Still Life in Brunswick Stew (18 page)

Casey flounced on the couch, knocking the magazine to the floor. “Amy, Amy, Amy. I’m about sick to death of Amy and I’ve never met her.”

“God Almighty, Casey. Would you grow up already?” However, if Casey and Cody were kicked out, that meant they might move in with me. I internalized my shudder.

“You’re one to talk. What are you wearing anyway? You lost a button on your flip-flop, too. Looks uneven.”

“I’m wearing this in support of Eloise and her love of Uga the dog. She was proud of her Georgia Bulldogs.”

Casey frowned. “Sorry. I forgot about Eloise. Did Uncle Will figure out what happened yet?”

“No. Mr. Parker is beside himself. He’s not getting any answers, so I thought I’d help him out.”

“Just how are you doing that?”

“Asking around. I know a handful of people who got sick and a handful of people who didn’t. I’m trying to see if it was the stew or Griffin’s Genuine Juice which had arsenic in it.” I tapped my head. “Deductive reasoning. Can’t be that hard.”

Casey squinted at me. “You think the police can’t come up with that? What does Deputy Lover Boy think about you questioning folks?”

I chewed a nail and inspected the damage. “I am not going to tell him. He’s not thrilled with me interfering in what he believes is police business.”

I looked up. Casey had folded her arms, giving me her big sister stare down.

“Casey, you gotta understand. The Parkers don’t have much except for their girls. Eloise was the only one in the history of their family who went to college, and although they don’t know much about art, they know how talented she is. Was. And they were so proud she came back to Sidewinder to teach, when she really could have gone anywhere. It caused them so much pain to see her disease hurt and whittle her away to nothing. And then to lose her like this?”

“You know we’re proud of you, too, for going to college and for your painting. We appreciate you coming back to Halo when you could’ve stayed in Savannah or moved to Atlanta or somewhere.”

I rolled my eyes. “This isn’t about me. This is about Eloise getting her life snuffed out early. It’s not like her disease would have taken her. The Parkers want justice.”

“Okay, there are no similarities between you and Eloise. This is about your need to right a wrong.”

“Stop trying to make this about me. There is a chance that this poisoning was not an accident. Nor some psycho who wanted to see a bunch of people toss cookies at a festival and get his name in the paper.”

“Eew.” Casey curled her lip. “Thanks for that image. You think someone murdered Eloise?”

“Her musclehead boyfriend, Griffin Ward, thought he could cure her with his health drinks and it wasn’t working. He was also a jealous sonofabitch who threatened to beat the tar out of me for interfering.”

“Why would he kill her?”

“Maybe he didn’t mean to kill her. Maybe he was just trying to make her feel sick so she would try his remedy in desperation.”

“Wow. You came up with that on your own?”

With a grin, I blew on my fist and polished it on my button endowed tank top.

“So then how did everyone else get sick?”

“Dangit, Casey. It’s one theory. I do have a few other thoughts I’m rolling around. I need to do a little more investigating before you start punching holes in all my notions.”

Casey smirked. “What other bright ideas do you have?”

“I’m supposed to talk to this kid named Hunter Adams tonight. He has his own theory that his mom’s boyfriend poisoned their stew and himself.”

“That theory’s even dumber than yours.”

“I need to check it out anyway. The kid’s got anger issues. You want to go with me to Sidewinder? I’m supposed to take Todd, but...”

“I’ve got to work at Red’s tonight. We’ve been pretty busy. Tuesday is Ladies Night and last week a horde of grandmas descended on the County Line demanding Lambrusco wine and fried cheese sticks.”

“That’s odd.”

“Tell me about it. And they’re terrible tippers.”

“About Todd...”

Before I could get Casey’s advice on my Todd dilemma, my phone rang. I yanked it from my pocket and turned my back.

“Cherry, it’s Dot from the Halo Herald. I was calling to see if you’ve learned anything else.”

I scuttled toward the hallway leading off the living room. “Hey, Dot. I couldn’t get anything from Sheriff Will, but the Parkers are upset. Because Eloise had that stomach condition, the officials aren’t paying much attention to her death. The police are acting like someone pulled a prank or it was accidental.”

