Finger Lickin' Dead (4 page)

“Well, you know my Grayson loves his Southern cooking. So one of the things I cooked was some bacon meatloaf. Anything with bacon in it is Southern, you know.”

“Wouldn’t that be hard to reheat later?”

“I make it in muffin tins. That way I can just pull two or three out for each serving. It’s much easier that way,” said Peggy Sue.

“Pure genius,” said Lulu. “I hate cooking for one, but there are some days that I just
have
to have a good meatloaf. I’m going to try your tip tomorrow night.”

Evelyn opened the front door. “Come on in, y’all. Sorry it took so much time to get to the door.” She was dressed in blue jeans and a tee shirt. Lulu blinked at Evelyn’s makeup-free face.

Cherry stared at her. “You sure don’t look like somebody about to go out for an exciting night of Bunko. You don’t even have your eyelashes on.”

“Bertha called me a few minutes ago before I finished getting ready. She said that Charlton had acquired this really revolting stomach flu. I gathered she thought the sound effects wouldn’t be conducive to a fun night of Bunko. And nobody else stepped forward to host it. Want to just hang out here, instead? You could just bring in the food from the car. I guess we’re going to be eating us some spinach dip and appetizers and gossiping ourselves silly.”

“I’ll get the Vidalia onion dip out of the car,” said Lulu.

Evelyn perked up. “That sweet dip? That I ate the whole bowl of last time? Oh, we’re going to have a party, y’all.”

Which they did for a little while. But Cherry got into Evelyn’s chardonnay a little too much and it emboldened her to say, after a short spell of sober hesitation was overcome, “That awful woman came over to talk to us today after you left Aunt Pat’s.”

The other ladies froze.

“That Ginger? She spewed her venom your way, too?” Evelyn’s face grew splotchy. “It’s none of her business anymore. What was she telling y’all? That Adam just wants to date me because of my money?”

“Actually,” said Cherry, “she did
mention
that. But then she also told us that Adam was that vicious food critic who’s gone around ruining everybody’s restaurants. Eppie Currian. I thought Tudy was going to hunt him down and shoot him on the spot. And it was a good thing that Ben was in the kitchen and didn’t hear her.”

“No, no. She’s lying. Adam was a restaurant
owner
when we were married. He doesn’t know how to write a lick.”

“Well, he must’ve figured out how to. Ginger sounded pretty sure about it.” Cherry leaned over, picked her helmet off the floor, and put it in her lap as if it might come in handy.

Evelyn stood up, swaying a little. “I need to go freshen up my drink. Anybody need anything?”

“I think I
need
something, but I’m the unlucky driver, so, no,” said Peggy Sue with a face.

Cherry jumped a little as her phone started buzzing. She read out the text message there. “Guess what, y’all. I just got a message from Flo. She was out on Beale Street picking up some takeout and she saw Adam there with some other woman! He was smooching on her and everything.” She squared her shoulders. “I think we need to get over there. Evelyn’s not going to dump this guy until she sees him cheating on her with her very own eyes.”

Lulu pursed her lips doubtfully. “I don’t know, Cherry. It sounds like a hurtful way of showing her the truth about him. It sounds like she really cares about him.”

“Lulu, I promise you it’ll be the only way to get rid of him. Otherwise who knows what will happen? You know how she gets these crushes on men. And she doesn’t think a thing about getting married. She could end up tying the knot with this guy! On the spur of the moment, on a complete whim, she could hurry him into a divorce and start setting up nuptials for them. No, we’ve got to nip it in the bud before she gets even more attached.”

Evelyn walked back in the room with a full glass of chardonnay and a wary expression.

“Go put on your eyelashes and slap some color on your face, Evelyn! We’re going out to paint the town,” said Cherry.

The rain had finally stopped and Beale Street was alive with people. Neon lights illuminated the street below, blues music spilled out the doors of the restaurants, and people jammed Beale, carrying cups of beer in their hands. The restaurant hawkers stood outside the doorways of the restaurants, calling out the specials and the bands playing to passersby.

“I think,” said Cherry, “that we should start out at the Alley Cat. Just for something a little different.” She fingered her helmet as if trying to decide whether or not she should be wearing it.

