Still Life in Brunswick Stew (29 page)

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Authors: Larissa Reinhart

Tags: #Mystery, #humor, #cozy, #Humour, #Romance, #cozy mystery, #southern mystery, #humorous mystery, #mystery series

BOOK: Still Life in Brunswick Stew
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“Really?”

“You think I’m telling stories?” She gave me a slow gander. “You’re dressed more appropriately except for that doo-dad on your back. Is that supposed to be a peach? Why’s it black and white?”

“It’s a Raku pot. In honor of Eloise.”

“Well, I never. Wearing drug paraphernalia on your dress to a funeral?” She whipped the cake away and handed it to the person behind me. “Get. We don’t need that here.”

“A Raku pot is the kind of pottery Eloise made...”

“Looks more like a picture of someone who lost their britches,” said the familiar baritone behind me, “and bent over.”

I turned and caught Luke’s stern look.

“I warned you to leave.” He forked a piece of red velvet cake in his mouth and walked away.

“Mercy,” said cow print dress. “Of all things. Have you no respect?” She hollered behind her. “Jason. Dan. Help this girl to the door. Did you see what she’s wearing to the poor Parkers funeral?”

“Don’t listen to that Luke Harper,” I said. “He just wants to get rid of me.”

“Thank the good Lord for that. We don’t need you and your provocative clothing disrespecting the dead and her family.”

“What’s more appropriate for Eloise’s funeral? Cows or the very object of art the deceased made?” I said. “Do you even know anything about Eloise Parker? She would have loved this embellishment.”

I halted my speech. Two beefy young men in clean overalls and neat checked shirts ambled forward.

“Momma?” They said to cow print dress.

“Get this druggie out of here,” she said. “She’s looking for food handouts and wearing pictures of derrieres on her dress. This kind of thing may fly in Atlanta but we have something called decency out here.”

Jim and Dan grabbed my elbows. I gripped my brownies.

“Ask the Parkers who I am,” I said. “I’m not a druggie. I’m Eloise’s friend.”

“One of her arty friends, I suppose, who spends her days doing drugs, vandalizing buildings, and calling it art,” said cow print. “Get her out of here.”

“I don’t do graffiti. I’m a portraitist!”

Jim and Dan lurched forward, dragging me with them. Leah dropped her plate on the table and scurried after my escorts. The crowd parted, creating a path toward the hall’s back door. Words flew about the drug-addled graffiti artist wearing X-rated clothing to a funeral. The church hall version of the telephone game.

As we passed Luke, he smiled with his teeth. “Told you to leave.”

“Tell them who I am,” I said. “I keep getting kicked out of Eloise’s services.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“I’ll get you for this, Luke Harper,” I hollered.

“Here’s the thing,” I said to Leah. “After that fight with Todd, I feel kind of bad about getting the Bear shut down. Pearl thinks the bingo was on the up-and-up, and Casey thinks I’ve got it in for Mr. Max because he’s rich. That’s not true. And to prove it, I’m going to apologize and give him these brownies.”

We had sped out of Sidewinder for fear of pitchforks and torches. Now Leah’s minivan idled in the drive of Max Avtaikin’s reproduction of Tara. She stared at the cannon and bit her lip.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” said Leah. “Every time I go somewhere with you, we get kicked out or threatened.”

“You’re exaggerating. We’ve gone plenty of places without getting kicked out. I’m just apologizing to the Bear. Would I give up these delicious looking brownies if I didn’t feel remorseful?”

“That’s true. I’d never known you to re-gift food.”

“Exactly. And I was the only one who didn’t get cake at the funeral dinner. I’m starving, but I know Mr. Max enjoys baked goods, so I’m putting his needs before my own.”

“That’s very Christian of you,” Leah said and smiled. “You want me to come with you?”

“Actually, he might be a teensy upset about losing the bingo, so you wait here. Just in case I’m threatened or kicked out.”

Leah folded her arms over her ruffly bosom and frowned.

I hopped from the van, strolled onto Max’s wide porch, and pressed the doorbell. A long minute later, Max opened the door and greeted me with a raised eyebrow.

“Hello, Bear,” I said. “I’ve come to apologize.”

Both eyebrows rose.

“I heard about your bingo getting shut down. And it might have been my fault. I wanted to give you these brownies.”

“You ask the police to investigate my legitimate business and then you bring the cookies? This is your apology for killing my business? Cookies?”

“Brownies. Not cookies.” I pressed the plate into his hands before he could curl them into fists. “And if your business is legitimate, the police will figure that out pretty quickly. No harm done.”

“It is not how this bureaucracy works, Artist. It is not with the police I worry. There is threat of Internal Revenue Service and the state revenue service to investigate. Do you know how this will cost me?”

“Not really. But if everything is legit, then—”

The door slammed shut before I could finish my thought.

With hot cheeks, I ambled back to the minivan. I slid into the van, avoiding Leah’s eyes, and slunk in my seat.

“Well, good news is I didn’t get kicked out or threatened,” I said.

“Bad news?”

“I have ticked off three guys in two days. And probably riled up a mob of grandmas by shutting down bingo for good.”

