Law and Author (8 page)

“That's the thing about Stephanie Plum or actually Janet Evanovich,” Stephanie jumped in. “You can always be sure there's going to be a car bombed or an apartment, usually Stephanie Plum's.”

“Yeah, but that isn't a bad thing. I think even the Agatha Christie books that Molly likes so much get to be same old a lot of the times. Sorry, Molly,” Andie added after a quick look at Molly's face.

“I didn't meant that in a bad way,” Stephanie answered. “In fact, there are other ways these books are sort of like an Agatha Christie book.” She glanced at Molly, whose face had taken on a noncommittal look.

“Right on,” Andie came back with. “You know this thing is going to happen but you wait to see how and what because they all change. They are a lot alike.”

Lizzie sat back to enjoy the discussion. She was impressed that Andie had put so much thought into it. But she wasn't really sure how Molly was taking it all or where it was going.

“In what way?” Molly asked.

“Well, Poirot has his Captain Hastings and Miss Lemon. Stephanie Plum has her pal Lulu and Connie in the bail bondsman's office.” Stephanie sat back, obviously pleased with herself.

Andie chortled and leaned forward on her seat. “Right on. And there's Inspector Japp. Stephanie has Morelli and, of course, Ranger.”

“Oh boy, that Ranger gets my heart to pitty-patting every time I read about him,” Stephanie added, fanning herself with her napkin.

“I understand what you're saying.” Molly's voice was a bit louder than usual. “Of course, Agatha Christie focused on the details of the crime rather than going into so much detail about their private lives.”

Lizzie tried to hide a smile by taking a sip of her tea. This was getting very interesting.

“I might point out,” Molly went on, “that there were bombings in some of Christie's books, too. In
The Big Four
, the murderer set a bomb to go off at the end but then disarmed it when Poirot appealed to his attraction to a young woman. And in
Postern of Fate
, the house of Tuppence was bombed, although that was due to the war. But there are others—
Taken at the Flood, The ABC Murders
. . . .”

The front doorbell rang, interrupting her. Molly looked startled and then quickly said, “I'll get that,” beating Bob to it. He'd just sat back down with two more cheese straws on his plate. He made to get up but Molly put up her hand to stop him. He shrugged and settled back to eat.

In a couple of minutes Molly returned with Darla in tow. “We have a guest at our meeting tonight,” she said, indicating a wing chair next to Bob for Darla to sit in.

Bob searched Molly's face and seeming to find an answer, said, “It's sure good to see you, Darla. I'm happy you decided to join us after all.”

Darla looked startled. “I'm not joining y'all. No way. Just sitting in and visiting tonight.”

Bob looked taken aback but then laughed. “That's what I meant. Now, what have you been up to?”

Molly spoke before Darla could say anything about her afternoon exploits. “I'm glad you could make it, too, Darla. Now, what can I get you to drink? Some sweet tea? There's a fresh pitcher here.”

Darla nodded and also accepted a small plate, choosing a couple of crackers, slicing a sliver of Edam cheese from the serving dish Andie had brought over. Lizzie looked over at Molly, who merely raised an eyebrow.

“You missed the fun part, the part when everyone gives
their opinion about the book and Molly digs her heels in since it's not by Agatha Christie,” Bob said with a chuckle.

Everyone laughed, but Darla looked confused.

“Don't let him tease you, Darla,” Molly said. “We've just finished discussing tonight's book but since I hadn't really expected you'd have time to read it, you didn't really miss anything. We're glad you can join us for some socializing instead.”

Darla looked hesitant. “My boyfriend, Wade Morris, dropped me off while he goes and does something. So as soon as he's finished, he'll be picking me up.”