Evelyn raised her eyebrows. “That is a little different. Usually we start out at Aunt Pat’s.”

Lulu jumped in, saying, “We were all at Aunt Pat’s earlier, though. Or maybe we can finish up the evening there if we want to.”

“Fine with me,” said Evelyn, shrugging.

Lulu had an ominous feeling as they walked into the Alley Cat. She was never a fan of confrontation and wasn’t totally sold on the idea that this was the best way to convince Evelyn that Adam was no good. After her eyes adjusted to the dark, she saw the place was packed with people. And two of those people were Adam and a bleached blond woman wearing L’Oréal’s entire makeup collection on her face at one time.

Evelyn froze in her tracks. Lulu, Cherry, and Peggy Sue didn’t say a word as Evelyn processed what she was seeing.

“That’s funny. I thought Adam was going to spend tonight at home while I was at Bunko.”

Evelyn was still clearly trying not to believe what she was seeing. Then Adam leaned over and kissed the heavily made-up blonde on the neck. Lulu winced. That wasn’t something that could easily be explained away.

Evelyn walked with great dignity over to Adam, who, unfortunately for him, didn’t see her until she was right in front of him. The other ladies hurried to catch up with her.

“Ginger was right. About
everything
,” said Evelyn. “And I was right the first time around—when I divorced you.”

Adam shrugged. “If that’s what you want to think.”

“It’s not what I
want
to think. But it’s the truth.” Now Evelyn was really getting worked up as she saw the food and drinks in front of Adam and his friend. “This is what I gave you money for today? This?”

Her voice had risen as she spoke. Now people around them were getting really quiet and craning their necks to look over at them. Cherry put her helmet on, nervously. Lulu saw someone who looked like a manager watching Evelyn and Adam from behind the bar.

“Don’t call me, don’t come by, don’t talk to me. I never want to see your freeloading self again. I could string you up by your cheating neck.”

“Let’s just leave, Evelyn,” said Lulu, pulling at Evelyn’s arm.

The manager came up to them. “How about if y’all talk about this outside,” he suggested. “It’d be a more private location to air out any problems you’ve got.” His voice was soft but firm.

“That won’t be necessary,” said Evelyn huffily. “I don’t have anything else to say to this scoundrel.”

 

 

The silence was heavy in Peggy Sue’s car on the way back to Evelyn’s house. Cherry looked guilty at having gotten Evelyn so upset (but also pretty satisfied with the result). Peggy Sue was just focused on the road and sitting real close to the steering wheel because, once again, the rain was pouring. Evelyn was so mad she was shaking, and Lulu was trying frantically to come up with something to say. Something that didn’t have anything to do with what had just happened at the Alley Cat.

Evelyn finally broke the silence. “Stupid! I just can’t believe how
stupid
I was. Everybody kept telling me that Adam was up to no good. I even
divorced
that reprobate once myself. I just couldn’t see what was right in front of me—that he was just freeloading.”

“What I don’t understand,” said Lulu slowly, “is why Adam even
needed
the money. If he’s that restaurant critic from the paper, then he must be doing really well.
Everybody
in Memphis knows her—I mean him.”

Evelyn said, “The reason you don’t know why he needed money, Lulu, is because you’re always satisfied with what you’ve got. You’re content. But people like Adam are never satisfied; they always want more, no matter how much they have. And the newspaper wouldn’t be paying him all that much. All they’re doing over there is slashing jobs and cutting costs and trying to keep afloat. Maybe he’s famous, in an anonymous way, but he’s probably not making a lot of money out of the gig.”

“At least,” said Cherry, “you can wash your hands of him. And you didn’t have to marry him again to find out what a bum he was. Think how expensive that divorce could have ended up being with him as greedy as he is!”

“The only problem?” said Evelyn in a curiously quiet voice. “I want to wring his neck.”

 

 

“Listen to this, Tudy,” said her husband, Oliver, for at least the tenth time that morning. “The number-one reason that the economy faltered during the second quarter of the last . . .”

