Read Still Life in Brunswick Stew Online
Authors: Larissa Reinhart
Tags: #Mystery, #humor, #cozy, #Humour, #Romance, #cozy mystery, #southern mystery, #humorous mystery, #mystery series
Still Life in Brunswick Stew (8 page)
“Luke, you wanted to speak to some of the cook-off judges,” said Shawna, placing a hand on his bicep. “Let me introduce you to these fine people before I drive them back to the hotel in Line Creek.”
Luke cut his eyes to Shawna and back at me. “All right.”
“Dinner’s at two tomorrow.” I clutched the Raku pot to my chest and spun on my heel, hoping he got a good view of my huff as it walked toward the door.
Todd caught up with me outside. We slid into his Civic and tore out of the parking lot. It took us approximately one hundred and four seconds to reach my house. When Halo’s population shifted away from the old whistle stop center, the town rezoned many of the early twentieth century homes off the square for businesses. A few old families still occupied the original avenues of Loblolly and Magnolia. My Great-Gam’s ninety-year old cottage sat on the tail end of Loblolly, once the outskirts of town. Since we believe in keeping property in the family, the cottage was now my studio and house. Its proximity to Red’s was a bonus.
“I had fun watching you question that kid,” said Todd, sliding out of the Civic to open my door. “Just like old times.”
“It’s not like I used to spend my leisure time beating up teenagers,” I said, then reflected on that statement as we threaded through the junk in my carport. “At least now that I’m not a teenager.”
He hung back, leaning against the wall while I unlocked my kitchen door. I held the door open with my hip and turned to give him a quick goodbye hug.
Todd grasped my shoulder, stopping my hug. “You’re being a good friend to Eloise. I’m sorry about her death.”
“I wish I had been a better friend when she was alive. I should have stood up to her asshole boyfriend more. And I should have hustled on the classical paintings, knowing how important the respect of her professor was to her.” I took a deep breath to keep my eyes from watering. “But thanks, hon. I’ll get this all figured out.”
“I’m sure you will.” Todd released my shoulder to lean in for the hug. He snuck a kiss on my cheek and then hovered at the spot for a long second.
“You’ll do the right thing. But you can’t make everybody happy.” His breath smelled faintly of beer and mint.
I wanted to pull back with a smart-ass comment, but for some reason I didn’t move.
“Although you are good at making people happy,” he continued. His lips were so close they brushed my cheek as he talked.
“How funny,” I mumbled. “Your eyes look more azure than cerulean at this distance.” I closed my lashes to save myself from the blue brilliance.
He turned his face fractionally and his soft lips followed, skimming my cheek to the outer corner of my lips. “You’re like walking sunshine. Usually.”
“Usually?” My bottom lip bumped his.
I wanted to shove him and laugh at the stupid “walking sunshine” line. It was so unlike Todd, my Labrador-like friend who liked everyone to think he was dumb and easygoing.
The door slammed behind me. Todd’s hands were on my waist and in my hair, and I realized Todd must have kicked the door shut. And his lips seemed to be moving over mine while I was still processing the whole “walking sunshine” line.
Just like when he kissed me in Vegas, I thought. Right before he asked me to marry him.
His soft lips kept running over mine, pressing and nibbling until I gave in. My hands were already stroking the firm muscles of his back and running down those broad shoulders to the biceps he liked to show off.
I felt I should blame my mother for this ridiculousness because I was not the type to kiss one man when seeing another. She did hand me that genetic defect at birth. Beautiful men made us stupid. Even stupid for someone as stupid as Todd.
Wait a minute.
He “liked everyone to think he was dumb and easygoing?”
What if Todd was not really dumb? Or easygoing?
No way, I thought. This is Todd. Loyal Todd. Low maintenance Todd, who didn’t want an annulment, but gave in because I was so angry.
And hung around me ever since. Because he’s so dumb.
Or really, really clever. Cody calls him the idiot savant of poker, but isn’t that what helps him win? His poker face?
Almost a better poker face than Luke’s usual unflappable mug.
Luke? Dammit! What in the hell was I doing?
I jerked out of Todd’s arms and tumbled to the ground. Looking around, I realized we had moved into my kitchen, and he was about to lift me onto my counter for easier access to my lips and other parts. I stared at the glazed eyes looking down at me and tried to identify any calculation in their blue depths.
Todd blinked, bent over, and held out his hand. “Sorry, Cherry. Are you okay?”
With my lips pressed firmly shut, I continued to stare and willed my heart to slow down and the rest of my body to cool off. Scuttling backwards, I moved away from the man I thought to be one of my best friends.
Now I wasn’t so sure I knew Todd at all.