“Poor things,” said Dot. “When’s the funeral?”

“Viewing is Thursday and funeral on Friday. In Sidewinder. I did talk to Marion Maynard at the hospital. And Hunter Adams. I tried to talk to the Gables, but that didn’t work out so well.”

“Did you now?” Dot’s voice grew in excitement. “What did Marion and Hunter say?”

“Miss Marion thinks her neighbors, the Gables of High Cotton Farm, might have put something in her Brunswick Stew. I also saw Belinda Gable tagging after Max Avtaikin at church.”

“Probably a bingo fan.”

“She seems a tad young compared to the rest of his entourage. Anyway, Hunter is the son of Janine Adams who works for the Maynards. He thinks Lewis poisoned it himself. I’m going to talk to Hunter tonight. Hunter has sour grapes about Lewis’s relationship with his mom. It wouldn’t surprise me if Hunter did something to that stew, although I doubt he tried to kill anyone. Probably tossed something in it to make it taste bad and accidentally poisoned it.”

“Interesting. Let me know what you learn from Hunter.”

“I will. There’s one more possibility and it has nothing to do with the cook-off.”

“What?”

“I told you Eloise had a lowlife boyfriend who threatened her. Griffin Ward. He’s a health food nut and makes a veggie drink called Griffin’s Genuine Juice. He thought he created some kind of elixir that would cure Eloise of Crohn’s Disease. He passed out Genuine Juice at the festival and many of the people who ate the stew also drank his smoothie. Until the police know for sure where the arsenic came from, I’m still finding Griffin suspect.”

“Hmmm.” Dot seemed to drift off, but I wanted quid pro quo.

“What did you learn? Do they know what had the arsenic in it? I need something to tell Mr. Parker.”

“No, they haven’t found the source of the arsenic yet. However, I do have news, which was why I called you.”

“What is it?” I spun around. Casey hung over the back of the couch, watching me.

“It’s Lewis Maynard,” said Dot. “He died. Arsenic poisoning.”

“Holy sh—” I broke off one of my favorite expletives as Pearl walked into the living room, one hand on her hip and the other pointing a wooden spoon at my face.

“Hello?” asked Dot. “Did you hear me say Lewis Maynard is dead?”

“I’m on the phone, Miss Pearl.” I turned my back on the spoon and stepped deeper into the hallway. “I heard you, Dot. Give me the details.”

A hand snatched my phone and a spoon rapped the side of my head.

“Ow!” I yelled, rubbing my head. “Cut it out.”

“It’s time y’all started learning some manners,” said Pearl, brandishing the wooden spoon.

“From somebody who lets goats run loose in the yard? Give me my phone.”

She slapped it into my palm. “You better eat. And don’t try that texting stuff.”

“I can’t afford texting.” Pearl’s antics had ended my phone connection. Realizing I would have to learn more about Lewis’s suspicious death later, I stalked into the sunny kitchen and plopped into a rattan chair at the kitchen table. Before me set a plate laden with the bounty of Pearl’s talents. I inhaled the southern goodness and took a tentative bite. She placed a glass of tea on the table.

“Casey, come in here will you?” I still needed her advice on the whole Todd predicament. She probably had a colorful opinion about Speedos that’d be worth hearing anyway.

Pearl took my holler as an invitation for a lunch chat and eased into a chair across from me. She placed a glass of tea before her and crossed her legs. I looked up with a questioning glance, which she ignored.

Casey plodded in and threw herself into the chair next to me. She pursed her lips and narrowed her brown eyes at Pearl.

“Just a minute.” I held my hand up to stem the flow of Casey’s ugly remarks. Todd’s Speedo had led me down a new current of thought. A couple new currents, actually, but only one I could speak of. “Pearl, are you still going to Mr. Max’s house for bingo?”

“I was, but he shut down for a few days. Something about his air conditioner.”

“Did you ever see a tall, blond guy there?” I glanced at Casey.

She drew her brows together, studying me.

“Real good looking. Likes to tap his hands all over the place?”

