Lethal Lasagna (13 page)

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Authors: Rhonda Gibson

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Cozy, #Culinary, #Women Sleuths

BOOK: Lethal Lasagna
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“You found people who didn’t like her?” She leaned forward.

It dawned on me, she’d relay any information I gave her to Detective Howard. Maybe I should drop a couple of names and let him look into them. “Darlene Lowery was jealous of Mitzi but like I said, it probably wasn’t enough to kill her over.”

I watched as she mentally repeated the name to herself several times before commenting. “Maybe not. Is she the only person?”

Pretending to look at another book, I tried to sound off-handed with my answer. “No, there is a couple in the creative writing class at the college that had words with her. It could have just been an age difference thing with them though. You know how young people are. I’m sure it was nothing.” The way her eyes lit up, I knew Detective Howard would be hearing from Ms. Cooper soon.

I put away the book. “It was nice talking to you, Laura. Thanks for the books.” As I walked off she was flipping her cell phone open.

TITLE

Lethal Lasagna
Chapter 21

When I turned around, Sara stood in front of me. “I thought you were right behind me.” She crossed her arms over her chest. For a moment, I felt as if she were scolding me. Then a smile broke out across her face. “Come on. I want to show you something.” She grabbed one arm and pulled me down the next aisle.

I noted she’d exchanged the cardboard box for a big fabric shopping bag decorated with sunflowers and sequins. It hung from her arm and swung between us as she dragged me along.

We passed the lady who sold the shopping bags. I made a mental note to go back and buy one of them. Sara stopped so suddenly that I ran right into her back.

I looked around the booth and realized we were in the salt and pepper shaker kingdom. There were all kinds of collectible shakers.

“Aren’t these great?” She asked, picking up a set of pig salt and pepper shakers shaped like miniature chefs. They were pink with white hats and coats and each sported black and white checkered scarves and aprons.

“Yes they are. Look at these.” I pointed out a frog and princess. The princess was bent down to give the frog a kiss.

Sara smiled. “I like those, too but since I collect pig shakers I think I’ll keep to these.” She paid the woman for them.

I picked up the frog and noted that the price was only three dollars for the set. Thinking Megan would enjoy them, I paid for mine. We waited while the woman wrapped them in tissue and placed them in a plastic bag.

It dawned on me that we’d just started, and I was already holding three plastic bags. Sara must have noticed, too because she said, “Did you see the bag lady back there? She has all kinds of shopping bags for sale. They sure help when you have several items.”

“Thanks. I think you’re right. I’ll go back and get one.”

She looked forward. “Do you mind if I move on? I’ll stay on this aisle, if you want me to wait for you.”

Her tone reminded me of a little girl asking permission from her mother to be allowed to wander away. “Not at all. Enjoy yourself.” I glanced down at my watch. “How about we meet at the hot dog stand in an hour? That way you can shop at the stands you want, and then we can revisit our favorites if we want to.”

Sara grinned. “Sounds good to me, meet you in an hour.” And then she was gone.

I returned to the stand with the bags. Each one seemed unique in its own manner. I sorted through them and asked myself which one I really liked. It seemed I usually went with what was cheapest or what I thought others expected of me. This time I wanted something I would really like.

A pink bag with fake cherry-colored fringe caught my eye. I pulled it out from several other bags and was delighted to see that it had a pink flamingo on the front in the same cherry coloring as the fringe. This was my kind of bag.

“That’s a good choice,” the sales lady said as I handed her the bag. She pulled off the tag. “That will be eighty dollars.”

I swallowed my tongue. Okay, not really, but eighty dollars? You said you wanted to buy something you liked no matter the cost, I reminded myself as I handed over the check. I also thanked the Lord for the large insurance policy my husband had taken out, and my retirement fund.

“Do you want me to wrap this up for you?” the woman asked.

I put the checkbook back in my handbag. “No thanks, I’ll carry it.” When she offered it back, I put my other purchases inside along with the cumbersome pocketbook. Now my hands were free once more.

Each new aisle held wonders from the past and treasures of today. One lady carried nothing but crystals. Her booth sat beside one of the few windows in the building. The jewels reflected the lights sending colors about the area. Something niggled at my memory but was to far away to grasp.