“Cherry? I’m really sorry.” His face pinched in confusion, and he rubbed his hands through his hair. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Don’t you?” I grabbed a drawer handle and hauled myself up.
“Old habits are hard to break,” he said shakily. His fingers began strumming the sides of his pants. “You’re looking awfully cute tonight in that get up anyway.”
I glanced down at my black tank top embellished in a sequined silver rose. The pocket lining of my shorts hung below the ragged threads of my cutoffs. Not like I was wearing a slinky dress or something.
“You better go,” I said. “I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s not good. I’m with Luke.”
“I know.” Did a frown just flash across his face or was I imagining things now? “I’m sorry.”
My eyes traveled to his calf where the double cherry slot machine motif had been permanently inscribed. I had never asked him about the tattoo, never even mentioned it. He had it inked after we broke up.
Suddenly my head felt too heavy for my neck.
“Baby,” Todd took a step toward me. “Are you okay?”
I shook my head and pointed at the door. Todd, thankfully, took the hint and left. Then I sank onto a chair and cried. After allowing myself a few minutes of boohooing, I forced myself to walk to the bathroom, splash water on my puffy face, and get ready for bed. I had no model for my Greek paintings, but had lost my gumption to work on it anyway.
I wasn’t myself. I don’t cry over a boy dumb enough to tattoo a symbol for an ex-girlfriend on his person. Why hadn’t I just smacked him or yelled at him or thrown something at him?
Maybe I was more upset about Eloise than I thought. I had better settle these feelings before I did something really stupid.
Not that kissing Todd didn’t top the idiot-of-the-week list.
Waking up alone on a Sunday morning has its benefits. No wrestling over who gets to read the funnies in the paper first. No arguing over whose turn it was to make the coffee and Krispy Kreme run. I had the whole morning to paint. Or sketch. Or embellish my clothes. However, I wasn’t feeling artsy or craftsy. I didn’t even feel hungry. I took my temperature, but it clocked in at ninety-six, so I knew I wasn’t sick.
It’d been a while since I attended a Sunday service. What Halo lacked in drinking establishments we made up in churches, so I had quite a few to choose from. Since my buddy Leah directed the choir at New Order Fellowship, I figured that was as good as anywhere. Grandma Jo always said to look your best at church. I didn’t need her additional guilt lumped in with all the rest of my feelings, so I dressed in a white sundress with large, black polka dots I had trimmed with crimson flower heads. A quick hot glue job of more flowers onto black flip-flops ensured extra pizzazz. I figured God was good with pizzazz at church.
Not that I was attending from feelings of guilt or conflict over Todd’s kiss. I’d been meaning to get to church for quite a while now and just never got around to it. And it was the perfect place to hear about the fallout from Sidewinder, if there was any news to hear in this part of the county.
I found it odd that the very cook-off team who served Eloise her stew had more family disorder than a Jerry Springer rerun. I hoped something would turn up in the autopsy. But that could take weeks. Uncle Will would have to work with a lab in the city. Seeing as we’re lowly Forks County with no reason to rush the results, the lab would get to Eloise after their own backlog. And even lowlier people like the Parkers would wait and wonder if they could have done something to prevent their daughter’s death.
A short time later, the Datsun wobbled into the full parking lot of New Order Fellowship, gratefully halting under the scant shade of a crepe myrtle. One of her hubcaps rolled down a long line of cars to spin under a shiny yellow Mustang convertible. Even without the GAPCH vanity plates and Mardi Gras beads hanging from the rear view, I would have known that Mustang anywhere. Shawna Branson’s college graduation present. I retrieved the hubcap and hurried into church, wondering why Shawna attended morning services in Halo instead of her hometown of Line Creek.
Entering the modern barn-like structure, I stood in the rear and scanned for an extra seat in the packed church. Three rows from the back, the imposing body of Max Avtaikin slouched in a pew. That sight brought me up short. I never took the Bear for a Christian. I scooted up the aisle and shoehorned myself between him and the end of the pew.
His eyelids flickered open at my wriggling. “Artist, what are you doing here?”
“I might ask you the same question,” I whispered.
“You’re an hour late.”
“The way I figure it, God is a better late than never kind of guy.”
“I take it you do not often attend the service,” he replied.
“Are you pointing fingers?”
Behind us, a shushing commenced. I swiveled in my seat and took in a long row of older women pulling stern faces. I mouthed an apology. Turning around, I realized grandmotherly women surrounded Max. Not a surprise at church, but the absence of husbands made me wonder if there had been a collective fishing expedition I hadn’t heard about.
I elbowed him. “What’s with the blue-haired entourage?”
He shrugged and pretended to listen to the sermon.