The doorbell rang as if on cue. When Molly returned from answering it, she had a young man in tow, towering above her at around six-foot-four, with black hair shaved around the bottom and the top standing straight up with the help of some powerful product, Lizzie bet. He wore a black T-shirt and a black leather vest enlivened with colorful reptile artwork, and black straight jeans. The tail of some type of creature tattooed to his right upper arm slithered down toward his elbow. A matching one but in a variety of colors adorned his left arm. When he finally removed his sunglasses, Lizzie noticed the bushy black eyebrows. She also noted he didn't smile, not until he saw Darla. Then he produced a sexy smirk. Lizzie hoped Bob hadn't noticed. It was not a smile for granddads.

Darla jumped out of her chair and rushed to his side. She slipped her arm through his and pulled him over to Bob. “This is my granddaddy.”

Bob stood and stuck out his hand. Eventually Wade did the same. Darla gave him a small nudge and he smiled. She then turned him around to face Molly and did the introductions. Lizzie noticed that this time his smile grew wider at the mention of Molly's name.

Darla didn't bother with individual introductions for the rest of them, eliminating them with a wave of the hand and saying they were the book club.

“Have a seat,” Bob demanded. “There's some awfully good sweets here.”

Darla pulled Wade over to where she'd been sitting and let him take the chair while she perched on the arm. Molly homed in on them with a tray with two glasses of freshly poured tea. They each took one but nobody said a word.

Molly looked at Bob and raised her eyebrows. He cleared his throat and asked, “What brings you to town, Wade?”

He finished chewing and swallowed. “I came to take Darla back home.”

Molly stopped in her tracks as she passed the sweets along to the others. “Surely, not so soon. Bob and Darla are just getting to know each other.”

Darla smiled sweetly at Bob and then focused on Molly. “I know. I am so much enjoying getting to know my granddaddy, and you also, Molly. And I want Wade to get to see some of Ashton Corners and all. But we don't have hardly any money between us to pay for another night in the motel, so we'll get going tomorrow morning. I guess I need to go crawling back to my mama, tail between my legs, and beg her forgiveness. Although I know I'm not at all in the wrong here.”

Bob looked stricken. Molly took one look at his face and spoke up. “Why I think you should both move in here with me. I have plenty of space, as you well know. And I think you could probably put up with an old fussbudget like me.” She directed the last comment at Wade.

Bob looked relieved, although Wade's face hardened. Darla was beaming, but one look at Wade and she quickly deflated. “Oh, that is so sweet of you, Molly, but Wade doesn't believe in making a nuisance of ourselves. We really
do need to stay on our own and not take advantage of your hospitality.” Lizzie thought she'd added that last bit as if remembering lines from a play.

“Well, I'd be happy to pay for your motel for a few more days,” Bob said. “I think it's the least I can do. That will give you time to sightsee and we'll also get to spend a bit more time together.”

Molly looked about to say something but had second thoughts.

Wade jumped on it right away. “We'll take it.” Darla nudged him. “Uh, thanks,” he added. He stood and grabbed her by the arm.

“We've really got to get going now,” Darla said. “Thanks for the food.”

Bob walked them to the door, pulling out his wallet as he did so.

None of the others said anything for a minute after they left the room, and then Andie spoke up. “That guy gives me the creeps.”

Molly shushed her. “Don't let Darla hear you say that. She could come back into the room, you know. I'm glad Bob will have more time with Darla, though. Now shall we get back to talking about books?”

“We should,” Lizzie agreed, “but could we give some collective thought to the real murder first?”

Andie's hand shot up. “Internet search.”

Lizzie chuckled. “Not a surprise. I guess we should try to get more information about the victim, Rafe Shannon, if we want to figure out why he was here in town, and more importantly, here at Molly's house.”

Bob came back into the room and went straight this chair, sat down and crossed his arms. “I'm not so sure I like where this is heading.”

“What? The Internet search?” Lizzie asked.

“What Internet search? No, I mean Darla's leaving with her boyfriend. I haven't had any experience in this granddaddy business, but my gut tells me to do something about it.”

