A Rip Roaring Good Time (12 page)

Lexie went on to describe those next few moments. "With the empty tray in one hand and the cake knife in the other, I was in the process of returning to the kitchen yet again. On the way, I nearly tripped over a large object on the floor which turned out to be Trotter's body. Just as I straightened up next to him, the lights came on unexpectedly and everyone shouted out to surprise Wendy. Then I remember seeing a number of flashes from cameras, including the one that captured me appearing to have just killed Trotter Hayes. If I had a 'joyful' expression on my face it was just because I was happy I hadn't done a face plant on the parlor floor when I stumbled over Trotter's body. And now I'm sitting in a jail cell trying to make sense of the entire sequence of events that led up to that moment."

My vow to keep my opinions to myself lasted less than two minutes. "You know, Lexie, if you hadn't agreed to wait on that big turd like he was royalty in the first place, you wouldn't be in this predicament now."

Lexie laughed and shook her head. "Oh, Rapella. Only you could come up with something like that! But thank you for making me laugh for the first time since before this whole crazy thing took place."

I hadn't meant to make her laugh, but I was happy to see a genuine smile on her face nonetheless. Glancing at Rip, I noticed there was no sign of a smile on his face. "Sweetheart," he said patiently. "What part of 'Wyatt's going to run us out of here in less than fifteen minutes' didn't you understand?"

"Hey, Lexie, honey," Stone spoke soothingly. "Wyatt told me it was a guest named Alice Runcan who showed Detective Russell a photo she'd taken on her cell phone. Do you know Alice by any chance?"

I interrupted again, despite my husband's scowling expression. "I remember watching that floozy practically seducing the detective on the other side of the parlor right after the cops arrived. She was rubbing her ample boobs all over that detective to get his attention, and her efforts were clearly successful. He was literally licking his lips while she was doing so. I'd gotten the impression she'd only used the excuse of showing him a photo on her phone in order to flirt with him."

Lexie nodded and asked, "But, instead, could she have been trying to frame me for a murder she'd committed? Maybe that's why she snapped the photo to begin with. She may have just seized that perfectly timed opportunity to point the finger in my direction, and away from her or anyone else in the crowd."

"I guess it's possible," I consented. "But I still think she was just trying to get in his britches."

"Lexie's point is something to consider," my husband said. He looked at me in disgust as he said to Lexie, "You never got the chance to answer Stone's question about whether or not you knew Alice Runcan before the party."

"Well, of course I'd heard a lot about her in numerous conversations with Wendy and Mattie over the years but I'd never met her in person before."

"She was a high-school classmate of ours," Wendy said. "Mattie and I buddied around with her on occasion but I never brought her home to introduce to Mom because we just weren't all that close."

"Our allotted time with you is about up but we'll discuss it more tonight when the kids all come over for dinner," I said.

"The kids are coming over for supper?" Lexie asked wistfully.

I should have thought before making that comment. We'd decided to invite them over so we could further discuss the murder and find out any new developments from Detective Johnston. Along with Wendy and Andy, Wyatt and his girlfriend, Veronica, were also joining us for a meal of pizza, bread sticks, and red wine. On the way to the police station, we'd decided to save the pork chops I'd thawed out and order our dinner from a local pizzeria instead. There was no time to waste on cooking meals when we could have the food delivered instead.

At the moment there were no guests at the inn. The two couples from out of town who'd been booked there for the night of the party had returned to their homes this morning, as had a few other guests who's stay over at the inn had only been coincidental. Before they departed, Lexie's best friend, Sheila Davidson, and her husband, Randy, had assured me they were just a phone call away if there was anything they could do to help out with the situation at hand. The Davidsons seemed like good people too.

I instantly felt bad about bringing up our plans for the evening while Lexie was locked in a God-awful cage. I could tell from her expression that she was upset about missing out on what would no doubt be a pleasant and interesting evening with the two young couples, all of whom Lexie adored as if they were her own children.

According to Lexie, Wyatt had been taking good care of her even though the chief had insisted that she receive no special privileges. That made me feel a little better about her current situation. She told us Wyatt had brought her coffee at every opportunity, and even sneaked in some fast food for her just before we arrived so she didn't have to eat the customary lunch fare for inmates of the local jail. The previous evening, at the risk of losing his position on the Rockdale police force, he had even secured a warm blanket for her and laid a foam pad on her cot so she'd be as comfortable as he could possibly make her.

Thinking about Wyatt's kindness seemed to make him magically appear. He said, "Sorry folks! Gotta run you out of here before Travis and Russell report to work."As we proceeded to our vehicles in the parking lot, I thought about what had happened to throw the entire special event into such a chaotic conundrum.

As it stood, Andy had not been able to propose to Wendy. Obviously, he didn't want to ask her to marry him while her mother was in jail for murder. The very thought that those two youngsters' engagement was being forced into limbo until the real killer was apprehended and charged with murder saddened me. But it also strengthened my resolve to track down the killer soon so Lexie could be released and the kids could get properly engaged. I hoped to still be here when their engagement became official. In the meantime, Rip and I needed to break down any obstacle that blocked our path in hunting down Trotter Hayes's killer and bringing him, or her, to justice.