In the front, Pastor Earlie gave a rousing amen and left his podium. Pride prickled my neck as I watched my buddy Leah rise and lift her arms, bringing the rest of the choir to their feet. Leah’s braided extensions had been wrapped into a twist, leaving her long neck exposed. A body as sultry as her singing voice hid underneath the bulky choir robe, which she and her mother preferred to hide. However, I spied smoking hot heels underneath the robe that would put my decorative flip-flops to shame. I’d have to catch her after the service to hand out compliments.
Among the white robed singers, Miss Wanda, Luke’s mother, swayed and sung praises. What with Luke just graduating from the Academy and his odd hours, we hadn’t spent any time with his parents. Which was fine with me since my last dealings with them had been a fiasco. I hadn’t pushed the subject of Sunday dinners at the Bransons with Luke, but today might be a good day to extend an olive branch. Surprising Luke with a good relationship with his parents might help me make reparations.
Craning my neck, I spied JB, Luke’s stepfather, sitting in the front row with Shawna, his niece. I couldn’t seem to shake her these days. Seems that Max couldn’t either, except for Shawna’s little mixer at Red’s the night before.
I poked Max with my finger and leaned in. “Did you get sick at the festival?”
“Sick at the festival?” He frowned. “Is this an expression?”
“No, I mean literally. Did you take sick from eating at the cook-off? You tried all the stews, right?”
He raised an imperious eyebrow. “I am the Bear, no? It takes more than a sample of bad food to damage this beast.”
“If you say so. My friend died yesterday.” I felt a tremor in my bottom lip and bit down hard. “It may have been bad stew.”
“I am very sorry for your friend, Miss Tucker.” To my surprise, Max picked my hand off my lap and kissed it before laying it gently back in my lap. “My condolences.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, then silently told my eyes to quit their watering.
Another round of shushing commenced. I darted angry looks at the post-menopausal set until I remembered my current venue. Before settling back in my seat, I caught sight of a brunette bouffant perched on a twiggy body who looked a lot like Hunter’s aunt, Belinda.
I nudged Max and pointed. “What’s she doing here? That’s Belinda Gable from Team High Cotton. You probably tasted her stew yesterday, too. I would think she’d have a church in Sidewinder to attend.”
Max peered over the rolled-and-set hairstyles toward the end of the pew where Belinda Gable sat. “She came with the other ladies. I know nothing.”
I folded my arms over my chest carefully as not to squash my flowers. Max knowing nothing meant he knew something. I was ready to toss him a few more questions when Leah finished the gospel set with a crescendoing flourish of the Hallelujah chorus. I clapped.
Max looked at me askance. “Your enthusiasm, although unbridled, is noted.”
“You have to admit, Leah is amazing. You should hear her sing in Sticks.” At the thought of Todd’s band, my voice seized.
“You were saying?”
But Max’s reply was also cut short, this time by the final benediction and a mob of elderly women. They flooded the pew with the powdery scents of lilac and rose, shoving baggies of cookies and foil-wrapped plates at the man.
“Mr. Max, will we see you today?” Using her cane to wedge herself between us, a woman shoved herself into the pew.
I scrambled over the armrest before she crushed my toe with the rubber tipped impaler and almost stepped into a straw shoulder bag someone had left in the aisle. My flip-flop caught on the upright strap. I performed an aerial forward roll and landed flat on my back. My sundress flared out around me, scattering silk flower heads into the aisle. Quickly, I sat up and pushed my dress down. JB, Wanda, and Shawna stood before me. I scampered to my feet and held out a hand.
“Mr. and Mrs. Branson. Sir. Ma’am. Shawna,” I babbled. “So good to see you again.”
JB’s eyebrows dropped, and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his Sunday suit pants. Openmouthed, Wanda gave my outstretched hand a timid shake while Shawna ripped off a hearty snort.
“Good Lord, Cherry,” Shawna said. “If you’re going to flash everyone your panties, you’d think you’d pick a better place to do it.”
I smiled wide, reminding myself that good girlfriends did not get into cat fights at church in front of her boyfriend’s parents. And after last night’s spat and Todd’s kiss, I had some serious girlfriend karma to rework. “Good morning to you, Shawna. What brings you to Halo?”
“If you actually went to this church, you’d know I attend with JB and Aunt Wanda every Sunday.”
“I’m glad to see you didn’t suffer the same symptoms as the rest of the Brunswick Stew cook-off folks,” I said.
She stiffened at the mention of the incident.
I couldn’t help an incidental potshot. “Sorry to hear your hard work was ruined by food poisoning.”
