The Battered Body (16 page)

“It’s postponed. There’s going to be a memorial service for Paulette on Christmas Eve instead.” James scowled. “Unfortunately, it’s bound to turn into a media feeding frenzy. Newspaper reporters and TV crews should be descending on us any second now.”

“You hear that, Willy?” Bennett called out to the proprietor. “The press is coming to Quincy’s Gap. Better stock up.”

Willy scrutinized the contents of his cooler and smiled. “I’d best make lots of extra coffee-flavored custard. Those journalist types go nuts for anythin’ that has so much as a whiff of caffeine.”

James was highly tempted to ask for one of Willy’s cinnamon cappuccino custards, but he was determined to restrict his caloric intake that day and feared that having dinner at the family-style Italian restaurant in New Market would be enough of a challenge to his resolve.

“So tell me, Bennett,” Lindy raised a dark eyebrow, “how exactly can five people crash a dinner party at Mamma Mia’s?”

“Easy.” Bennett wiped a trace of whipped cream from the rim of his wide-mouthed cup and sucked it from his finger with a smile. “We act like we just happened to have run into our old friend James. Because the man is so polite, he’ll introduce us to Milla’s kin and then he’ll feel like he’s gotta ask us to join the party. We protest at first, but then we sit down and order a few rounds of booze.
We
only pretend to drink, while encouraging the rest of them to get soused, and then we sit back and listen.”

“Do you think they’ll be
completely
honest and open with you there?” Gillian asked Lucy.

“No,” she answered truthfully. “I’ll dress in plain clothes and hang out at the bar, but I can’t sit with the rest of you. I can’t even come in at the same time. Maybe I can still eavesdrop from the bar.” She looked keenly disappointed.

The group fell silent, recognizing that their crime-solving methods were now firmly and truly altered since Lucy had become a deputy.

“It doesn’t matter,” Lindy said after a moment, and slung her arm around Lucy’s shoulder. “As long as we’re together, we can do some good.” She put her free hand in the center of the table. “The Flab Five is back at it! Who’s with me?”

Grinning like children, the friends piled their hands on top of hers and James felt, at least for the moment, that equilibrium had been restored.

James had never been to Mamma Mia’s before as it had only been open for a little over a month. The restaurant’s décor was a strange blend of luxury and outright tackiness. The walls were wood-paneled and the tablecloths were a pristine white and had been ironed and starched to crispness. Despite these elegant details, there were also dozens of Italian flag garlands criss-crossing the ceiling and trellises of silk bougainvillea in a very unnatural shade of electric pink obscured the walls. The centerpieces on the tables were comprised of dyed-green carnations and miniature Italian flags. The music was at odds too, alternating between Frank Sinatra, Pavarotti, and the soundtrack from
Moonstruck
.

Upon entering the quirky restaurant, Milla quickly took care of the seating arrangements and, after introducing James to her family, placed him between Willow and Chloe.

Paulette’s daughter was the absolute opposite of her mother. Where Paulette had been all thinness and sharp edges, Chloe was soft everywhere. With a round body, wide eyes, and unfashionably long hair, which she wore in a thick ponytail straight down her back, Chloe wore a loose T-shirt, a flowing denim skirt, and Birkenstock sandals. She greeted James with the open kindness and warmth that James had come to associate with Milla, and he found himself immediately hoping that the young woman had nothing to do with her mother’s sudden death.

Her younger brother, Chase, gripped James’s hand with unnecessary firmness and then, ending the contact with abruptness, fussed over the crimson silk handkerchief poking from the front pocket of his Brooks Brothers suit. He was clearly Paulette’s son, having the same angular jaw, dark eyes, and trim figure. Like his mother, it seemed physically impossible for Chase’s mouth to turn upwards in a smile and, after seating himself with regal grace, the New York lawyer gazed upon the present company with a mixture of boredom and disdain.

