Eggs Benedict Arnold (25 page)

“
Thank you, dear,
”
said Nadine.
“
But Julian had been
sick for a very long time. I was
...
we all were . . .
pre
pared,
as they say.
”

“
Still,
”
said Suzanne,
“
these things are never easy.
”

“
I saw a poster down at Kuyper
’
s Drug Store about the
Knit-In at the Cackleberry Club,
”
said Nadine.
“
I thought I might drop by. Give me something to focus on.
”

“
You
’
d be more than welcome,
”
said Suzanne, wishing now that she
’
d gone to Julian Carr
’
s funeral the other morning. It probably would have really meant something to Nadine.

Now Nadine
’
s lower lip trembled slightly, as if the harsh
realization of her husband
’
s death had struck her yet again.

Suzanne put her arms around Nadine and embraced the woman who was at least a head shorter than she was.
“
I know how you feel,
”
she commiserated.

“
I know you do, honey,
”
said Nadine.
“
I know you had a tough time yourself a while back.
”

They held each other for a few more moments, sniffling,
tears hot on their cheeks. Then Suzanne said,
“
I
have kind of a strange question for you.
”

Wiping away tears, Nadine looked up at her.
“
Yes?
”

“
The flowers for your husband
’
s funeral. Do you know ... were they left at the cemetery or brought back to the funeral home?
”

Nadine gazed at her.
“
That
’
s a strange question.
”

“
It has to do with Ozzie
’
s murder,
”
said Suzanne.
“
And... another strange development.
”
She didn
’
t know if Nadine had heard about Bo Becker yet.

Turns out she hadn
’
t. So Suzanne hastily filled her in.

Nadine
’
s eyes widened in horror as Suzanne
’
s story unfolded. She put a chubby hand to her chest as if her heart could barely withstand this terrible news.
“
Awful, just
awful,
”
she murmured.
“
It sounds like someone
’
s targeting
people at the funeral home.
”
Needless to say, Nadine was more than a little stunned.

Suzanne nodded.
“
It sounds strange, but that
’
s what I was thinking, too.
”

“
Why would someone do that?
”
asked Nadine.

“
No idea,
”
said Suzanne.

Nadine peered at Suzanne with a questioning, half-
fearful look.
“
And you
’
re involved in this . .. ?
”
Her voice
trailed off. A reasonable question, for sure.

“
Because I found Ozzie,
”
said Suzanne.
“
And because my friend Missy Langston has come under suspicion.
”

Nadine
’
s mouth opened and closed in surprise.
“
Ah,
”
she finally said.
“
She dated Ozzie.
”

“
That
’
s right,
”
replied Suzanne.
“
And I
’
ve been sort of... investigating a couple of different angles.
”

“
Missy as a suspect?
”
said Nadine in a weary tone of
voice.
“
I
simply don
’
t see it.
”
Then her expression morphed
from sadness to approval.
“
But aren
’
t you a dear,
”
she told
Suzanne.
“
Standing up for one of your friends.
”

“
So ... about the flowers?
”
asked Suzanne.

Nadine shook her head.
“
There were so many details that... well, I have no idea where they ended up.
”

Once
Nadine had finished her business, Suzanne filled out
a request form for a title search.

The young woman at the counter, clad in black T-shirt
and leggings, her eyebrow pierced with a skinny silver bolt,
gazed at Suzanne
’
s request and looked blank.
“
Oh,
”
she said.
“
I
don
’
t know if we can do this.
”

“
It
’
s a fairly straight-ahead record search,
”
Suzanne pointed out.

The young woman, who couldn
’
t have been more than twenty, reached up and twirled a tendril of long dark hair.

“
Yeah, but I
’
m not sure
how
to do this. See, I
’
m only tem
porary. The regular lady is on vacation, so it
’
s gonna be a
couple days.
”

“
There
’
s nothing you could do to expedite things?
”
asked Suzanne.

The young woman shook her head.
“
No, sorry.
”

Chapter fifteen

By
the time Suzanne got back to the Cackleberry Club,
every seat in the house was occupied and a few latecomers
milled about on the front porch.

“
We
’
re getting slammed!
”
cried Petra. Hunched over
the grill, she poked at strips of bacon and links of spicy
sausage, while eggs, pancakes, and French toast sizzled off
to the side. Oversized spatulas were clutched in both her hands.

“
Slammed means making money,
”
quipped Toni, as she arranged little garnishes of fresh mint and sliced strawberries.

“
The more you chase money,
”
said Petra,
“
the harder it is to catch it.
”

“
Nicely put,
”
replied Suzanne.
“
Now tell me what I can
do to help.
”

“
Spread out about a dozen big plates so I can dish up
these orders,
”
said Petra. She glanced over at Toni.
“
You let
Suzanne arrange those garnishes, honey, and go back out and take orders.
”

“
You sure?
”
asked Toni.

“
Oh yeah,
”
said Petra.
“
This is just a warm-up for our big day on Saturday.
”

For the next ten minutes, Suzanne sprinkled powdered sugar and arranged sliced strawberries on French toast,
topped omelets with chopped chives and red onions, and
scooped mounds of fresh sour cream onto plates of Jumpin
’
Jack Spuds. As each breakfast was painstakingly prepared
and plated, Toni ferried it out to waiting customers. Finally,
when all the orders had been filled, when all their custom
ers were munching away contentedly, Suzanne grabbed a
coffeepot and made the rounds. And collected more than a
few appreciative comments on their cooking.

“
I guess we did it, huh?
”
said Toni. She stood behind the
counter, nervously sipping from a mug of coffee, keeping an eye on the front of the house.

Suzanne slid behind the counter to join her.
“
You okay?
”

Toni shook her head.
“
Can
’
t say
’
s I am.
”

“
Still upset about last night?
”
asked Suzanne. Of course she was, thought Suzanne. Because she herself had dreamt
about Bo
’
s dark, swollen face.

Toni took another sip of coffee and pursed her lips.
“
To
tell you the truth, I
’
m scared to death about Junior.
”

“
How so?
”
asked Suzanne.

“
Maybe I
’
m just picking up your vibes,
”
said Toni,
“
but I
’
ve got the worst feeling he might be involved in this
mess.
”
She seemed afraid to meet Suzanne
’
s eyes.
“
You know ... the drugs. Maybe even the murders. Not that
he
’
d actually
kill
somebody, but he could be, you know ...
involved peripherally.
”

“
And you
’
re basing your fears and suspicions on . . . what?
”
asked Suzanne.

Toni made a face.
“
A bunch of things. First, Junior
’
s a dope. Anybody with half a brain can turn his head with a little fast talk. Especially if you promise him money.
”

“
Okay,
”
said Suzanne. No contest there.

“
And I know Junior
’
s been hanging around Hoobly
’
s
roadhouse a lot.
Factor in all those deliveries he
’
s been making...
”

Suzanne decided not to pull any punches. She drew a deep breath and said,
“
Maybe Junior hasn
’
t been making deliveries at all. Maybe he
’
s just seeing another woman. Junior does have a wandering eye. I mean, any piece of
fluff in low-slung jeans is bound to catch his eye.
”

“
You got that right,
”
snorted Toni. She took another sip
of coffee, then turned worried eyes on Suzanne.
“
But this time Junior
’
s up to something more. I mean, he really has been earning extra money.
”

Suzanne hated to ask, but did.
“
A lot of money?
”