Hickory Smoked Homicide (6 page)

Lulu snapped her fingers. “I see. So the power going out was a cover to get the murderer back in with the other guests and escape detection. But then the killer would have to be someone who knew the house well enough to know where the fuse box was.”

“Actually,” said Pink, “we’ve discovered that the lights went out completely naturally. When the storm blew in, there was a car out on the main road that skidded and hit a transformer and knocked out the lights. It looks like even luck was on our killer’s side.”

Lulu nodded. “Especially if the lights going out corresponded to the moment the murderer needed to leave the scene of the crime. Getting out of that room could have been tough because there was a line for the restroom not too far from Tristan’s bedroom.”

“There are definitely some folks I need to talk to,” said Pink, standing up and giving his khaki pants a hitch up. “Like Colleen. She sure was breathing fire about Tristan at Aunt Pat’s. She definitely thought that Tristan was doing Pansy wrong.”

“True,” said Lulu, “but Colleen wasn’t even invited to the party, for that very reason.”

“That may be so,” said Pink smoothly, “but there’s also such a thing as party
crashing
. So I’m not going to let Miss Colleen completely off the hook.”

Lulu suddenly felt a great longing for her brass bed and comfy quilt. “Pink, hon, is it okay for me to slide out of here now? I think I’m ready to grab Sara and go back home.”

Pink was just telling her it was okay when the man in charge of the case, a wiry, middle-aged detective named Freeman, said quickly, “Absolutely—I have one more question to ask you. Do you have any reason to want Tristan Pembroke dead, Mrs. Taylor?”

He certainly believed in getting to the point. Lulu shook her head. “No, killing people isn’t my way of solving problems, Detective. I didn’t have a whole lot of respect for Tristan, and she did rile up a few people I knew, but that was just her way.”

“We’ll get in touch with you if we have any more questions,” the detective said in a clipped voice. Pink shrugged at her. Lulu guessed that as the person who discovered the body, she shouldn’t be surprised by getting a few questions.

“Oh, and where are the rest of the guests now? I know y’all needed to clear everybody out so you could protect whatever evidence was here.”

Pink said, “We ended up blocking off the street and have them all out there. We needed to ask some of them questions and asked all the guests if they saw or heard anything that might help us out. You rode here with Sara, you were saying?”

“I did. And Steffi did, too. I’ll look for her outside, then,” said Lulu, picking up her pocketbook and feeling proud that she had the presence of mind to get it, considering all the events of the evening.

“Actually,” said Detective Freeman quickly, “Sara Taylor is one of the guests we’re most wanting to talk to. When you find her, please send her our way.”

Lulu felt that queasy stomach sensation again. “That doesn’t sound good. What do you want Sara for?”

“I got some witness accounts of an altercation between Sara Taylor and Tristan. I need to ask her a few questions about it,” he said.

Pink’s normally sunny face looked a little worried. “Say, Lulu, were y’all in Sara’s car? That yellow minivan she usually drives?”

“We sure were. Why?”

“Because I didn’t see it out there. And I looked for a few minutes when Detective Freeman said he wanted to talk to Sara.”

Lulu said in a more confident voice than she felt, “Oh pooh. Sara’s not going to have gone off and stranded me somewhere. I’ll go track her down. I’ll be sure to send her your way before we take off for home.”

That ended up being easier said than done. Lulu had no luck finding Sara in the group of party guests who hadn’t gone home yet. Cherry hadn’t seen her. Steffi hadn’t seen her. And Lulu didn’t see hide nor hair of that yellow minivan.

Lulu decided to call Sara. Maybe she’d realized she was running low on gas or something and had gone to fill up while Lulu was being questioned. Lulu pulled out her cell phone and punched in Sara’s number. There was no answer, so Lulu left a message. Now she was worried.

Cherry came over and gave her a hug. “Still can’t find her? Don’t worry, Lulu, we’ll figure out what happened. I’m sure it’s some really ordinary explanation that we’ll all be laughing over. Why don’t you call Ben and see if she’s just gotten in a fog and forgotten y’all rode together? Maybe she went home and turned off her phone and went to bed.”

When Lulu rang Ben and Sara’s house, though, he hadn’t heard a word from her. And he was just as alarmed as Lulu.