“What now?’

“Guess I’ll go to Red’s. Sticks is playing anyway. If they’re going to tar and feather me, I’d rather have a beer first.”

 

THIRTY-FOUR

Friday night at Red’s County Line found the bar ridiculously congested. The usual Friday patrons—Halo’s twenty-somethings, lushes, and couples on dates—crowded the long, wooden bar and surrounding tables. However, middle-aged and elderly women thronged the far end of the room near the stage. Another factor pointing toward some misalignment in my universe.

I avoided that end of the room. Between Todd’s stage presence and a mob of angry ex-bingo players, I knew to keep my bottom glued to my bar stool. Better yet, I would also try to keep my mouth glued shut. Which was much harder.

“Well, Red,” I said, “Looks like I might be single again.”

“Not surprised.” Red deposited a longneck before me. “You’re a commitment-phobic, relationship self-sabotager. Which, oddly enough, attracts men like sugar ants to peanut butter.”

“Don’t give me your pop psychology tonight. It’s not all my fault. Luke has issues, too. His family’s defects are just hidden behind money and proper behavior.”

“Listen to yourself.” Red shook his head. “Just like with Todd. Nothing but excuses. You get your painting done?”

“No. I still need a model. Are you sure you won’t do it? You don’t even have to pose nude. Skivvies will work and of course, there’s the body paint. I swear nobody from Halo will ever see it. I’m sending the paintings to a gallery in Athens if I can get them approved.”

In answer, Red flipped his towel over his shoulder and strode to the other end of the bar.

I swiveled in my seat to observe the group of women gathered near the stage. Their purses and sweaters claimed all the tables circling the dance floor. Somewhere in the mob, Pearl waved a beer and clamored for “Hot Pants McIntosh.” Chablis and mint juleps circulated amongst the rioters.

Leaving his table of mechanic and hardware clerk friends, Cody sauntered to the bar. Beer in hand, he eased between me and the next occupied stool.

“How you doing, sis?” he said.

“Not so good. I got kicked out of Eloise’s funeral dinner.”

“Huh. Don’t let it bug you. What you want with some reheated casseroles anyway?”

“Love you, brother. I needed that.”

His face reddened. Turning away from me, he leaned against the bar to scout the room for girls. “So you and Luke are on the skids?”

“Maybe,” I said. “He’s kind of mad at me for interfering in Eloise’s murder case. So things between us are kind of muddy.”

“Listen, I wanted to tell you about some pictures I found—” He cut off his statement as Luke and Shawna strode through Red’s front door.

My heart sank to the ruby tips of my toenails. I swiveled back to face the bar and swigged my beer. I could feel Luke’s fiery glower skimming over my cinnabar green halter and settling on my shoulders.

“Damn, he works fast,” said Cody. “He’s out with Shawna?”

“Shawna’s his cousin,” I said, noticing my voice lacked conviction.

“Everyone knows they’re not related. She’s more kin to us than Luke.”

“You’re really cheering me up here.”

“Sorry.” Cody scooted off his stool and tossed several bills on the bar.

“You’re not staying to listen to Sticks? Todd’ll be disappointed.” I said. “Where are you going?”

“Let’s just say, you’re not the only one who has issues with the Bransons. I stay here and I’m fixing to fight. Better I go.”

My gaze followed him to the door, searching for clues as to why he wanted to fight Bransons. As a guy, Cody remained a mystery to me. I never looked for fights. They just happened out of the blue. And who was he planning to fight? I hoped it was Shawna, but I’ve never known him to belt a girl. I set aside the enigma that was my brother and returned to gazing in the bar mirror, scanning for Greek model prospects. And pretending not to watch Luke chat with a table full of Shawna’s snobby friends.

Red sidled to Cody’s abandoned spot, retrieved his empty glass, and scooped up the money. “Cody’s not staying?”

“Guess not,” I said. “He’s been acting kind of strange. And he’s mad at the Bransons.”

“Why?”

“I have no idea. We’ve suffered from their ugly talk before. Don’t know why it’s bothering him now. Doesn’t bother me much.”

“The meek shall inherit.” Red smiled.

“Then I’m pretty much screwed,” I said. “Maybe you should tell me the line about the poor instead.”

Red laughed and strolled off.

I waved Casey to the bar. Her plaid and pleated micro-mini skirt brushed the tops of her thighs as she walked. A breeze stirred her hair as men’s heads turned to watch her approach the bar.

“What’s going on with Cody?” I asked.

“Dunno,” Casey shrugged. “Somebody’s peed in his Wheaties, I guess. You know, he’s been asking a lot of questions about Momma lately.”

“Momma?” For twenty years, the family avoided mention of Christy Tucker. Now she popped into conversation like a Jack Russell on steroids.

“Momma and Daddy. It’s different for Cody, you know. He never knew either one.”

“Not like I got to know them much by age five,” I said.

“It’s still different. He was a baby. And Cody can do the math between his birthday and daddy’s funeral. He’s got questions.”

“I agree with Grandpa. Those things are better left buried.”