“Todd the drummer?” Pearl slapped the table. “I got a handful of that sweetness just the other day.”

“Excuse me?”

“He sometimes calls the numbers and hands out the bingo cards. Some of the ladies get frisky with him and he backed into me. Accidentally parked that tight, little fanny right into my purse.”

I moved the conversation away from Todd’s tight, little fanny to prevent myself from taking another trip down Speedo lane. “So he’s working for Mr. Max.”

“I thought he drove a truck or something,” said Casey.

“He must be moonlighting. Even Todd wouldn’t be dumb enough to quit his job to deal bingo.” Or would he? Todd had issues with poker and Max had once tried to entice him into his underground gambling ring. Todd came from a long line of gamblers. Most of the McIntosh clan had been created between rolls of dice and hands of cards.

“You ever see anyone playing cards or games other than bingo at Mr. Max’s?” I asked Pearl.

“Can’t say I have. He’s careful to keep us in the Vegas room. That’s what we call it, but it looks more like a Mississippi boat.”

“I need to get into one of these bingo games.”

Casey scrunched her mouth to the side. “Don’t you have enough to worry about with Eloise’s deal? And what about your screwball body painting thingy?”

“I can’t focus on my art with all this poisoning and bingo nonsense,” I said. “Besides I’m fixing to use Luke as a model. I’m going to have to hold out until I get my lips working again.”

“I’ll take you to bingo,” said Pearl. “I usually go on Wednesdays. So tomorrow. Unless he still hasn’t got his a/c fixed.”

“Thank you, Miss Pearl. Maybe I should wear a disguise.” My mind started picking through my wardrobe. “You think a wig and glasses would do it or would Todd and Mr. Max see through that?”

Casey buried her forehead in her hand. “Leave your Scooby Doo shenanigans at home.”

“The ladies are fixing to see Todd’s band play at the County Line Tap on Friday night,” said Pearl. “Maybe you want to come with me to that, too?”

I pictured Todd on Red’s small stage encircled by screaming blue-hairs holding lighters above their heads. “I’d be crazy to miss that Sticks performance,” I snorted.

“You can snort all you want,” said Pearl, “but some of us used to tear up the concert scenes pretty good. I’ve seen Johnny Cash, Conway Twitty, Waylon Jennings, and even Jimmie Hendricks.”

“They’re all dead,” said Casey.

“What can I say? The good die young.” Pearl shrugged. “You think I can get Ed to go to the concert with me?”

Casey and I looked at each other and whooped with laughter. I clamped a hand on the table to keep my buttons from shaking off.

“You can get Grandpa Ed to go fishing, but beyond that you’re out of luck,” I said. “Possibly the County Fair. To check out the livestock.”

“Maybe a trip to the hardware store,” said Casey, “or the feed store.”

“But you’d have to drop him off so he can stand around the cash register and talk to the other old men who hang out there,” I said. “He’ll pretend like he doesn’t know you if you go inside.”

“We’ll see,” said Pearl. “He seems pretty content with having me over.”

“Listen, Miss Pearl,” I said. “Don’t try too hard. Grandpa’s a prickly thing, and I’ve never seen him wander out of his farm orbit, not even for my Grandma Jo. I’m sure he appreciates all your cooking.”

“And goats,” said Casey.

“But we don’t want to see you get your heart fixed on him.”

“Don’t you worry about me,” said Pearl. “I know something about old goats like Ed. They seem tough, but you just need to know how to soften them up.”

“Well, it’ll take a lot of butter to soften up that piece of gristle. But with my luck with men, I can’t cast stones,” I said. “And on that note, I’m fixing to go home to shower and change before I take Todd to the Viper. Although maybe a day’s worth of sweat is what I need to keep some distance between us.”

“If it’s that hard maybe you’re with the wrong guy,” said Casey. “Maybe this is your subconscious telling you that you should have stayed married to Todd. Saw something like that on TV just an hour ago.”

“Then my subconscious is stupid and not to be trusted.”

Casey smirked. “That’s not the only part of you that can’t be trusted. Be careful with those lips, sister.”

Dangit. I just hated when Casey was right.