Although Cherry had offered to drop her off by the house, Lulu stuck around at Tristan’s house until Ben came. Together they drove around the area until they found a very frustrated-looking Sara struggling with the car jack and a flat tire.

“Sara, you scared the life out of Mother and me!” fussed Ben as he lumbered out of the car. “We didn’t know what had happened to you. And why in Sam Hill didn’t you answer your cell phone when we were trying to call you? I thought that’s the whole point of carrying one—for emergencies.”

Sara sat back on her heels away from the tire and pushed a sweaty tendril of curly red hair out of her eyes with irritation. “I know! It was all so stupid. Tristan and I had this big blowup over the portrait. I was so furious that I actually saw red—and I thought that was just a figure of speech. I was worried what I was going to say or do, so I decided to get out in my car and go for a quick drive . . . and get out of there. I promise I wasn’t planning on abandoning you and Steffi, Lulu. Then, naturally, Murphy’s Law—I get a flat. And this tire just did
not
want to change. As far as the cell phone goes, I left my purse at the party by accident. The cell is on vibrate, anyway. So I don’t even have my driver’s license with me. Good thing the police didn’t stop by and try to be Good Samaritans.”

Lulu thought that maybe Sara was going to be in far worse trouble with the police than driving without a license. “Unfortunately, sweetie, your night isn’t over yet. I didn’t even have a chance to tell Ben yet, either, because we were both so worried about you.”

“Tell me what?” demanded Ben, frowning.

“Tristan was murdered during the party,” said Lulu. “The police heard about Sara’s argument with her—and they want to talk to Sara. I think it’ll be much worse if we go back home; they’ll probably think Sara’s trying to hide something. Besides, we’ve got to go back and get Steffi.”

Sara groaned. “Can this night get any worse? And—Tristan’s
dead
? I promise, y’all, she was alive and kicking—practically literally—when she and I were having our big fight. Whoever murdered her, it wasn’t me. In fact, I was probably out here driving around when she was killed.”

“I believe you, honey—and let’s keep our fingers crossed that the police will, too.”

 

 

Lulu dragged herself around the house the next morning, getting ready. Ordinarily she’d call herself an early-morning person, but after the night she’d had, six hours wasn’t enough sleep to recuperate.

The police, reflected Lulu on the drive over to Aunt Pat’s, weren’t as understanding as you’d think. Oh, Pink had winced and nodded sympathetically, but clearly this wasn’t his case. It was that Detective Freeman’s. And he had this look of complete disbelief on his face during Sara’s entire story. Hadn’t he ever met anybody who needed to cool off after an argument? Or had a flat tire? Or known somebody to forget her cell phone and not be reachable? Where was the portrait that had caused such a ruckus? How could a big painting like that go missing? It made Lulu grouchy just thinking about it—and Lulu was rarely grouchy in the morning. Her grouchiness made her even grouchier. On top of it all, she wasn’t feeling all that alert, so after she unlocked the door, she made herself some coffee at the restaurant, first thing.

She blinked in surprise as Steffi Pembroke came in through the back door. “Steffi? Honey, what are you doing here? Did I wake you up this morning when I was trying to get ready? I’m sure I made enough noise to wake the dead—I was
that
tired and stumbling all over. I’m so sorry about what happened to your mom last night. And you certainly shouldn’t be here working today! In fact, you should take this next week off altogether.”

Steffi rubbed her eyes. “It was okay, Lulu—I couldn’t sleep. I was up all night thinking about Mother. I know people hated her, but . . .” she shrugged, her voice breaking off. “I feel terrible because she and I had that big argument, and now she’s dead. I hate that some of our last words to each other were so cold.” Steffi’s shoulders sank.

Lulu’s heart hurt for Steffi. The poor lamb felt bad about acting ugly to her mama—but her mama had acted ugly to her for her whole life . . . even when she was just a baby. So Lulu was quick to say, “And your mama’s last words to you?”

Steffi looked confused.

Lulu said, “I mean, was she all sugar and spice during that last conversation?”

“Not really,” Steffi said slowly.

“Well, then,” said Lulu with a sniff. “I wouldn’t feel so bad about myself. It’s not like your mama was taking the high road.” But Steffi still looked worried and Lulu said, “Why not tell me a little about what happened last night, honey?”