Molly leaned across and touched his arm. “You know what that would lead to, don't you? She's likely to pull away and maybe even leave town. I hate to say it, but you don't know her well enough to be sticking your nose in her life. I know you have good intentions and she'll know it, too, soon enough. But it's still too early on in your relationship. Trust Darla to know what she should be doing. For now, anyway.”

Bob shook his head. “I feel so useless.”

Lizzie jumped in. “Then put your investigative skills to work and let's try figuring out why a corpse was found in Molly's backyard. Remember, there's still a tie-in to Darla, so we need to be helping her, too.”

“All right. That is something I can help with. What do we know about the guy? Has Mark told you anything about him?”

“Just that he's from Atlanta . . .”

“Same as Darla,” Bob interrupted.

“Yes. He's also got a rap sheet.”
That'll get a reaction.

“Rap sheet? You've been watching way too much TV, young lady.” He paused and started laughing. “Okay. He's known to police. For what?”

“He's a tough guy, does dirty work for others, and he also has connections to one of the smaller casinos and some bookies.”

“An enforcer maybe,” Jacob said.

“Yes, Mark did think that. So, why would he come to Ashton Corners?”

“I'll bet it wasn't for a vacation,” Stephanie threw in.

“A meeting with someone?” asked Sally-Jo.

“We know of only one meeting he had and that was with Darla,” Lizzie pointed out.

Both Molly and Bob looked at her sharply. “I'm sorry but that's true. So how do we find out if he also met someone else? That mystery person could be the killer.”

Nobody spoke for a few minutes. Andie nudged Stephanie and pointed at the plate of cheese straws. When she'd chosen one, she munched on it, her eyes cutting from one person to the other. “Maybe my Internet search will turn up some clues.”

“I'll help you with that,” Stephanie chimed in.

Bob nodded. “And I'll start asking around town, try to find out when he arrived and where he stayed. Someone must have seen him. Lizzie, maybe you could sweet talk Mark into telling you if they've found out about any local contacts he might have had, as in the unsavory kind.”

“That's good,” Jacob said. “An old classmate of mine has a criminal practice in Atlanta. I'll give him a call tomorrow and see if he knows anything about Rafe Shannon.”

“Molly, you seem to be the closest to Darla,” Lizzie said. “Maybe if she stops by on her own you could sort of nudge some more information about the encounter out of her.”

Molly sighed. “I don't think she's at the confiding point with me. But if the opportunity arises, I will try my best. Now before y'all wrap up and disappear, I need to tell you the title of next month's book.”

Lizzie ignored the groaning noise Bob made.

“Some of you will be pleased to hear that it's not an Agatha Christie novel this time.”

“Three cheers,” said Bob, clapping.

Molly favored him with an indulgent smile before continuing. “It's
Queen of Hearts
by Rhys Bowen. I'm not going to say anything more about it but I think y'all understand when you read it why it's something I'd suggest.”

“May I just add a loud groan at this point?” Bob asked.

“You mean another one?”

Everyone chuckled. Except Bob.

“Getting back to the investigation,” Sally-Jo broke in, “what can I do to help?”

“I think you've already got a lot on your plate, honey.” Molly smiled at her. “You need all your strength to deal with that mama of yours.”

“Amen,” Jacob muttered, then gave Sally-Jo a quick hug.

Good Lord, now what?

PEARLS AND POISON—
DUFFY BROWN

L
izzie listened to the soprano practice CD in the car on her way to work the next morning. The spring concert was still a month and a half away, but there were three new pieces they'd been practicing since January and one in particular, a full-length mass, was giving her a lot of problems. She'd hoped to ace the soprano line, including words, in the credo of the
Celtic Mass
by the Canadian composer Scott MacMillan for tonight's rehearsal, but she admitted to herself that wasn't the case. She loved the rhythm and found herself “dancing” in the driver's seat but couldn't quite get the Celtic pronunciations right.