A little dog drew my attention. It looked a lot like Sprocket. I reached out to pick it up.

“You don’t want that one.” Air whispered over my ear and tickled the hair around it. Electricity sparkled around us, and I knew without looking who had just eased up behind me.

The desire to lean into him tugged at me but I resisted. I placed both hands on my hips and turned to face him. “And just why is that, Professor Harvest?” He stood so close we touched.

He laughed and stepped back. Was that a hint of red that had just crept into his handsome cheeks. “Because I have already purchased him for you.” Brandon extended his hand and the little dog seemed to wink at me.

The light reflected in both the dog’s and Brandon’s eyes. New electricity flickered between us. “You did?” The question came out a whisper.

He nodded and continued to extend the glass toward me.

To cover the breathlessness, I spoke a little louder than I intended. “Why?” Not the most graceful acceptance of a gift. I took it into my hand and attempted to smile and take the sting from my demand.

Brandon leaned close and whispered against my lips, “Because we’re friends.” He stood to his full height and continued. “Plus, he looks just like Sprocket, don’t you think so?”

“Yes. That’s why I was going to buy him.” I touched the finely shaped head. Savoring that feeling of excitement that only Brandon could ignite.

He touched the side of my face. “Now you don’t have to.”

“Thank you.” Oh my! Please don’t tell me that was not my voice. I sounded like a love struck girl. Surely it wasn’t mine. Surely.

Once more he leaned close. “You’re welcome.”

It surprised me when he rubbed his nose against mine and then moved to look at a clear dolphin that seemed to be jumping from the ocean into the air. What had I expected? Another kiss? Wasn’t it me who wanted to be just friends?

I glanced at my watch and realized an hour had passed. “Brandon, I need to go meet Sara at the hot dog stand.”

His stomach growled, and he laughed. “I’ll come with you.”

We walked down an aisle filled with an assortment of toys and electronics. Several times I noticed Brandon pausing. “After we eat a hot dog, would you like to come back down this row and look at some of the newfangled gadgets?”

He looped his arm in mine and stepped up our pace. “That is the best idea you’ve had all day.”

Fresh air entered the building as someone opened the door. I turned to see Martha slipping outside. Had she been waiting to see if Brandon were with me? Surely the woman wasn’t stalking us.

Sara stood waiting for us when we arrived. She looked from Brandon to me. “Hello, Mr. Harvest.”

“Call me Brandon.”

Sara ignored him and turned to the girl selling hot dogs. “I’ll have two dogs, a bag of chips, and a grape soda.”

“Was it something I said?” He mouthed to me.

I shrugged. Sara seemed the odd sort. She tended to get upset at the drop of a hat, and a few moments later, she’d be as sweet as maple syrup on a Sunday morning.

Sara paid for her food, took a number, and then stepped aside for Brandon to place his order.

“Claire, what would you like?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.

I smiled at Sara. “I’ll have what Sara ordered; only I just need one hot dog.”

She smiled back. Her number was called, and she stepped forward. “Where do you want to sit?” she asked.

Several tables were empty, so I pointed to the one furthest away from the stand. “How about there?”

“I’ll save you a seat.”

Brandon joined me once more. “What are you going to do after this?”

“Going home for a nap. You?”

Our number was called. We both stepped forward and took the food. “I’ll go to the house for a few minutes, and then I’m going to head out to my place to finish a rocking chair.”

Brandon pulled out a seat for me and then took one himself. “This place has really grown since the last time I was here.”

I smiled. “I told Sara the same thing.”

“You two really should get out more.” She pounded her bag of chips with a balled fist.

I jumped.

“Sorry about that. I like them in small pieces.” Her cheeks were flushed with color. “Sometimes I forget my own strength.”

Brandon unwrapped one of his hot dogs. “No harm done.”

I opened a packet of mustard. “Did you discover any more good finds, Sara?”

She looked up from her food. “I bought a book.”

“What’s it about?” Brandon asked, biting into his meal.

