Eggs Benedict Arnold (26 page)

Toni shook her head in the affi
rm
at
ive.
“
More than he usually does.
”

“
Oh,
”
said Suzanne.

“
What if Junior
’
s involved with drugs?
”
asked Toni.

“
You mean like drugs missing from the funeral home?
”

“
That,
”
said Toni,
“
or any drugs.
”

Grimacing, Suzanne said,
“
Then I
’
d say he
’
s in big trouble.
”

“
Which means I
’
ve gotta pull his sorry butt out of the
fire,
”
said Toni.
“
Before he ends up like Bo Becker, swing
ing from some lonely, bare tree, with his boot heels dangling five inches above the ground.
”

“
Dear Lord!
”
exclaimed Suzanne. Toni
’
s imagery was just too much.

“
I mean it, Suzanne!
”

“
You want to save Junior from himself?
”
asked Su
zanne.
“
I
’
m not sure you can do that. I
’
m not sure anybody
can do that.
”

“
But I gotta try,
”
said Toni.
“
He told me he
’
s meeting
somebody out at Hoobly
’
s tonight. So here
’
s the thing. Will
you go out there with me? To sort of spy on him?
”

“
Um,
”
said Suzanne. She really didn
’
t want to. Toni threw her a pleading look.
“
There
’
s no book club tonight, so we
’
re both free ...
”
How could Suzanne say no?

Because
the Cackleberry Club opened two hours late today, lunch was slightly abbreviated. Chicken noodle
soup, crab salad, ham au gratin, upside-down French toast
for the breakfast-at-lunch-fans, and devil
’
s food cake for dessert.

Just as Suzanne finished writing their luncheon offerings
on the blackboard, their busboy Joey Ewald came charging
in. He was a skateboarding freak who dressed the part and
was perpetually being reprimanded for hitching rides on the back of cars. In fact, Suzanne had once towed Joey a
couple of miles without even knowing he was hanging on
behind her like a remora. Scared her to death.

“
Hey, momma,
”
was Joey
’
s offbeat greeting today.

“
I
’
m not your momma,
”
said Suzanne.
“
And you
’
re ten minutes late for work.
”

“
Whatever,
”
said Joey. He gave her a wink and a winsome smile and shrugged.

Kids, she thought, what can you do?

“
You guys got busy,
”
said Joey, grabbing a gray plastic
tub, ready to go to work clearing tables.

“
And we
’
re gonna be a whole lot busier for lunch,
”
Suzanne told him.
“
So kindly march yourself in back, wash your hands .. . with antibacterial soap, please ... and slip on an apron.
”

“
Do I get to wear a scarf, too?
”
asked Joey.

Ever since Suzanne had let him pinch-hit as a
wait
person, Joey wanted to wear a head scarf fashioned as a
do-rag.
“
There
’
s a clean bandana of Baxter
’
s you can use,
”
Suzanne told him.
“
But be sure to leave it when you
’
re fin
ished. It
’
s his favorite.
”

“
Cool,
”
said Joey. He ducked in back, then emerged a few minutes later with his apron and a bandana worn pi
rate-style.
“
See?
”
he said, arms extended, striking an exag
gerated pose.
“
All duded up.
”

“
Cool,
”
echoed Suzanne.

“
Is your back bothering you again?
”
asked Toni. Petra seemed like she was more hunched over her griddle than usual.

Petra placed her hand in the small of her back and rubbed.
“
Gotta call the chiropractor.
”

“
Is your guy a back cracker?
”
asked Toni.

“
Yes and no,
”
replied Petra.
“
He uses modified chiropractic, a touch of osteopathy, creative visualization, and good old-fashioned prayer.
”

“
Nothing wrong with prayer,
”
said Toni.

“
But not quite your AMA-sanctioned treatment,
”
said Suzanne.

“
Except it works!
”
exclaimed Petra.

“
I need to run something by you guys,
”
said Suzanne as
she centered blue ceramic bowls on white plates.

“
Uh-oh,
”
said Petra.
“
Something to do with the murders?
”

“
No,
”
said Suzanne,
“
nothing that colorful. It
’
s about me being a model this Friday.
”

“
What!
”
squealed Petra. This little bit of news made her
straighten right up.

“
Haven
’
t you heard?
”
Toni giggled.
“
Our Suzanne has
been asked to strut her stuff, such as it is, on the catwalk.
”

“
More like a quick loop around a garment rack,
”
said Suzanne, a little embarrassed.
“
It
’
s the grand opening of Alchemy. Missy asked me last night. I think they want a middle-aged model so everyone else looks fresh and young.
”

“
They do start
‘
em at an early age,
”
allowed Toni.
“
Kate
Moss was just fifteen when she started working the runways in Paris.
”

“
Where
’
d you read that?
”
asked Petra.

“
The
Inquisitor
”
said Toni.
“
All the hot, hip people are
profiled in there.
”

“
Uh, yeah,
”
said Petra. Then she peered at Suzanne.
“
Are you gonna do it?
‘
Cause I think you should.
”

“
That
’
s what I said, too,
”
said Toni.
“
Suzanne
’
s a natural.
”

“
Sure,
”
agreed Petra.
“
She
’
s got a nice long stride.
”

“
Especially when she
’
s wearing her cowboy boots,
”
said
Toni.
“
She
’
s like,
‘
Hey, I
’
m a lady gunslinger.
’
“

But Suzanne was still anxious.
“
I
’
m just afraid Carmen
’
s only gonna stock the tiny sizes. Two, four, six.
”

“
I
’
m a fourteen,
”
volunteered Petra.
“
And that
’
s on a
good
day.
”

“
What constitutes a good day?
”
asked Toni.

Petra made a sour face.
“
Right after a bout of stomach flu when I
’
m totally dehydrated.
”

“
Oh man,
”
marveled Toni,
“
and I have trouble keeping
weight on.
”

‘
That
’
s so unfair,
”
said Petra.
“
Since you eat like a truck
driver.
”

“
Nerves,
”
explained Toni.
“
I
’
m extremely high-strung.
”
She giggled.
“
Or maybe I
’
m just strung out.
”

“
I don
’
t think I should do it,
”
said Suzanne.
“
Model, I mean.
”

“
I think you
’
d be great,
”
urged Petra.
“
With the right clothes and makeup you
’
ll look just like a supermodel.
”

“
Or she can strap on a pair of wings and look like those babes in the Victoria
’
s Secret show,
”
chortled Toni.

“
I know what Victoria
’
s Secret is,
”
Petra told them in hushed tones.

“
What?
”
asked Suzanne and Toni in unison.

Petra grinned.
“
Nobody over forty can fit in her lingerie!
”

True
to Suzanne
’
s prediction, lunch was crazy busy. She and Toni took orders, delivered them to Petra, and tried their best to cajole customers into settling for apple pie when they ran out of cake.

Just when things were at their busiest, Mayor Mobley
walked in, accompanied by a dark-complected man wear
ing a well-tailored pinstripe suit. But the mayor wasn
’
t there
to eat; rather he ambled from table to table, glad-handing customers and passing out red, white, and blue campaign
buttons with bouncing type that proclaimed
“
Reelect Mob
ley
”
above a photo of his chubby, smirking face.

“
We
’
re a little busy here, Mayor,
”
Toni told him, balanc
ing a tray on one hip and trying to edge by him.