Shawna cocked a leopard-printed hip and folded her arms over her chest. Rings glittered from her fingers, chunky bangles cluttered her wrists, and a heavy necklace settled into her bronzer-dusted cleavage.
I always felt when wearing a strong print, like leopard, you should tone down the accessories. And cleavage. But that’s speaking as a woman without cleavage.
“You wouldn’t know anything about the food poisoning, Cherry?” Shawna’s voice dropped just shy of acidic.
JB shot her an irritated look, probably for continuing the conversation with me.
“Did you hear I was looking into it?” I asked. Word got around fast, but I didn’t think I had advertised my interest into Eloise’s death.
“Why would you look into it?” Shawna spat. “I’m talking about your need to ruin every venture I commence to partake.”
Wanda gasped and fluttered a hand to JB’s arm. Shawna wasn’t helping me improve my image with Luke’s parents.
“Ruin your ventures? What about mine? In the past, you tried to destroy my portrait business by spreading unkind rumors about me. Do you know I’ve barely had a job since...” I stopped myself with a look to JB and Wanda’s shocked faces. They had been one of my last patrons. I had a lot of bad girlfriend damage to overcome. “I had nothing to do with the food poisoning, Shawna. My friend, Eloise, died yesterday.”
“Mercy,” said Wanda. “I am so sorry, Cherry.” She immediately wrapped me into a hug, my bad manners forgiven through the odd bond of death.
I wallowed in her soft arms for a minute then gently disentangled myself. “Thank you, Miss Wanda. I appreciate your concern. You’ll be happy to know Luke has been a great comfort to me during this time.”
“Why would Luke be a comfort to you?” JB said.
“Is there some kind of police investigation into her death or something?” asked Wanda. She patted my arm. “What’s her family’s name, honey? I’ll send over food.”
“The Parkers in Sidewinder,” I said, momentarily confused. “There’s not an investigation into her death. Yet. She had a chronic condition, which might have been exasperated by the bad stew.”
“There’s been no proof the stew was off,” said Shawna. “I made sure the cook-off teams followed proper food storage procedures. You’re trying to make me look bad.”
“I’m stating the facts, Shawna. Eloise had a condition. She ate a bunch of stew. She died.”
Shawna pointed a finger in my face. “You better watch your mouth, Cherry Tucker. The festival committee job is important to me. The cook-off has national exposure, at least in the South. If I hear anyone tampered with those stews, I’ll know who did it.”
“Why would I tamper with the stews?”
“To make me look bad,” she screeched, then checked herself. “Just remember what I can do to you if you plan on using the you-know-what.”
“As usual, I am still confounded by your vague references. You want to spell it out for me?”
“Now, now, Shawna,” said Wanda. “I’m sure if Cherry did anything, it was just a prank, and she didn’t mean any harm. You girls have always been so competitive and sometimes you take it too far. After all, why would she want to poison her friend?”
Shawna grabbed Wanda by the arm and swept her up the aisle. JB stalked behind them with an exasperated glance at me.
“Now what happened?” asked Leah, sauntering up the aisle. She had disrobed and her curvy figure now hid behind a black shift swaddled in an enormous multicolored jacket. Scarlet toenail paint peeked from her open-toed red stilettos.
“I don’t think those shoes match the burqa.” I shook my head. “Never mind. I have new problems.”
“What else is new?” Leah smiled and waved to a few parishioners still wandering up the aisles.
I followed her gaze and noticed Max had slipped away. I had to put that strange encounter on the back burner in my list of odd behaviors of Forks County. But it definitely warranted checking into.
“I just had a chat with the Bransons. I got the feeling they didn’t know I’m dating Luke. And Shawna is ticked at me again. She thinks I tried to give everyone in Sidewinder food poisoning to make her look bad.”
“Maybe you need to talk to Luke,” said Leah. “And I keep telling you to ignore Shawna.”
“That’s like ignoring a python in your bed.”
“True. I’d hate to tangle with her. What else is wrong? You look sad, not irritated.” She studied my face for a minute. “Girl, did you even put on makeup this morning? You’ve created a new definition for white.”
“Eloise Parker died.”
Her dark eyes widened, and she covered her mouth with her hands. “No. I didn’t hear that. I knew she was sick, but I didn’t think it was life-threatening.”
“It wasn’t. And I’m going to find out what happened.”
Leah placed a hand on her hip. “And how are you going to do that?”
“I’m starting with a visit to the bereaved and you’re coming with me.”
“I’d be happy to visit the Parkers.”
“We’re not visiting the Parkers. We’re going to visit Eloise’s boyfriend, Griffin Ward. He was kicked out of the festival after hassling Eloise. I want to find out just what he knows about Eloise’s death.”