Aunt Wheezie was a sweet old lady. She embraced James, calling him a handsome boy, and then hung on to Milla’s arm, her expression affectionate. For someone in her late seventies, Wheezie was startlingly childlike and innocent. She glanced around Mamma Mia’s with the wide-eyed wonder of a young girl being offered her first carousel ride. When the waiter appeared, she giggled and ordered a Shirley Temple as though she were requesting a double shot of tequila.

“I’ll handle the wine,” Chase announced. “I’m sure to have the most qualified palate.”

He’s a male version of his mother
, James thought and then smiled as Gillian breezed through the restaurant’s front door wearing a purple poncho over a tangerine colored sheath and enormous drop earrings that fell like silver waterfalls to her shoulders. Lindy was right on her heels, looking attractively chic and exotic in a red wool coat, slimming black pantsuit, and chunky necklace made of asymmetrical, multicolored beads. Bennett wore a blue button-down and a mustard-colored tie, but had replaced his sports coat in favor of his favorite bomber jacket. Lucy was nowhere in sight.

“James! And Milla too!” Lindy trilled upon pretending to notice their large party. “What a surprise!”

She quickly walked over to Milla and gave her a warm kiss on the cheek. Shortly afterward, she was kissing everyone in welcome. Even Chase seemed to warm to her effusive charm.

“You
must
join us,” Milla insisted before James had the opportunity.

Gillian waved off the invitation. “Oh, we could
never
intrude on an
intimate
family gathering.”

Aunt Wheezie stroked her purple poncho with delight. “Are we having a party? You can sit next to me, sweetie. I like your pretty red hair.”

Gillian beamed. “You have such a
youthful
aura about you. I believe I might be rejuvenated just by being in your presence.”

Milla looked to James for help. “Would you ask the waiter to slide another table over here? It’s almost Christmas and your friends have become like family to me. I’d so love to have them eat with us.”

James bowed, feeling a prick of guilt for enacting such a deception upon a woman who had always been the epitome of sincerity and kindness. “Anything for you, milady,” he told her.

Once everyone was settled, the waiter bustled off toward the kitchen and returned with a bottle of wine. As he poured the burgundy-colored liquid into her glass, Lindy pointed at the bottle and said, “I think we’re gonna need at least two more of those.” She turned to Chloe and clinked glasses with her. “Y’all need some cheerin’ up, right?”

While Lindy regaled Chloe with details of her relationship troubles, Gillian asked Wheezie and Milla about their childhoods in Natchez. Chase, who guzzled down his first glass of wine as though it were Gatorade, seemed grudgingly impressed to learn that Bennett was to be a
Jeopardy!
contestant in a few weeks and proceeded to toss out question after question of legal trivia. Bennett refilled Chase’s glass and pretended to ponder each question as though he had never been so challenged by another person’s wisdom before.

Each of the supper club members had previously chosen a member of the party to get to know, and James had volunteered to focus his attention on Willow. He had a difficult time concentrating on small talk, however, once the waiter appeared with their appetizers. They were served on enormous porcelain platters meant to be passed around the table so that everyone could sample each dish. There were stuffed mushrooms bathed in a four-cheese sauce, fried zucchini sticks with marinara dip, lamb ravioli in a creamy pesto sauce, and spicy bruschetta covered by a thin layer of parmesan, sun-dried tomatoes, and fresh basil.

“Do you remember when I came to the library? You said that you might have an idea about a job for me?” Willow gently reminded James as he accepted a mushroom from the platter she held out to him.

“Indeed I do. Excuse me, Milla.” James interrupted a conversation between Gillian and his future stepmother. “Would you mind telling Willow about
Quincy’s Whimsies
?”

For the first time since receiving the news that her sister was dead, Milla’s face lit up and her eyes sparkled with animation. “I’m planning on opening a gourmet gift store in the spring. I’m going to carry handmade gifts, made by craftsmen right in our own Shenandoah Valley, and eatable gifts as well. Nothing that would compete with the Sweet Tooth or the Custard Cottage, of course. I was thinking of offering some pre-made dinners and a line of jams, sauces, purees—that sort of thing.”

“How about handmade chocolates and candies?” Willow asked eagerly.

