The Calamity Café Page 5

  We were saved from commenting further when Pete came into the kitchen.

  Jackie gave him a brief hug. “I’m really sorry about your momma.”

  “Thanks. Amy. As soon as I can get Chris Anne to move her car, we can go.”

  “Go?” Ms. Green asked. “Go where?”

  “To pick out Momma’s casket. Amy’s gonna help me.”

  “We can take my car,” I offered.

  He looked relieved. “I appreciate that. Ms. Green, we shouldn’t be too long.”

  “I’ll hold down the fort.” She smiled and patted his shoulder.

  “And I’ll help her,” Jackie said.

  As Pete and I walked out to my car, I wondered why he hadn’t solicited Chris Anne for this job, since she was his girlfriend.

  “I’m grateful to you for doing this,” he said as I pulled away from the curb. “Momma always appreciated your opinions.”

  That was hogwash, and we both knew it. But I kept that to myself. No need to speak ill of the dead.

  “Chris Anne said she felt like she didn’t know Momma well enough to help with the arrangements,” he continued. “But I wanted a woman’s opinion. I’ve never been good at picking out things.”

  Is anyone good at choosing a casket? “I understand,” I mumbled.

  “I guess I could’ve asked Ms. Green, but Momma always thought she was kind of a busybody.”

  So Pete’s choices had come down to a busybody and an upstart, as far as his mother was concerned. I suppose upstarts inched out busybodies in Pete’s social hierarchy.

  “I still want to go after my dream of driving a truck,” he continued. “Me and Chris Anne thought maybe we could get married and buy a truck and go into business for ourselves. A lot of couples do that.”

  “I seem to have heard that somewhere.”

  “Chris Anne can learn to drive a truck in no time flat and get her commercial driver’s license. I already know how to drive a big rig. All I have to do is take the test and get certified.”

  “That’s great,” I said. “I hope it works out for you.”

  “Me too.” He paused. “So, naturally, I’ll be selling Lou’s Joint . . . and . . . uh . . . I was wondering if you’re still interested in buying.”

  Was Pete really this crass? Hey, Amy, let’s go pick out my mother’s casket and talk business at the same time. Or were his supposed shock and grief over his mother’s death for the benefit of the police? Or maybe he was simply awkward . . . or, as we used to say, “backward” socially.

  “I am, Pete. But we can talk more about that in a few days when everything is settled.”

  “You mean, like the will? I talked to Billy Hancock, and Momma didn’t leave no will.”

  “Actually, I meant we should give it a few days so you can recover from the blow of losing your mother so suddenly and be absolutely sure about what you want to do.”

  “Oh, I am sure,” Pete said. “But I reckon you’ve got a point. We ought to get the funeral out of the way and everything before we talk business.”

  “Right.” He’d certainly seemed to have recovered from his shock and grief much more quickly than I’d expected. Or maybe he was using the business of selling the café and buying a truck as a way to get his mind off his mother’s death.

  “By the way, Sheriff Billings called, and we’re clear to open the Joint back starting tomorrow morning. Would you care to man the grill for the first shift?”

  “Of course. In fact, I can work both shifts. No one expects you to come back to work before you’re ready, Pete.”

  “I’ll see how I’m feeling tomorrow. Between you and me, I wouldn’t step foot in Momma’s office again for love or money.” He shuddered. “You shouldn’t need anything from in there to run the café, though.”

  “What about money for the cash register?” I asked. “Didn’t Lou Lou keep that money in the safe in her office?”

  “Yeah. I’ll swing by the bank and get you enough to make change.”

  We arrived at the funeral home, which was a gray stone Colonial home built more than a hundred years ago. As such, it was reputed to be haunted, which is one reason the place freaked out Jackie. Every building a century old (some even less) in Winter Garden was said to be haunted.

  When we stepped inside, the thought crossed my mind that maybe Lou Lou’s ghost had joined the ranks of the funeral home’s restless spirits. I shuddered. Somebody just walked over my grave.

  * * *

  Upon returning to Pete’s house, Jackie was as glad to see me as I was to see her.

  “Get me out of here,” she whispered.

  “Why don’t we go by your place and grab a few things and you can stay over?” I asked on the way to the car. “I’d rather not be by myself tonight.”

  “Works for me. I’d rather not be alone either with thoughts of Lou Lou’s death and the funeral home and Ms. Green’s talk about killers so fresh in my mind. I believe that woman quoted statistics on everyone from Jack the Ripper to Ted Bundy.”