Tudy gritted her teeth. She’d had thirty years of happy marriage and she’d be damned if it was all going to go up in smoke because of Adam Cawthorn’s snarky carping and their restaurant’s failure. What Oliver needed was some focus. Like another restaurant job.

She
had
to cut him off. Having the entire edition of today’s paper being droned out at you before your second cup of coffee was absolutely unacceptable. Oh, she’d been a good sport about it for the last couple of weeks, but enough was enough.

“Oliver!” she said. He stopped short, mouth still held slackly open and a surprised look in his kind eyes. Now that he was looking at her, she forgot what she was coming up with as a diversion. “Have you . . . Well, have you thought about what I was talking to you about yesterday?”

Oliver looked blankly at her.

“You remember,” she said impatiently. “A new restaurant. There’s this great location that’s opened up right off Beale Street. I think we’d get a lot of foot traffic there. And we could . . .”

He held up a thin hand, stopping her before she could say anything else. “Tudy, it’s no good. I
told
you it wasn’t any good. That lady just eviscerated me in the paper. The same thing is going to happen again. This time the review will read something like, ‘Second Try Falls Short for Oliver Hatley.’ It’s just not going to stop. It feels
personal
.”

Tudy made a face at the word “lady.” “Well, one thing I can tell you. It’s no lady writing these reviews.”

“Right.
Woman
, then. Whatever.”

“No, I mean the restaurant critic is a
man
. It’s Adam Cawthorn. I just found out about it yesterday when I was hanging out at Aunt Pat’s.”

“You
know
him?” Now Oliver’s quiet, sensible demeanor had disappeared, replaced by a fury that Tudy had never seen before from her mild-mannered restaurateur.

“Here, honey,” she said, handing him the paper. “Can you tell me some more about what happened in the second quarter?” But it was too late. Oliver had already stormed out.

 

 

“What is it that you want?” demanded Big Jack. It was better, he decided, to get mad than reveal how baffled and desperate he felt right now.

“I want you to throw the election. Or enjoy knowing that I can throw it just by a few words to the right people. And believe me, I do know who those right people are.”

Big Jack swiped at a trickle of sweat that coursed down the side of his beefy face. “So I’ve been messing around a little bit on my wife. These days, that’s not enough to throw a whole election, Adam. I’ve built myself a platform. I’ve made the rounds. People in Memphis
know
me.”

“How many politicians that you know of have been completely ruined by ‘messing around’? More than we can count on two hands. It seems to indicate, to the electorate, a stunning lack of judgment. No, I’d take a bet that your political career, as you know it, would be over. For good.”

Big Jack lifted up his palms in supplication. “So what is it you
want
? That’s all I’m asking. Are you looking for money?” He knew, deep down, that it was definitely money Adam Cawthorn wanted. And that was worse than political favors. Because money
never
stopped. He’d be paying out for this mistake with that girl for years. And this guy had very expensive tastes—you could tell just by looking at those fancy leather loafers.

Adam gave an unpleasant smile. “I was going to put it a little differently. That I needed you to back me in a business venture that was going to require some regular payments in cash. But, since you like putting things in such a blunt way—yes. Yes, I am looking for money.”

Big Jack had never paid anybody to keep quiet about anything. He was a good old boy who played up the fact that he was no slick politician—but a real person with real faults. It was one of those qualities that he thought endeared him to the voters: he was an everyman. He’d agree that cheating didn’t really fall in the everyman category—at least not one that most men were going to admit to. He was going to have to figure this out. ’Cause he was damned if he was going to put this pretty boy in loafers for the rest of his political career.

 

 

Cherry rang Evelyn’s doorbell and waited. A few minutes later she buzzed it again. She’d seen the Navigator
and
the convertible in the driveway and knew darned well that Evelyn was home. And doing her best to avoid her. Cherry had a strong suspicion that Evelyn was working her way through a gallon of chocolate mint ice cream. And she might possibly need rescuing.

Finally the front door opened, revealing Evelyn’s housekeeper, Tommie, with a disapproving frown on her face.

“What in the name of goodness are you thinking, Miss Cherry? You think we’re deaf or something? Most folks take a hint and leave when nobody answers the doorbell.”