She parked her Mazda next to Sally-Jo's Kia and sat singing along softly until the current track ended. As she got out of the car she noticed that the pink azalea bush marking the sidewalk path from the lot to the school had been squashed and tire tracks were gouged out in the lawn surrounding it.
She shook her head, already missing the splash of color the bush added through the seasons. She stopped in at the main office once in the school and spotted the secretary, Diane Kelly, leaning on the counter, talking on the phone.

Diane nodded at Lizzie, so she waited until the conversation ended. “Hey, Diane. Not off to a good start this morning?”

Diane shook her head. “Already there have been three phone calls to the principal from unhappy parents and I just got off the phone with the police. We've had a visit from vandals last night.”

“I saw the azalea. What else has happened?”

“Oh, the usual. Graffiti on the back wall and doors. Nothing that can't be fixed or painted over, but it's all the grass that's been dug up by some idiot racing around the back playing field that really riles me. I just hope it wasn't former students.” She grimaced.

“What can be done?”

“Well, the police will do a few extra overnight patrols around here for the next while, but the little creeps will just wait awhile and then start all over again.”

“We haven't had much of a problem before, have we?”

“Not here. I admit I'm thinking about what happened at my last school. Like to have given the principal a heart attack. Anyway, that's taken care of. Is there anything I can do for you? And I hope it's something good, if there is.”

“No, nothing. I admit to giving in to curiosity about the azalea.”

“You know what they say about curiosity.”

“Hm. You have a good day, Diane.” Lizzie shivered as she wandered down the hall to the library, where she'd be working most of the morning. It was more than curiosity that made her want to call Mark and find out if he was any further with the murder investigation. She hadn't talked to
him all day yesterday, which wasn't unusual during an investigation. That was a good enough reason for a quick call.

She set her books and a couple of student file folders out on the desk and dialed her iPhone, leaving a short message for Mark when he didn't answer. She looked at the file folder on top. This one required a meeting with the teacher. She'd try to set that up over the lunch hour. The second file was something she could work on right away. She started reading and didn't look up until a shadow blocked the sunlight shining through the side window. By the time she looked up, the shadow had vanished and bright sunlight filtered through once again.

She stood and stretched, checking the clock on the wall. At the same moment, the recess bell rang. She went looking for Sally-Jo and found her on playground duty.

“Sally-Jo. How are you feeling today?”

“Frazzled. Still. I expect to be in this state until the day after the wedding.” She crossed her arms and hugged herself. “I used to be so laid-back and happy and . . . and I even looked forward to visiting my parents. Who knew that instead of Bridezilla there would be a Motherzilla-of-the-Bride?”

Lizzie chuckled softly. “Wow. I can't begin to know how stressed you are. You sure there's nothing else I can do for you? Offering moral support seems hardly enough.”

“Believe me, it's great. Even Jacob is getting a bit exasperated. He tried not to show it but I can tell. I try to make the planning fun when it's just the two of us but lately, I end up dissolving fairly quickly. I had to stop talking about it on the way home from Molly's.” She turned to face Lizzie. “What if he decides it's not worth it and calls the whole thing off?”

Lizzie grabbed her arm. “Now, don't go there, Sally-Jo. You know that's not going to happen. Jacob's allowed to get a
bit uptight, too. But that certainly doesn't mean he'll back out. He's an amazing guy. You know that. Trust yourself on this.”

“You're right.” Sally-Jo sighed and burst into a bright smile. “You see, you're doing a lot to help out. Thank you, Lizzie.”

“Glad I could help. Now on a more mundane topic, are you going to the teacher luncheon today?”

“I'd thought about it. I usually enjoy potlucks but we really don't have a lot of time at lunch. Who thought of that anyway?”

Lizzie shrugged. “I think it was Patti. She can be pretty efficient when she wants to be. I'll bet she has us eating and tidied well within the hour.”

“One word. Indigestion. No, I think I'll stick with my little brown bag at my desk and then hotfoot it downtown to check out Norman Jewelers. I know there's plenty of time but a shopping trip might be a fun diversion right now. I was thinking about cuff links for Jacob as a groom's gift. Cool, right?”

