. “You could probably get a plane back to New Orleans tonight. Then you wouldn’t have to worry about being alone.”

“But …” Luc tried to speak.

Simon interrupted. “After all, Skye will sign the papers this afternoon, and that’s what you came for, isn’t it?”

Luc turned his back on Simon and ignored his question.