Casey shrugged, causing her cropped shirt to rise and expose her belly button ring. A whistle rose from the table behind me. She pretended to glare at the young men pursing their lips and left me to saunter to their table.

I ignored their flirting at the sight of Luke striding to the bar. He caught my gaze in the mirror. I held it, searching for the old Luke. The gray eyes looked as cool as wet slate.

“Thanks a lot for getting me thrown out of Eloise’s funeral dinner,” I said as he squeezed between me and the next stool.

“I told you I didn’t want you in Sidewinder.”

“How can you think I’d stay away from Eloise’s funeral?”

“You could have asked me to take you instead of Leah.”

“I didn’t want a police escort. And I didn’t get much support at Eloise’s visitation when your step-cousin attacked me.” I pivoted to glare toward Shawna. “By the way, are you out with Shawna?”

“I just got off work. Shawna was at Mom’s house when I went home to change.”

“Does Shawna know you’re not on a date?”

“You and Shawna need to cut it out,” he muttered. “You’re both going to drive me to an early grave.”

“Why would Shawna drive you to an early grave? I thought that was my role.”

He leaned his elbows on the bar and watched Red fix a drink.

“She’s hanging out with your parents an awful lot,” I spoke to his back. “I don’t remember seeing her in Halo much until you moved back home.”

Luke swigged his beer and swept his gaze down the line of people crowding the bar.

“I knew it,” I said. “Is she just stalking you or are you enjoying each other’s company? Is she the one bringing you barbecue at work or are those just plain old badge bunnies?”

“I told you I didn’t take anybody’s barbecue but yours.” He set his bottle on the bar and fiddled with a napkin. “Momma and JB like Shawna. They’re hoping we’ll get along.”

I spun around and slammed my hand on the bar. “Why don’t you tell me these things?”

“Because I know it’ll piss you off. I don’t want to date Shawna. She’s not my type. You’re my type. When you’re not acting like a fool idiot by getting beat up in parking lots and hanging around a bunch of murder suspects.”

“That’s not the point, Luke. The point is your parents want you to date Shawna because you never told them you’re going out with me.”

“Can we do this somewhere else?” He said, yanking on my elbow. “I don’t like my private life made public, especially in Red’s.”

“In case someone guesses we know each other?”

However, I also didn’t want Red’s public witnessing our fight, so I followed Luke outside and around the building.

We halted near a side entrance where we wouldn’t be interrupted by incoming Sticks fans. I crossed my arms and leaned against the corrugated metal wall.

“I’m sick of all the secrecy,” I said. “During our previous relationship, we were away at school. No big deal that I didn’t meet your parents. But I’m an adult now. I said my piece at Eloise’s visitation. You don’t tell me anything. You don’t tell your family anything. Normal relationships don’t work like that. If you can’t acknowledge me to your family, I don’t see us having a future.”

“You better be careful of what you say.”

“At least I’m saying it. It’s called communication.”

“I was clear about how I felt about you interfering in my job. Communication also means listening.”

“I admit it’s not my best attribute,” I said. “Todd implied the same thing. He’s mad at me, too, for shutting down Max’s operation.”

“Get this through your thick head. You didn’t shut down Avtaikin’s operation. He shut himself down. According to the gambling laws of Georgia, anyone using a license for bingo is not supposed to make a profit of more than thirty dollars a day.”

I gasped. “No wonder he’s so angry. I’m real sure he was making more than thirty bucks.”

“And thanks to you, your nosing around tipped him off. He poured all that money back into the Ladies Auxiliary coffers preceding our warrant to search his office and computer.”

“Thanks to me? And he made me think I busted him.”

“Cherry,” Luke said and grasped my shoulders. “You need to cut this stuff out.”

“I had lemonade and cookies with the man. Had a tour of his house.” I skipped the part about scaling his wall to look for errant poker games. “I wonder if Max’s air conditioning wasn’t on to have a couple extra days to cook the books.”

“This is what I’m talking about. Why are you even considering the hows and whens of Max Avtaikin’s money laundering schemes?”

“Money laundering? You think?”

“Never mind what I think. Why can’t you leave well enough alone?”

“I had to find out what Todd was doing at the Bear’s house.”

“Why? Why do you have to find out what Todd is doing at Avtaikin’s house? Todd is a grown man. It’s his business.”

“He’s my friend. That makes it my business. Just like with Eloise. I can’t help that.”

Luke released me to fold his arms over his chest. I noticed the twitch in his eye had returned with a vengeance. “You would interfere in a police investigation to help a friend.”

“Of course,” I said and then realized the stupidity of blurting out the truth. Me and my predilection for honesty.

The nerve above Luke’s eye revved from twitch to hammer.

“I think I better go back inside,” I said.

“I’m going home to think carefully about this conversation.”

That didn’t sound too promising for me. My lips bunched together into a trembling pout, but I had no sympathy for them. I blamed their ineffectiveness for some of this mess. Luke needed body heat my lips couldn’t provide.

He gazed at my traitorous lips for a long moment and walked away.

If I hadn’t broken us up earlier, I sure did a good job of it now.

 

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