Delicious and Suspicious (19 page)

 

 

Lulu felt world-weary about this case. She couldn’t even imagine how Detective Bryce could investigate crime for a living. And he still looked boyish! He must have a painting in his attic that was turning monstrous, like Dorian Gray.

Lulu wondered if maybe she should take a little break. The secrets everybody toted around were really wearing her down. When the phone rang with Evelyn on the line, Lulu decided that the two of them must have some kind of cosmic connection.

“I just had the best idea!” bubbled Evelyn. “We’ll do a girls’ day out tomorrow. My house on the lake. We’ll have brunch, go out on the boat, have some drinks and some food, and
relax
. What do you think?” Evelyn demanded Lulu’s opinion in a tone that indicated she’d allow no argument.

Lulu was a little bit leery of this idea. The last planned girls’ outing had ended with Flo throwing up in a trashcan, and Lulu and Cherry driving around with security looking for her car.

Evelyn added, as though reading Lulu’s mind again, “And this time we’ll have
fun
. We need,” Evelyn pronounced, “to escape from Memphis.”

Evelyn had quite an impressive house right on Pickwick Lake, as did many of Memphis’s well-to-do residents. But the thing about Pickwick was that it wasn’t exactly local. No, it would take them close to three hours to get there. She opened her mouth to offer a quick excuse.

“Now wait, Lulu. I’m sensing a
no
coming. This won’t be a day trip, and you won’t have to drive. We’re going to have an overnight excursion. A house party.”

Lulu hesitated. “Aren’t some of us under suspicion of murder? Shouldn’t we stay in Memphis?”

“It’s not Bora Bora, honey! And, we’re not
all
under suspicion. Besides, no one told us to stay here in town, did they?”

Not as far as Lulu knew. She wasn’t sure what Flo had been told. Lulu was tempted to say no, but realized it might be the best opportunity to ask some questions. The Graces always knew the inside track on everything and everybody. Besides, Evelyn was rolling in money, and her lake house was a sight to behold.

As though anticipating more doubts, Evelyn said in a wheedling tone, “Tommie’s gonna cook the brunch.” Tommie was Evelyn’s long-time housekeeper and girl Friday.

Lulu’s tummy rumbled on cue. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Evelyn. I’d never pass up a meal from Tommie.”

“Great! It’s a plan, then. The weather looks like it’s going to be perfect. I’ll call the ladies. Make sure you pack a bathing suit and a towel.”

 

 

The day started out just as Evelyn said it would. The sun shone as if nighttime would never come. The car ride over seemed quick with such lively companions. Evelyn was the perfect hostess. They sat out on her huge screen porch with ceiling fans blowing. This, actually, was not Lulu’s strict definition of a screen porch. Such a definition would include a description of the area that was attached to the front of Aunt Pat’s. This place was more of an outdoor living room with comfortable brand-new sofas that aspired to be shabby chic.

Evelyn’s housekeeper, Tommie, strode out with a tray of Bloody Marys. She wore a buttoned-down pink blouse, a floral skirt that stretched over her stomach, and large white tennis shoes. And a somewhat put-upon expression.

“Y’all know my executive assistant, Tommie, don’t you?” drawled Evelyn.

Tommie beamed at the chorus of hi’s, then mock-scowled at Evelyn. “Executive assistant? I’ll execute
you
! I saw that pile of clean laundry wrinkling up there in the dryer. I’m darned if I’ll pull that heavy iron out. How long has that stuff been in there? Since the last time we were at Pickwick?”

“Probably. Well, throw a wet washcloth in there and run it a few minutes. The wrinkles will fall out,” said Evelyn carelessly.

While the ladies were visiting on the porch, Lulu couldn’t resist checking out Evelyn’s kitchen. Sure enough, the kitchen was drool worthy. It was massive, with tons of granite-covered counter space and enough cabinets to store any kind of kitchen gadget that you wanted to. Lulu couldn’t resist opening a cabinet door. Sure enough, there were slicers and processors and blenders that seemed to mean business. There were vegetable steamers and egg slicers and fondue pots . . .

“It does beat all, doesn’t it?” Lulu jumped guiltily and turned around to see Tommie standing behind her, laughing. “I didn’t mean to scare you, Lulu.”