“A man who spends his life chasing a whale.” She wadded up her paper wrapper and poured chips from the bag into her mouth.

“Moby Dick?” I asked.

“Yep, I loved that book as a kid. It brought back childhood memories, so I bought it.” She tipped her grape bottle back and finished the liquid off.

Sara seemed to be a woman who enjoyed the things of the past. She’d kept her father’s old truck for sentimental reasons and bought a book with her childhood in mind. I decided she must have had a good childhood if she wanted to hang onto it like she did.

“Are you ready, Claire?”

The question took me by surprise. I looked down at my untouched meal. “A...I was planning on looking about some more. But if you’re ready to go ...”

Brandon cleared his throat. “I’ll be happy to take you home, Claire.”

I looked into his warm chocolate eyes. “That would be nice.”

“Fine. Then I’m out of here.” Sara pushed back her chair, picked up the sunflower bag, and headed for the exit. On the way, she tossed her trash in a can and then hit the door with both hands to open it.

“That is one odd duck.” Brandon said as he picked up his hot dog and took a big bite off one end.

I nibbled on a chip. “Maybe I should have gone with her.” I felt like I’d gone to a party with one date and left with another. A weird way to look at it, but the only method to explain how I felt at the moment.

“Why don’t you buy her something to make it up to her?” Brandon wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“That’s a great idea. I know she likes drinking tea, and I saw a lady selling all kinds at one of the booths.” I smiled at the kindness he generated toward others.

We spent the next two hours going from booth to booth. There were a lot of them that didn’t hold our interest for more than a passing glance but there were others that one or both of us stayed at for quiet a while.

I left with a new spice tea for Sara to try and a cute teacup to go with it. Little pink pigs danced around the side. It was just too cute to pass up. At another stall, I found a bag and tissue paper to wrap them up.

Brandon placed the new tools he’d purchased in the bed of his truck and helped me load my things in the back seat. “That was fun,” he offered as he held the passenger door open for me.

“I thought so, too.” He closed the door behind me. A true gentleman, I reflected, clicking my seatbelt into place. The scent of coconut oil filled the truck. It reminded me of summer days at the pool.

He climbed into the cab. His cell phone rang. I sat politely as he took the call and tried not to eavesdrop.

“Oh, really?”

No, not listening. Looking at the bird in that tree.

He turned the key and started the truck. The air conditioner felt good against my warm face.

“Will you alert the students?”

Alert them to what? No, not listening. Focus on the car with all the doors open.

“Okay. That should work. Thanks for letting me know, Bob.” He winked at me.

Crazy man. I felt the heat in my cheeks intensify.

“Good. Bye.” He snapped the phone closed, and then turned to stare at me with those beautiful chocolate eyes. “Would you go on a date with me tonight?”

Okay, I wasn

t expecting that.

TITLE

Lethal Lasagna
Chapter 22

He held up his hand as I opened my mouth. I’m not sure what I was going to say but felt relieved that he’d stopped me.

“That was the dean at the school. Classes have been cancelled tonight because of some sort of electrical problem. So, the singles group at church meets tonight, and I wondered if you’d go with me.” He gasped for breath.

I simply looked at him. Coconut surrounded us and the air conditioner cooled the air. Was he asking for a real date? Or was this a friendship date? It had been so long since I’d dated, maybe they were the same.

He opened his mouth to speak. “If you already planned to go, we could just ride together. Plus, I don’t want to leave you alone after dark. What do you say? It’ll be fun.” Red color filled his neck and moved up his face.

This time it was my turn to hold up a hand. “Since you put it like that, I’d love to go.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean...I mean ...”

I laughed. “Don’t hurt yourself, Brandon. I said I’d go. Do you really care what my reasons for going are?”

He put the pickup in reverse. His arm went over the back of the seat. For a brief moment, his fingers played in my hair. “I guess not.”

Looking into his face, I decided I needed a better hair conditioner. One that would leave my hair silky soft.

Ten minutes later, he dropped me off at the house. Brandon handed my bags to me. “Don’t forget. I’ll be back at six to pick you up.” He touched the side of my face and smiled.