Chapter 8

Sitting around the large dining room table, which could easily seat another half dozen people, we talked about the case while we chewed on bland, nearly tasteless, thin and crispy sausage and pepperoni pizzas. They even looked like they'd been run over three or four times by a dump truck and then left on the pavement to cook in the sun for a week. They would have made better Frisbees than pizzas, but it didn't really matter. I didn't have to prepare them, and that's all I cared about. We all consumed our food mindlessly anyway, while we concentrated on our lively conversation.

Wyatt had no new information to pass on. He had a suspicion he was being intentionally kept in the dark about the case because of his relationship with Lexie and Stone. According to Lexie, the friendly detective stopped by the inn more mornings than not to drink two or three cups of coffee and eat as many pastries as she could come up with. She had told me he ate like a man who had just been rescued from a deserted island he'd been stranded on for weeks. Not just occasionally, but on a regular basis.

If the man was taking in as many calories as Lexie had indicated, he must have the metabolism of a hummingbird, which ate over twice its weight in nectar every day. Even having been told about the detective's appetite, I was still astounded when I saw him reach for his eighth slice of pizza. Now I realized why Stone had asked me to order so much pizza. At the time, I was assuming we'd have enough left over to eat for lunch the following day. Stone had also asked me to order two dozen cinnamon sticks, of which Wyatt had devoured seven already.

Wyatt was a big man, but seemed to be in incredibly good condition. He was tall, muscular, and very fit. The polar opposite of my husband, who was short, a tad doughy, and beginning to fall apart piece by piece, like a lot of folks our age tend to do. He wasn't terribly overweight, but his once firm muscles seemed to be atrophying from lack of use and leaning toward flabby now. Having to drag along a cane slowed him down, and the lack of exercise was starting to take a toll on Rip's waistline. I'd bought him three new leather belts in the last couple of years, one size bigger each time.

I had always made an effort to keep in shape. I swam whenever possible and tried to walk several miles every day. So far, it was keeping me in as good a condition as one could expect. I was determined to stay on Rip's case until I could convince him to see an orthopedic surgeon about his hip. It'd be advantageous for both of us if he were able to walk with me.

I came out of my reverie when I heard Rip ask Wendy how well she knew Alice Runcan. In response, Wendy wiggled her right hand in a so-so gesture, and said, "For the majority of the time, she hung out with Joy White and Rayleen Waters in high school. Mattie and I attended a lot of the same school functions they did. I haven't seen her in quite a while but knew her fairly well back then. Alice belongs to the same church that Mom and Georgia do, Rockdale Baptist. Mom told me that Alice keeps very busy with church functions. Mom said she seems to volunteer for every committee and helps out with almost every special event the church participates in."

"I'll bet she doesn't stay as busy with church stuff as she'd like to keep busy with Detective Russell," I remarked. There was something about the girl's flirtatious manner that had irked me. And now I was irked even more, with the notion she might have framed my friend heavy on my mind.

"Rapella!" Wendy gasped and then laughed at my comment and continued. "I can't believe you said that, but I really can't disagree with your impression of Alice Runcan. Mattie and I have always thought she was a little too brazen when it came to men. She's always been odd and unpredictable, but for someone so devoted to the church, she is surprisingly, um, what's the word—"

"Sluttish?" I asked.

"That will work," Wendy replied with a chuckle. "She's surprisingly 'sluttish' for such a devout Christian."

"That don't mean nothing though," I said. "I've known of several elders in our church back home who boozed it up all week long, cheating on their spouses frequently, and then acting like they're 'holier than thou' on Sunday. I hate to use a cliché, but as folks often say, 'you can't judge a book by its cover.'"

"That's for sure!" Wyatt's girlfriend, Veronica, said, speaking for the first time since we'd all sat down at the table. Veronica was very thin, almost skeletal, and I noticed she didn't even finish the one slice of pizza she'd put on her plate.

"Hey, girl," I said to the skinny young gal at the end of the table. "Eat up! There's still several pieces Wyatt hasn't snatched up yet. You could stand a little more meat on your bones."

Veronica flashed me a stilted, but friendly, smile. She didn't reach for one of the remaining slices, however. Wyatt looked at her, shrugged his shoulders, and took another slice out of the cardboard box for himself.
Oh well, not my problem
, I thought, and then rejoined the original conversation.

"Does Alice have a job that you know of?" I asked Wendy.

"Yes, she owns a restaurant called Zen's Diner. She just opened it up a few months ago. I've heard the business is struggling to stay alive, but I really don't know a lot about it. Zen's Diner is in a little town about twenty miles southwest of here called Ferry's Landing. It's on the Kansas side of the border."

"Sounds like it might be a gay colony," I replied.

"It's f-e-r-r-y, not f-a-i-r-y," Veronica said in response to my question that was actually meant for Wendy. She sounded disgusted when she continued. "It's a small town, for sure, but it's not a colony. And besides, it's not like gay folks need to be isolated on an island. They're not lepers, for God's sakes! They're folks like you and me who just happen to have a different sexual preference. Simple as that!"

An uncomfortable stillness fell over the room. Stone gave Veronica a questioning look as Rip did the same to me. Wendy and Andy wore matching stunned expressions, and Wyatt, who was impervious to the entire conversation, grabbed one final slice of pizza to place on his plate. For a few seconds I could hear my own heart beating.

Finally, I broke the silence. "I didn't mean anything derogatory by what I said, young lady. I had no intention of offending you, or gays, for that matter. I certainly have nothing against their kind. I've always felt that every person should choose their own path in life. In fact, Rip and I have several good friends who are gay and I love them all to pieces. To each his own, you know."