“Do you really know how to use all these gadgets, Tommie?”

“Mercy, no! But Miss Evelyn likes to have them around, anyway. For when
she
cooks.” Tommie smirked. “Elbow grease works just fine for me with the dicing and slicing. And not much cleanup, either. Some of her cooking toys are the devil to clean, let me tell you.”

She motioned to Lulu to follow her. “Take a look at this. You’ll appreciate this part of the kitchen.” She opened an oak door and made a sweeping gesture to Lulu at the huge pantry inside. Half of one wall was devoted to spices and oils of every kind and description. There were exotic looking pastas and rice and jarred fruits and vegetables. Lulu was overwhelmed. “This looks bigger than our storeroom at the restaurant!” She shook her head. “I’m going to have to get out of here before my face freezes this way.”

“What way?”

“Green! With envy.”

Tommie laughed. “Well, how about if you come around and see what I’m cooking up for y’all for lunch.”

“I thought you’d never ask! What’s that lovely aroma I’ve been smelling?”

“That is my very own Vidalia onion pie,” said Tommie with a great deal of personal satisfaction.

Lulu gave a big smile. “I haven’t had onion pie for ages, Tommie. Aunt Pat used to make a heavenly sweet onion pie, but I never watched her make it. What’s in yours?”

“Oh, I like to put in some cheese . . .”

“Cheddar?”

“Oh, honey, Miss Evelyn got over the cheddar. Now we’re into the goat cheese. But cheddar would work just fine. Then we got the heavy cream . . .”

Lulu gave a happy sigh.

“Or, if you’re watching your figure, the half-and-half. We’ve got ourselves a few eggs, some nutmeg, some butter to cook up our onions in . . .” She tapped her foot while she tried to summon the other ingredients.

“Bacon?” asked Lulu hopefully. “I’ve been having the biggest hankering for bacon lately.”

“Bacon!” said Tommie, thumping the granite counter. “That’s exactly right.”

“That sounds like the
perfect
lunch.”

“That’s not the lunch, sweetie, that’s just a side item. No, we got the famous Tommie fried chicken as the main course. Y’all are having a special, pampering girls’ day. So get ready for some pampering from the kitchen.”

Evelyn hurried in. “’Scuse me, y’all. I’ve got some cutting up to do.”

Tommie put her hands on her hips. “Something I can do for you, Miss Evelyn? Because I’d rather not have you messing around my kitchen.”

“No, just cutting up some limes and lemons, that’s all.”

Lulu winced at the glass cutting board that Evelyn whipped out from the cupboard. “Ooh, honey, don’t cut on that.”

Tommie heaved an exasperated sigh. “You’re gonna destroy those knives. Use the wooden board for cutting.”

Evelyn was already done and hurrying out of the kitchen with a bowl of cut-up limes and lemons. Tommie said, looking after her, “She means well.”

“Those knives don’t deserve the treatment they just got.” Lulu clucked.

“Don’t you worry,” Tommie said, “I guard my kitchen from Miss Evelyn’s clutches. She’s got nothing to do with the brunch y’all are about to enjoy.”

 

 

Tommie’s food was manna from heaven. There was a breakfast casserole of eggs, bacon, cheese, and hash browns. The buttered grits on the side were the perfect texture—not too soupy, not too dry. There was a big bowl of peeled, sugared peaches, topped with blueberries. And she’d made the world’s lightest biscuits, which had come straight from the oven.

Lulu felt a nap coming on. “Now this,” said Cherry as she crawled into a convenient hammock there on the porch, “is living.”

Nice to see how the other half lived, thought Lulu. Not many people would opt to have a saltwater pool (complete with underwater barstools and table) right on the lake. Evelyn—or maybe, Tommie—had hung hummingbird feeders right outside the porch.

Cherry gave a contented, “Ahh.”

“Oh, no-no-no! Out of the hammock—it’s time for some fun!”

Cherry groaned. “But an after-brunch nap
is
fun, Evelyn. What planet do you live on?”

“Don’t be grouchy, Cherry.”

“Then let me take a nap! I’ll be a kinder, gentler version of myself.”

Tommie started collecting the empty dishes.