I leaned my cheek into the palm of his warm hand. He pulled it away and hurried around the front of the pickup. Just before he got in, I called, “Is this dress or casual?”

“Casual. We’re having pizza for dinner and playing board games all night.” He waved goodbye and backed out of the drive.

Sprocket barked a hello, bringing me out of the romantic cloud I found myself floating in. Who was I kidding?

Determined not to go there with my thoughts I turned to smile at the dog.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sara’s living room curtain fall into place. I knelt down and patted Sprocket through the fence. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, ole boy. I have a gift to deliver, and then we’ll go in the house to cool off and have a nice nap. How’s that sound?”

He bumped my hand with his head. “Thanks, I’ll be right back.”

I crossed the driveway and followed the sidewalk to Sara’s front door. A new sunflower wreath hung on the door. Its flowers and leaves looked fresh and inviting.

Sara opened the door. A frown marred her smooth features. “Is everything okay?” She asked, looking toward my house.

“Everything’s fine. I felt bad for this morning and wanted to come by and drop off a thank you gift. It was nice going to the flea market.” I held the package out to her.

She eyed it suspiciously. “You didn’t have to buy me a gift.”

“I know. But I wanted to.” I jiggled the bag. “I think you’ll like what’s inside.”

A smile touched her face and softened her features. “Thanks.” She took the bag. “Come on in and I’ll open it.”

I followed her into a living room similar to my own. Only she didn’t have the large screened-in porch. Cinnamon filled the air. She moved to an oversized couch and sat down.

“Please, have a seat.” She indicated the matching chair that sat off to the right of the couch.

While she pulled out the paper, I glanced about. Bookshelves lined the room. I realized no pictures of her family decorated the small area. In my house, photos of Megan and Greg filled every available space.

“Oh Claire, this is great!”

I turned my attention back to her. She held the pumpkin spiced tea in one hand and the cup in the other.

“There’s a saucer that goes with the cup in the very bottom of the bag,” I offered, happy to see she was delighted with the present.

Sara set the cup on the coffee table. “Would you like to see my collection?” She had already gotten up and headed through a door at the back of the room.

As if I had a choice. I followed. “Do you collect teacups, too?” I asked, catching up with her in the first bedroom.

“No, this is my salt and pepper collection.”

Hundreds of small pig-shaped salt and pepper shakers filled numerous shelves along the back wall. Speechless, I moved to stand in front of them. The pigs came in all shapes, sizes, and colors. Some were dressed as farmers, musicians; all sorts of occupations were represented. I even saw pig sets that were dressed like Civil War heroes.

“These are awesome.”

“Thanks. If I keep getting them, I’m going to have to build another shelf.” She turned to leave the room. I would have enjoyed looking at them some more, but it was obvious the viewing had come to an end. As I left the room, the sunshine cast light off something and it hit me in the eyes. With all the different styles of shakers, I didn’t doubt that she had silver ones in there, too.

Sara shut the door behind us. Once more she led the way. “Thanks again, Claire. I love the pig teacup.” A smile spread across her face. “I might have to start looking for various cups with pigs on them.”

I walked the remainder of the way to the door. “I’m glad you like it. I’d better get on over to the house. Sprocket and I are going to get out of this heat.” I indicated the pink bag on my arm. “As you can see, I just got back from the market. Thanks again for inviting me this morning. It was fun.”

“Maybe we can go again when Mr. Hart gives me another Saturday off. It seems I don’t get them but once every six weeks.” She walked out onto the porch with me.

“It’s a date.” I waved goodbye and hurried to my own house. A date. I have a date with Brandon Harvest. What am I going to wear?

****

At five-thirty I stood in front of my full-length mirror. It had taken all afternoon, but I’d finally settled on a light blue skirt with a darker blue top. As always, my first choice had been pink, but it was a fun color, and this date wasn’t suppose to be fun. I’d decided earlier that it would be a date to learn more about the people in Mitzi’s life. Not a date to pursue a man.

“I look drab.” I said to the reflection.

A glance into my jewelry case produced a large floral pin. Normally it wasn’t one I’d wear. For some reason, the pink flowers and green petals always clashed with the top I’d chosen. I pinned it into place and smiled.

