Still Life in Brunswick Stew (25 page)

That evening, Todd found me in my studio living room sketching scenes of mythological creatures with the heads of my friends and family. I’ll admit, not my brightest artistic endeavor, but desperation had driven me to ridiculousness.

I still felt my portraits of famous Greek statue poses would gain me good feedback. I could rock a life drawing, and covering the model with tiny Greek letters? Edgy enough for the art crowd. But I still needed a model. And I felt desperate enough to search out the guy that liked to flash the audience at the Halo high school football games.

I was pretty sure he’d enjoy the exposure even covered in body paint.

“Why is Cody part goat?” asked Todd upon examining the sketches. “And why does Casey have drapery? If anyone should have a bare chest in this scene, it should be Casey.”

At my look, he backed off the statement and ran to his car to retrieve the other boxes. I turned to the carton he had deposited on my paint-speckled hardwoods, peeled back the lid, and grimaced. Trash filled the cardboard container. Smelly trash.

It appeared Todd had boxed up everything from our festival booth including a half-drunk Genuine Juice bottle and a half-dozen empty Brunswick Stew cups. The Genuine Juice sludge looked moldy and the Brunswick Stew cups had a layer of grease that turned my stomach. However, as someone who had grown up around a county sheriff, I knew this disgusting box held valuable evidence.

I snatched my phone from my roll-top desk and dialed a number I had put off calling.

“Hey,” said Luke’s smooth baritone, “if you’re looking for phone sex, I’ll have to call you later.”

“Never mind that.” I bent over the box. “But if you’re busy, I’ll just call Uncle Will about the important evidence I have just collected. I thought I’d let you have a shot at looking important by hauling in this box of goods related to the death of Eloise Parker that now sits in my living room, but sounds like—”

“What are you talking about?”

“Todd just dropped off the stuff he boxed up from our festival booth. I had forgotten he had it.”

“Todd?”

“Remember he helped me out when I went to the hospital with Eloise? He even boxed up the garbage, which I am looking at right now.” I jerked my head up as Todd banged through my screen door with another load of cartons. “And that trash includes Eloise’s leftovers from the festival. Including an empty Genuine Juice bottle. Thought y’all could use that.”

“Hey, baby,” Todd strode to the center of the room. “I’ve got one more box in the car. Where do you want these?”

I pointed and turned my attention to the phone.

“Todd’s still there?” said Luke.

“I actually need to talk to him about some work he’s doing for Mr. Max. That’s something else you need to check into. There might be bingo fleecing and hot poker games going on at the Bear’s lair.”

“I’ll mention it to Sheriff Thompson. Listen, I’m a little busy now. I’ll grab that box later.”

“Busy doing what? I thought your job came first. I have potentially given you the evidence that can close the case on your main suspect. A suspect brought into the light by me. Funny how when I need you to do something, your job comes first. Now I’m helping you with your job, and I just got bumped to third place.”

“Now, sugar...”

I hopped up from my stoop and stalked into my kitchen. “Did you know whenever you begin a sentence with ‘Now, sugar’ I immediately get suspicious? What are you doing that’s more important than confiscating evidence, Deputy Harper?”

He paused long enough for me to hear laughter in the background.

“Where are you?” I asked.

“Home. Mom’s house.”

“What’s going on? It sounds like a party.” I could hear someone questioning his etiquette for taking a call. “Was that Shawna? Are your parents having a family get-together?”

The background noise faded as a door slammed.

“Yes. It’s JB’s birthday,” he said. “Believe me, I’d rather not be here. The house is crawling with Bransons. It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh.” I snapped my voice from hurt to annoyance. “I guess that’s why Shawna is there and not me? Because it’s just family?”

“Sure.” His voice betrayed his discomfort.

“Luke. Have you told your parents we’re dating? Because I saw them in church and got the distinct impression they had no idea.”

“Sugar, it’s complicated. Let’s not get into this on the phone.”

“I’m putting the box of evidence in my car port. You can pick it up when you like.” I hung up and turned around.

Todd leaned in the kitchen archway, his arms crossed. At my turn, he straightened and raised his brows. I caught the quick switch in his expression. He had looked contemplative. Which is odd, because Todd didn’t spend much time with thoughts.

“You okay, baby? You sounded a little ticked.”

“I’m fine.” I brushed past him into the front room and surveyed the other boxes. “Thanks for bringing these. Even the garbage. You probably didn’t realize this, but the trash could be important evidence proving Griffin poisoned Eloise.”