Steffi walked into the restaurant’s office and sat down. “Sorry. I’m so tired I think I need to take a load off my feet. Maybe I’m not fit for waitressing today, after all,” she said with a short laugh. “I guess I should never have gone to the party last night. I’d just decided the best way to get back at Mother and really get under her skin was to show up at the party and kind of hang around. That was going to make her more unhappy than anything else.”

Lulu said gently, “But you looked like the most unhappy person there, Steffi. I felt so bad for you.”

Steffi’s head hung down until her lank hair partially hid her face. “I know. That’s the way it always is. I always think that Mother is going to care, and it ends up just being me who gets hurt. The way she was talking to the blues band, looking at me with her cold stare—I couldn’t stand it. I should have remembered that it’s impossible to hurt
her
. But still . . . I hate that we ended our relationship on that note. I never wanted anything more than to get along with her.”

Lulu reached over and gave Steffi a hug. “You know, I bet your mother felt the same way, deep down. It’s such a shame that y’all were never able to have it become a reality. Tell you what? Why don’t you head back to the house? It’ll be nice and quiet there today since I’m here, working. Just lie back on the sofa and read a book or watch a little TV. I made a peach cobbler yesterday that I bet you’d love. Or maybe take a couple of naps—I know you need to catch up on your sleep.”

Once again those intense eyes of Steffi’s caught her off-guard. “Please don’t send me home, Lulu. I don’t feel like being by myself today. I know it makes sense to rest, but I can maybe leave a couple of hours earlier than my usual shift, right? I’m sure I’ll be tired out in another six hours—then I’ll be ready to crash. And eat some peach cobbler.”

“Of course, honey,” Lulu said quickly. “Whatever you need to do.”

The back door to the restaurant opened again, and Ben and Sara were there, looking about as tired as Lulu felt. “Seems like I was just here,” muttered Ben. “Wonder if lack of sleep makes mental time warps?”

Sara opened her mouth to make, Lulu was sure, a sharp retort when she suddenly noticed Lulu and Steffi in the office. “Oh mercy,” she said, coming up and giving Steffi a hug. “I am so, so sorry.” Sara gave Lulu a confused look. “Isn’t Steffi taking the day off?”

Chapter 6

Lulu was sure that everyone who came to Aunt Pat’s that day wondered why Steffi didn’t have the day off. But although Lulu had wondered if sleep would have been the better solution for Steffi, the waitressing seemed to work out just fine. It ended up being a big day at the restaurant, with lots of tourists stopping in for a bite, so Steffi probably didn’t have enough time to think about anything but keeping orders and tabs straight and checking up on her tables.

Steffi was about to shift off for the day when Lulu noticed a handsome man with dark hair coming through the door of the restaurant. Her breath caught a little. It was the man from last night—the one that Tristan had been pushing away from her. Loren.

Sure enough, he didn’t want to be seated when the hostess asked him how many were in his party. Instead, he said something short to the hostess as his narrowed eyes combed over the restaurant.

Lulu hurried over to the door. “Can I help you with something, sir?”

Up close she could tell how pinched the man’s features were, as if he were completely exhausted. “Is Sara Taylor here? I wanted to speak with her.”

Lulu nodded. “Yes, she’s here. But she’s got her hands full with customers right now—there’s four or five of her tables that are trying to get their checks. Tell you what—why don’t you have a seat in the office for a few minutes; then she can come join you.” Lulu planned to be joining the two of them, too. After seeing what happened in Tristan’s kitchen yesterday, Lulu had no intention of letting him have private time in the Aunt Pat’s office with her daughter-in-law.

It took a good fifteen minutes for Sara to be able to pull away from the dining room. Lulu had half hoped that he’d have given up and headed back to patch things up with his wife. But part of her did want to hear what he had to say—particularly if it was about last night. She couldn’t for the life of her imagine what kind of business he’d have with Sara.

Sara walked into the office, pulling her apron off and laying it on her lap as she plopped down on the sofa. “Sorry it took a while to wrap everything up, Mr. . . . I’m sorry; I don’t think I know you.” Sara’s freckled face looked completely perplexed.

“I’m Loren Holman. I was at the party last night—the one at Tristan Pembroke’s,” he added, as if Sara would have been at more than one party that night. Lulu noticed that his voice caught a little on Tristan’s name.