“Tommie, tell Cherry to agree with me.”

Tommie snorted. “Sugar, do yourself a favor and give in. Miss Evelyn
always
gets her way.”

Evelyn pleaded with Cherry, “Tell you what—you can have a nice little naptime right
after
your waterskiing adventure.”

Cherry sat up in the hammock. “We’re going to ski? Okay, I’m in.” She reached out to pluck her helmet from a nearby chair.

Peggy Sue patted her perfectly coiffed curls apologetically. A couple of hours on a boat and you’d never be able to tell she’d spent an hour at the salon yesterday.

The boat was a roomy model that zipped through the water. Evelyn took off a flowing caftan to reveal a widely patterned zebra-inspired suit. She sported large sunglasses and dripped with diamonds. Most of the other Graces had swimsuits with sequins, underwires that did astounding things with their anatomy, and wild colors. Except, that is, for Jeanne. She wore a one-piece that was even more of a granny suit than Lulu’s.

Lulu decided her water-skiing days were over but received full entertainment value for her day by watching the others ski. Evelyn piloted the boat and didn’t ski, but she dangled an arm over the side to feel the spray.

The escape from Memphis had worked a remarkable change in Flo. She was much more like her old self, although a little quieter than usual. Lulu was relieved to see she hadn’t gone wild with the Bloody Marys that morning.

“Both Cherry and Evelyn,” said Flo in a lazy voice, “are completely crazy. Look at them—jewelried to the hilt. And waterskiing and hanging their arms overboard.”

“And Evelyn is even crazier than Cherry,” said Lulu matter of factly.

“How do you figure that?”

“Because Evelyn’s jewelry is
real
.”

Cherry finished skiing, and Evelyn helped pull her back onto the boat. Cherry gave a big whoop. “Now
that
,” she said, “was some real exercise. And a heckuva lot more fun than the treadmill.” She wrapped a huge Elvis towel around her wet swimsuit.

“Time for our picnic!” declared Evelyn.

“
More
food?” asked Lulu, wishing she’d brought a Tums with her.

“Why not? We deserve it! Tommie packed us a bunch of really different things so you can either eat light . . . or pig out like I’m going to do!”

Evelyn took the boat to a shady cove and threw down the anchor. She opened the huge cooler. “See? It’s like a treasure chest.” Sure enough, there were bottles of wine, a corkscrew, Lucite wineglasses, deviled eggs, pasta salad, fried chicken, potato salad, Tommie’s delectable-looking onion pie, and both pimento cheese and vegetable tea sandwiches.

Everyone helped themselves from the cooler, and Evelyn poured them all glasses of wine before finally lounging back and proposing a toast. “To Memphis! And Elvis!”

They all took good-sized gulps from their glasses, even pious Jeanne, who felt it would be somewhat mean-spirited not to drink to Elvis.

“This potato salad,” said Flo, “is the best stuff I’ve ever put in my mouth. Tommie is going to have to share her secret with me.”

“I’m first in line to hear that secret,” said Evelyn. “That’s Tommie’s insurance that I won’t ever get rid of her. If I couldn’t have that potato salad for lunch every day, I’d turn into a shadow of myself.” She tilted her face toward the sun. “Ahh,” she said, chestnut hair gleaming in the sun. “Now this is perfect—wine and gossip.”

“Gossip?” frowned Jeanne. “But we’re not gossiping. Our mouths are full of food.”

“But,” said Evelyn wickedly, “we’re about to
start
gossiping. It’s a girls’ day out, after all. And gossiping can be fun.”

Lulu thought gossiping would be okay, only if it stayed in the territory of the murder. She really didn’t have any interest at all in hearing the dirty laundry of other Graceland aficionados being aired. She hurriedly interjected, “Well, I don’t know if it qualifies as gossip or not, but I can’t seem to stop talking about Rebecca Adrian’s murder, y’all. It was just too close for comfort. And the police don’t seem to really have any leads to find out what happened.”

Lulu quickly found out that her chosen subject of gossip was not appreciated. Flo resumed her haunted look, Jeanne seemed stricken, Peggy Sue looked guilty, Cherry choked on her sandwich, and Evelyn looked gravely disappointed.