“No way.” Todd followed me into the living room and collapsed onto my ancient divan. “That’s pretty cool. I thought about tossing out that box, but it’s been sitting in my car and I hadn’t gotten around to it yet. It was starting to smell bad, though.”

Although the men in my life had been replaced by aliens, since they sure acted like they had been subjected to anal probing, I sought out my blessings the morning of Eloise’s visitation. For example, waking alone is preferable when you’ve pulled an all-nighter trying for brilliant creativity. And coming up with diddlysquat.

As you can probably guess, I woke grouchy as hell.

But dressing in my most conservative midnight blue sundress embroidered with tiny yellow sunflowers kept my perspective in check. Eloise would never have another argument with her boyfriend. She would never have a falling-out with a sort-of ex-husband (emphasis on the sort-of). And Eloise would never feel the stomach-squeezing pressure of important deadlines. God bless her, Eloise was in a better place, and I was going to miss her.

I put aside my own troubles for the poor people wiped out by the blight of Griffin’s stupidity. After Eloise’s services, I needed to do things proper. Visit Hunter and Miss Marion and express my condolences to that crazy-ass family as well as Eloise’s.

After a day off from driving, the Datsun acted perkier, and I enjoyed the ride down to Sidewinder. Thunderclouds built up on the horizon and the air felt blessedly cooler. With the windows rolled down, the damp smell of hay and pine blew through the cab. I pulled into the First Baptist parking lot, spotted a sheriff’s cruiser, and sought Luke out in the crowded vestibule of the church. He wore his deputy uniform, minus the walkie.

“Hey,” he said, his eyes a somber pewter.

“Hey yourself. I wasn’t sure you’d be here. I would have brought the evidence box to you.”

“I actually picked it up last night. Everything’s at the lab now.” He shrugged off my look. “I grabbed it from your car port. Saw you through your front window at your easel. You looked like you were concentrating. Didn’t want to interrupt you.”

I scowled. “Wouldn’t have made a difference. I still have nothing for that show. Are you sure you won’t model for me? I really need a male model. With six-pack abs on the outside, not the inside.”

“No way. Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out. You always do.” He dropped his hand to the back of my neck. “You’re looking real pretty in that dress. It’s nice to see you in something normal-looking.”

I punched him in the arm, but we were good. With a deep breath, I took Luke’s hand, and we walked into the church.

An hour later, we walked out. Actually, I limped out on a broken flip-flop while holding my dress in place. Dark clouds rolled in, hovering over Sidewinder. The air had wrapped my hair in a warm towel of humidity and squeezed out all the smoothness. Wisps flew around my head like corn silk but I couldn’t calm it with torn spaghetti straps.

Luke stalked me with hands shoved in his uniform pockets and a cross-section of lines burrowing across his brow.

I reached my Datsun, turned around to face him, and threw my hands in the air. Then slapped them back on my chest to hold my dress in place.

“Thanks for defending me in there,” I said.

“You didn’t look like you needed any help. Besides I didn’t want to get caught in the cross-fire at a viewing.” His last words drew from his lips in a hiss.

“Then why didn’t you haul Shawna out of there? She’s the one who started it.”

“Shawna is not my responsibility. If she wants to make an ass of herself, that’s her business.”

“She attacked me, and I made an ass of myself?”

“You rose to her bait. She was waiting for you to make a crack about her attempts at bringing culture to Forks County. And, by the way, there is nothing wrong with encouraging culture in this country backwater. I would think you’d want to help her. It’d do good for your art business.”

“The day I help Shawna Branson is the day my body is lowered in the ground.” My remark brought us both up short, considering we had just attended a visitation. “She didn’t have to take a swing at me.”

“No, she didn’t. And you didn’t have to kick her.”

“Considering I had to hold my dress in place because she tore it, I had no choice but kick her. And I broke my flip-flop. There is no point to kicking and climbing walls if you’re going to wear flip-flops. I need to get my boots back out, no matter how sweaty my feet get.”

Luke gave me one of those looks of extreme agitation. I was glad he didn’t ask about the climbing walls remark.

“Maybe I let it go too far, but I got the worst of it. My dress and sandals are ruined. You let her attack me,” I accused. “And I think it’s because your parents were standing by.”

Thunder rolled overhead, but lightening flashed in Luke’s eyes.

“You’re embarrassed to be dating me,” I continued. “What happened? Did you drink the Branson Kool-Aid? Think you’re better than the Tuckers, too?”

“That’s Shawna’s bullshit handed down to her by her mother and the rest of the Bransons.”

“Well, it’s mighty peculiar that you seem to show up at my Grandpa’s farm for Sunday dinners, but I’ve never set foot inside the Big House of Branson.”