Morning Cup of Murder (13 page)

“You’re a lifesaver,” he said. “I slept four hours last night, and the coffee here is horrible.”

She could have argued with him, telling him he was the lifesaver for getting her grandmother to agree to talk with her, but she didn’t. There was a mercenary part of her that thought it might be better to leave him feeling in her debt. Maybe it was her journalistic instincts, but it was always good to have a cop source, and Jason had already made it clear he wouldn’t be providing that service.

Lacy had never felt nervous in her grandmother’s presence before, but she did now. Then again, she had never been rejected by her grandmother, never visited her in jail, never sat opposite her on one side of thick, bullet-proof glass.

If her grandma had shuffled in, looking old and defeated, Lacy would probably have broken down and run crying from the visitation room. But she didn’t. Despite the ugly orange jumpsuit, her step was as spry and lively as ever, and she wore a smile on her face, even if it looked slightly strained and subdued.

“Hello, Lacy,” she said, but Lacy could only read her lips. She pointed to the phone, and her grandmother looked at it in surprise before picking it up. “Just like on television,” she said.

Lacy smiled. “I guess so. How are you doing, Grandma?”

“I’m fine, honey.”

Lacy suppressed a sigh of impatience. How long could she keep up the charade? When would she realize Lacy was an adult, an equal, and not a child who had to be protected from the ugly realities of life?

“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” Lacy suggested.

“There’s nothing to tell,” her grandmother insisted. “I didn’t kill that woman.”

“I know, Grandma, but I need to know why the police think you did. How long have you known Barbara Blake?”

“I don’t know her, really. She was younger than me in school, and we ran in different circles then. She went to our church occasionally, and I always remember thinking she was such a pretty, vivacious girl.”

“Why did you take her a pie?” Lacy asked.

“Well, it just seemed like the neighborly thing to do,” her grandmother replied, which would have been a reasonable answer if her eyes hadn’t shifted slightly to the right so as to avoid contact with Lacy.

“Grandma,” Lacy pressed. “What happened on the day you went to visit her?”

“Nothing, Lacy,” her grandmother said. “I took her the pie. We talked for a few minutes, and then I left.”

“Did you stay to have pie with her?” Lacy asked.

“No, I didn’t,” her grandmother said and once again she was looking Lacy in the eye. “Everything happened exactly as I said. I took her the pie, followed her inside her house to set it on the counter. We talked briefly, and then I left.”

“Did anyone see you leave? Did you go anywhere after her house?”

“I went straight home and began baking again.” Her grandmother perked up. “It takes an hour to bake that cake. You got home at three that day. I remember because I had just taken it out of the oven. That means I put it in at two, and I would have had to start it sometime before that. Maybe you could check the woman’s time of demise against what time the cake went in the oven.”

Lacy smiled, stirring restlessly in her seat. Wouldn’t it be ironic if her favorite cake provided her grandmother with an alibi? “I’ll look into that, Grandma. Is there anything else you can tell me? Did she tell you why she returned to town after such a long absence? What did you talk about with her that day?”

She watched as her grandmother’s eyes slid to the side again. “This and that. I don’t remember everything that was said.”

“Grandma, please. You can’t keep anything from me; this is too important. I’m not a baby anymore. I can help you.”

“It’s all going to be all right, dear. Truth will prevail; the Lord will work things out.”

“Sometimes the Lord needs a little help,” Lacy said.

Her grandmother’s eyes snapped back to her face. “Lacy, don’t talk like that. It’s sacrilegious to presume the Lord needs us for anything. We’re all at His mercy. If this is where He wants me to be right now, then this is where I’ll stay.”

Grandma had no tolerance for Lacy’s more progressive and cynical views on religion, and Lacy had no interest in antagonizing her any further today. “I met the new pastor of your church.”

The older woman perked up and leaned forward. “You did? What’s he like?”

“Young and very sweet. We had dinner last night.”

Lacy realized her mistake as soon as she said it. Her grandmother leaned forward a little more until she was in danger of smashing her face against the glass. “Oh really?” She was using the tone, the one that meant she smelled a potential mate for her granddaughter.

“It wasn’t like that, Grandma.”

“In my day it was always like that. It baffles me how young people today are able to be friends with each other. In my day you either got married, or you didn’t. There was no middle ground.”

“Weren’t you friends with Grandpa before you married him?” Lacy asked.

“No. He asked me out when we were in high school, and that was that. We were married the day after graduation.”

Lacy smiled at her grandmother’s dreamy expression. Life seemed so much simpler then. Her grandmother had fallen in love, gotten married, had a baby, and lived happily ever after until her husband died. And she was still so besotted with him that she had never chosen to remarry.

“Grandma, do you think you’ll ever fall in love and remarry someday?”

Her grandmother laughed, causing a few other inmates to look at her in surprise. “No, sweetheart. Love is for the young; it’s for people like you. Hint, hint.”

Lacy couldn’t help but smile. “Grandma, you’re relentless.”

“I just want to see you happy, Lacy.” Her smile faltered.

“I’ll be happy when you get out of here, and we can put this whole mess behind us.”

“Well, to be honest, that will make me pretty happy too, dear. Now, listen, I don’t want you getting involved in this mess. You can check with the policeman about the cake and the time of death, but that’s it. I know you; don’t go putting your foot in things. Promise?”

“No,” Lacy said. “I’m sorry, Grandma, but I can’t promise not to do everything possible to get you out of this.”

“Lacy,” her grandma began, but Lacy cut her off.

“If the situation were reversed, wouldn’t you do everything possible to help me?”

“Of course I would, but it’s not the same.”