She took a look at Lizzie's face.

“All right. Sounds pretty boring, doesn't it?”

“Uh, yeah. Unless they happen to be very creative cuff links.”

“Oh boy, like what?”

“What does he love the best, besides you, of course?”

“Hmmm. Golf.” Sally-Jo was quiet for a minute and then broke out into a wide smile. “You may be onto something. Will you come with me, please? Please? Or do you desperately want indigestion?”

Lizzie laughed. “When you put it that way, I'll come with you.”

“Oh, thank you again, Lizzie. You're a charm.”

The bell rang and both women stepped aside as the children surged toward the double doors. Lizzie sent Sally-Jo
ahead to her classroom while she waited until the last child had reentered the school. As she closed the final door behind her, she sighed, worried about Sally-Jo and wishing she could wave a magic wand to make the ideal wedding just happen.

*   *   *

L
izzie put her iPhone on vibrate and stuck it in her right pant pocket before she went to take her chair at the choir rehearsal. She'd put in another call to Mark and was hoping he'd get back to her, even if it meant she'd have to duck out of the session to take the call. She'd been unable to reach him all day and she needed to ask some questions about Rafe Shannon. It had been bothering her all afternoon at school, and her mind had gone back to the puzzle when she'd been trying to concentrate on drafting a workshop for the next teachers' professional development day. It was not a good thing when murder impinged even on her work life.

She'd had an eventful lunch hour, without thoughts of murder, helping Sally-Jo shop. Although they'd gone back to school empty-handed, Sally-Jo had a short list of possibilities, one of which was a set of sterling silver golf ball cuff links, and she felt a bit more at ease about the wedding plans. Although any talk about her trip back home could send her to the brink. Lizzie had to concentrate to prevent the words “Fort Myers” and “your mama” from escaping her lips.

The choir director, Stanton Giles, looked up from his score and happened to lock eyes with Lizzie. She immediately felt more guilt for bringing outside thoughts to choir, especially those having to do with murder. She silently vowed to give him her total attention and even challenged herself to try singing without using her score. Giles was often asking the members to take a chance and see just how
much they'd memorized by repetition. She'd always worried that she'd flub the singing but tonight she'd give it a try.

After the warm-up and partway through the first movement, Lizzie realized how irrational that was. Not only did she not know the words by heart, she also didn't know the notes as thoroughly as she'd thought. She tried to discreetly open her score and find the right page while the altos were running over, yet again, their line in the credo.

Krista Barlow, standing next to her, gave her a quick jab with her elbow and grinned when Lizzie looked at her. Lizzie tried not to look too sheepish but was grateful when Krista leaned closer and pointed out the bar of their entry.
Right. Concentrate.

At the break, Lizzie decided to have a coffee, something she usually avoided during rehearsals. However, she needed the blast of caffeine to keep her on track. She'd found it far too easy for her mind to drift back to the murder and those two questions: What was Rafe Shannon's connection to Darla, and why was his body found at Molly's?

“Were you trying to show the rest of us up back there?” Krista asked with a smile, suddenly appearing at her side. “Me in particular. You know how I hate memorizing lyrics.”

“Absolutely. You'll notice how I aced that.”

“Well, it was a noble effort, I'm sure. You do look distracted tonight, though. Tough day at work?”

“Not really. Just a lot on my mind.”

“Well that's not so great. You know what I usually do, which of course might not work for you but you never know. I just park it when I come to choir. I tell myself, Krista, you cannot deal with two things at the same time and do a good job. So just put it out of your mind and let your subconscious deal with it. Put your whole being into the singing, which is
good for the soul. And then when you're ready to deal with it, pull it out and you may find there's an answer that comes right out with it.”

Krista sat back with a self-satisfied smile and opened her music.

The second half of the rehearsal went more smoothly for Lizzie. She even managed not to lose her place in the score, all thoughts of murder having been temporarily banished. The minute she turned on her car's ignition, though, she was right back in the middle of her quandary.