Milla nodded with a smile. “Those would be an excellent addition to our inventory, my dear. I was also thinking of carrying specialized kitchen tools and cookbooks. Pretty tea towels and potholders and aprons. Oh! I can see it all already!”

“You could make culinary gift baskets too,” Willow suggested, caught up in Milla’s vision. “Instead of sending people a bouquet of flowers for Valentine’s Day or Mother’s Day or whatever, a customer could create a personalized gift basket stuffed with the recipient’s favorite candy, jam flavor, scented candle—that kind of thing.”

“That’s brilliant!” Milla declared. “And we could make baskets of local products to sell to the tourists. I love it!” She clapped her hands. “How would you like to be the manager of
Quincy’s Whimsies
, my girl?”

“Me? Really?” Willow blushed and put her hand to her chest, clearly stunned. “But you barely know me.”

James refilled both of their wine glasses, reveling in the glow on Milla’s cheeks and the spark of hope in Willow’s pale blue eyes.

“I know enough,” Milla declared forcefully. “You’re a hard worker, a creative thinker, and you can cook. James brought me home a fat slice of that lemon-strawberry layer cake, and I was licking my fingers for hours afterward.” She studied Willow over the rim of her wine glass. “I assume you could bake every one of Paulette’s cakes, couldn’t you?”

“Yes. I’ve even helped her improve her recipes.” Willow looked both proud and embarrassed of her skills. “I could take over her show if I had any personality, but I don’t, and I’d hate to be on TV anyway. I really love to make things from scratch though. Fresh foods are so fulfilling, and I love the look on people’s faces when they taste something really delicious that I’ve made.”

“I enjoy that too.” Milla smiled at Willow fondly. “That’s why I started my cooking school, so that my students could learn to put that look on those gathered around their tables. But now I’d like to surround myself with a shop stuffed to the brim with pretty things, gossiping with my customers while I sit on a stool, drinking a cup of tea, listening to the cash register ring and ring.”

Willow sighed euphorically. “That sounds so lovely. I’d be thrilled to be a part of your enterprise. I’ll need to wrap up my life in New York and find an apartment to rent down here first.” She looked at James from beneath her lashes. “Does Francis live in an apartment? Maybe he knows of a vacancy in his building.”

“No. He and Scott live in an apartment in a converted garage, but there’s a brand new complex not too far from town you could check out. For the price of your Manhattan studio you could probably get a three-bedroom palace in Quincy’s Gap.”

Willow and Milla continued to brainstorm about their future endeavor while two waiters arrived bearing their entrées. James watched with delight as the heavy platters were placed on the table.

“Beautiful!” Aunt Wheezie shouted with glee and James felt like doing the same. Before him was an Italian feast featuring slices of veal saltimbocca slathered in brown sauce and melted mozzarella, thin pieces of chicken piccata embellished with paper-thin slivers of lemon, mounds of fettuccini Alfredo mixed with prosciutto and peas, salmon filets flavored with lemon and herbs, and lobster tortellini in a creamy tomato basil sauce.

Having already consumed a large serving of spinach salad, James was determined to make good choices during this part of the meal, so he helped himself to a salmon filet and half a chicken cutlet. Every bite of the rich fare was delicious, and it took an iron will to steer clear of the enticing but undoubtedly fattening noodle dishes. No one else was skimping on samples, however, and James couldn’t believe how much food the party was able to consume.

With two glasses of wine and excellent food in his belly, James was having a hard time viewing his tablemates with a suspicious eye. Even Chase, who had warmed up conspicuously due to the entire bottle of wine he drank, was joking around with Bennett as though they were old friends.

Everyone was laughing and rosy-cheeked, and it wasn’t until James left to use the restroom that he became aware of a familiar figure sitting at the bar. Lucy was wearing a baggy gray wool coat over jeans and a black turtleneck. Her head was slightly bent and her hair partially obscured her face. A half-filled cup of coffee sat between her hands and James realized she had been watching them in the mirror behind the bar.

“How long have you been here?” he asked without looking directly at her.

“Since your appetizer course.”