“It is the same,” Lacy said. “You’re my grandma and my best friend. You’ve been there for me the last few months while I was in horrible pain, and you haven’t once told me I have to make up with Riley. Now it’s my turn to be there for you unequivocally.”

“Oh, Lacy.” Her grandmother put her hand over her eyes and cried. “I don’t want you involved in this.”

“I’ll be okay, Grandma.”

“It’s not only that I’m concerned for your safety. I’m afraid of what you might find out.”

The last words were said so softly Lacy had to strain to hear them. “What? What are you talking about? What might I find out?”

“Nothing,” her grandmother said. She wiped her eyes and sat up straight. “I should go now, dear. I’m tired. The good thing about this place is that they let us nap whenever we want.” She tried and failed to find a smile. Instead, she pressed her palm to the glass. “I love you, Lacy. Nothing will ever change that.”

“And nothing will ever change how much I love you, Grandma. Nothing.”

Her grandmother put down the phone and stood, but not before Lacy caught her last two barely discernable words. “We’ll see.”

Lacy waved a halfhearted goodbye to Travis on her way out. The visit with her grandmother had been disconcerting to say the least. For the last few years, Lacy had wanted to be treated like a grownup and an equal where her grandparent was concerned, but now she was regretting that wish. Maybe she wanted to go back to the way it used to be--when her grandmother was almost superhuman in her perfection. Lacy couldn’t think of one bad thing about the woman, and she didn’t want to learn anything now that might mar the status quo.

But she realized she was being childish. Her grandma was human. Of course she had done bad, regrettable things in her life. Lacy should take the view that whatever she uncovered would only lend credence to the wise and wonderful woman she was now. Past mistakes didn’t count if you had worked hard not to repeat them. If, on the off chance she discovered something negative, she vowed not to let it change things between them.

By the time she arrived home she was hungry and exhausted. Her early morning jog had made her hungrier than usual, despite the massive amounts of cake she’d consumed beforehand. And the emotional turmoil of the day had left her tired and drained. Instead of gorging herself on more cake, she ate a couple of tablespoons of peanut butter and an apple and lay down in her bed, Barbara Blake’s journals at her side.

And once again she woke a couple of hours later with the journals still untouched beside her. The clock showed her it was time to get ready for supper and the viewing with Tosh, so she stifled her frustration, rolled out of bed, and dressed in one of her ubiquitous black outfits. After living so long in
New York
, she could probably wear black every day for the next year and never repeat an outfit. Now that she was back in
Middle America
she needed to start incorporating some more color into her wardrobe or people would start to think she was depressed.

Of course, to buy clothes she needed money. And to get money she had to work. And in order to work, she needed time when she wasn’t trying to solve the murder of a woman she had never met.

She was just finishing with her makeup when a knock sounded at the door. Grabbing her heels, she raced down the hall and skidded to a stop at the front door. “You’re early,” she said, flinging the door open with a smile.

“I am?” Jason asked. His uniform made him look larger so that he seemed to fill up the doorway. He scanned her up and down. “You look good in black.” He rested his shoulder against the doorframe and leaned. “How serious are you about that no kissing policy?”

She knew he had only been on duty a little while. His hair was still damp from his shower, and it curled slightly around his ears. His cologne wafted through the open door, making her weak-kneed, and his almost indescribable multi-colored eyes sparked with intensity as he looked her over. Though his words had been teasing, Lacy found herself almost swaying toward him.
I wasn’t serious at all; kiss me,
she wanted to say. Before she could conjure the words, though, a car door slammed. Jason turned to look as Tosh came loping up the sidewalk.

“You two have a date?” Jason muttered.

“We’re going to the viewing.”

Jason turned to look at her with a grimace. “Macabre choice.”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s the presiding pastor. He has to be there.”

He leaned in to whisper hurriedly in her ear. “Don’t tell him about the journals.”

She frowned at him, not understanding the directive. “Too late.”

“Lacy,” he began, but it was all he had time for because suddenly Tosh was standing beside them, smiling.

“You look gorgeous,” Tosh said.

“Thanks, but I wear this every day,” Jason replied.

Tosh turned to him, unsmiling. “Officer Cantor.”

Jason gave him a curt nod. “Pastor Underwood.”

“And I’m Lacy Steele,” Lacy added uncomfortably. “Now that we’ve reestablished our names, we should be going.” Putting her hand on the doorframe for balance, she stepped into her heels, reached behind her for her purse, closed the door and stepped out.

Jason leaned around her and tried the door, sighing in frustration when he found it unlocked. “Lacy,” he intoned.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’ll lock it.” She reached for it, but he shooed her away.

“Just go. I’ll check all the windows and doors. Have fun,” he added sarcastically.

“We will,” Tosh said sincerely. He clasped Lacy’s hand and led her beside him, oblivious to the slamming of the front door. “For someone who’s not dating you, he spends an awful lot of time near you.”

“We’re…friends,” Lacy said, testing the new word as it applied to Jason.

Tosh opened the car door for her without further comment.

“What about you, Tosh,” she said when he opened his door and slid behind the wheel. “Are you dating anyone?”

“You, apparently.” He grinned at her.

Lacy laughed uncomfortably. He was kidding, wasn’t he? Although this was their second night sharing dinner together, and this time felt even more like a date because they were both dressed up.

“Do you want to go back to the diner or somewhere else?” he asked.

“Somewhere else,” she answered automatically. Two nights in a row at the diner was enough to make them regulars, and the topic of intense gossip.

“Is fast food okay?” He glanced at the clock. “I don’t want to be late.”

“Fast food is perfect.”
And anonymous.
Lacy couldn’t help but feel like the walls were closing in on her, especially after her chat with her grandmother this morning. As if reading her mind, Tosh asked her about it.