The blue from the top brought out the color in my eyes, and the pink flowers in the pin gave me a sense of well being. Don’t ask me why pink makes me feel good, it just does. I strapped on a pair of white sandals and looked at the many purses Mitzi had left behind.

I should have put them in the giveaway bag, but knew they were all expensive and since they were every color of the rainbow, I could use them. A light blue one with green leaves embroidered on the front caught my eye. I dumped the contents of my own pocketbook onto the bed and rearranged it in the blue.

Pulling it onto my shoulder, I glanced at the clock once more. Fifteen minutes. I still had fifteen minutes. I walked to the bathroom and wiped off my sweaty palms. I’d forgotten how nervous investigating Mitzi’s murder made me. It’s not the murder and you know it. “Oh, shut up.” I told the bleached blonde in the mirror.

The doorbell rang. I stuck my tongue out at the reflection and hurried down the hallway. Brandon was early.

I pulled the door open with what I hoped was my most charming smile. It faded as my brain related to the rest of me that Brandon looked a lot like Detective Howard.

“Mrs. Parker.” He tipped his hat. “May I come in? I have a few questions for you.”

The driveway stood empty except for his patrol car. “I guess so.”

He stepped past me. “This shouldn’t take long.”

A sigh escaped my parted lips. “Please, sit down.”

“Naw, I can see you are on your way out. I’ve asked you to stay out of Mitzi’s case, but it has come to my attention that you are still nosing around. Is that correct?”

Pulling myself up to my five foot two inches, I answered. “Yes, I’ve asked a few questions.”

“I see.” He ran his hand over his buzz cut. “What makes you think Darlene Lowery might be our murderer?” He pulled out a small notebook.

If he wasn’t going to sit down, I was. I moved around him and sat on the couch. “I didn’t say Darlene murdered her. I said, Darlene was jealous of her, but I’m not sure that is enough to kill for.”

He jotted my words down in his book. “I see.” His gaze met mine. “Just so you know, people have killed for a lot less.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “So I’ve been told.”

He licked the tip of his pencil. It reminded me of something my grandfather did when I was a kid. His steely gaze locked on me once more. “Can you give me the names of the couple who argued with her and what they were quarrelling about?”

“Yes and no.” I waited. What was it about this man that set me on edge and made me act like a delinquent teenager?

He sighed. “Which is it?”

It took all I could muster to push my rebellious nature to the side and answer. “I only know their first names.”

He nodded.

“Karen and Jack. Brandon will know their full names. They’re in his creative writing class.” I answered.

He made more notes on the small pad. “What was the argument about?”

I heard Brandon’s pickup pull into the driveway. At least, I hoped it was him. “That is a question for them. Sadie didn’t say, and I didn’t think to ask.”

His lips twitched as he wrote down this new piece of evidence. “You know, a good detective asks all the questions.”

“Why, Detective Howard, that’s the first time you’ve indicated you thought I was good.” I batted my lashes and attempted to look innocent. I swear, I think I heard the man growl at me.

“What’s going on?” Brandon asked, opening the screen and coming on into the room. He looked nice in blue jeans and what looked like a freshly pressed caramel colored shirt.

Detective Howard shook his head. “Mr. Harvest, I need the names of two of your students.” He ordered.

Brandon arched an eyebrow. “Is that so? Which two?” From his tone, I could see the good detective rubbed Brandon the wrong way, too.

If the officer noticed, he gave no indication of it as he consulted his notes. “Karen and Jack.” He looked expectantly at Brandon.

“Karen Moore and Jack Carr. They are on that class list I gave you.” He paused and then asked. “Are they in some sort of trouble?”

Detective Howard shut his notebook and stuffed it back in his shirt pocket. “We got a tip today and need to ask a few questions of them, that’s all. Thank you both for your cooperation.”

He shoved the pencil behind the notebook, and then raised one eyebrow at me. “Claire, leave the detective work to us.” Detective Howard put his hat back on and left the room. And, the door slammed behind him before I could remind him that if it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t know who to question.

Brandon turned to face me. “Now, what was that about?”

TITLE

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