  Jackie lived in an apartment a few miles outside of Winter Garden. She liked to keep things simple—the bare minimum of furniture, no knickknacks, and no pets. Her living room consisted of two mismatched chairs, a coffee table, and a television. In the bedroom, she had a bed and a dresser. The kitchen contained a bistro set, a refrigerator, a coffeemaker, a stove, one frying pan, one saucepan, two sets of dinnerware, and utensils. I figured the only reason Jackie had more than two sets of flatware was because one typically had to buy an eight-, sixteen-, or twenty-four-piece set.

  It wasn’t just that Jackie preferred to live a simple life. She led a guarded life. Her dad had died in a car accident when Jackie was eight. Then her mother had taken off when Jackie was sixteen years old, leaving Aunt Bess to raise Jackie. Even though her mom, Renee, came around every once in a while, there was no regularity to her visits—one day she was in Winter Garden again, the next day she wasn’t. So Jackie was particular about who she chose to trust. Me, Mom, Aunt Bess, Sarah, and Roger were about it.

  She went into the bedroom, threw some things into a duffel, and we were off again.

  “Was it scary?” she asked as we drove back toward Winter Garden.

  “Your apartment? Heck, yeah. Way too uncluttered.”

  “You know what I meant.”

  “I’d say the whole funeral home experience was creepy rather than scary.”

  “I have to wonder why Pete asked you to go help him with the arrangements instead of taking Chris Anne. It might sound callous to say so, but now that Lou Lou is gone, they don’t have to be secretive about their relationship anymore, right?”

  “I got the impression she didn’t want to do it. Pete said I knew his mother better than Chris Anne did and that he needed a woman’s opinion,” I said. “Plus, he took advantage of the opportunity to ask if I was still interested in buying the café.”

  “Dang,” she said. “Let your mom get cold first, Pete. What’d you say? I mean, is he even sure he can sell the Joint this soon?”

  “I told him that we should give it a few days . . . get the funeral behind him, let him adjust to the shock of losing his mother and all. He did ask me to man the grill tomorrow morning. That reminds me, did you bring your uniform?”

  “No. I’ll go get it before work. I figured Lou’s Joint would be closed for a few days, didn’t you?”

  “Frankly, yes. But I’d rather go to the café tomorrow than have it come back to me.”

  “You’ve got a point there.”

  * * *

  Jackie and I hadn’t been at my house long when my mom and Aunt Bess came by. Mom was of average height and thin. She wore her highlighted dark blond hair in a pixie cut that set off her lovely green eyes. Aunt Bess was on the plump side—but I’d never tell her so for a million dollars. I figured she was eighty-two, and she’d earned it. Plus, she
looked great. She had a headful of curly white hair, silver-framed oval glasses, and a surprisingly smooth face. She never went out when she wasn’t dressed to the nines, including jewelry and makeup.

  Jackie and I hugged them both hello.

  “Aunt Bess, you’re looking as pretty as a pat of butter melting on a short stack,” I said.

  “Thank you, darlin’. There’s no point in people going around like they do. Me and your momma went to the grocery store this morning, and people were walking around in there with their hair uncombed and some of them looked like they were wearing pajamas.” She flattened her lips in disapproval. “And, Lord have mercy, what some of them girls were wearing! Or, should I say, not wearing. They ought to be ashamed.”

  “Yes, ma’am, they—”

  “Now, I grew up in a time when girls were modest,” she continued. “We didn’t go around with our hineys and bosoms hanging out of our clothes. The only ones that did that were streetwalkers.” She frowned. “And I don’t think even they did, did they, Jenna?”

  “I don’t know,” Mom said. “I wasn’t there.”

  “No, but your mother was. Didn’t she tell you about it?”

  “She must not have.” Mom was ready for a change in subject. “Tell us about Lou Lou. We didn’t find out until just a few minutes ago that you were the one who found her, Amy. Why didn’t you call me last night?”

  “By the time I got home last night, I was exhausted, and I just wanted to go to bed.”

  Princess Eloise must’ve heard Mom’s voice, because she came into the living room and jumped onto Mom’s lap, rubbing her head against Mom’s chin.

  “Hello, sweetums.” Mom kissed the top of the cat’s head.

  “Did you get a picture of Lou’s Joint with the crime scene tape up?” Aunt Bess asked.

  “No, Aunt Bess, of course not! Why in the world would I do that?”

  “I don’t know. I just thought if you did, maybe I could start me a Pinterest board on small-town crime.”

  I exchanged looks of horror with Jackie. Maybe Shirley Green had been right about Aunt Bess’s social media addiction getting out of hand. But given what Jackie had said about Ms. Green, the two might have more in common than Ms. Green thought.

  “I—I didn’t dream you’d want me to take a picture, Aunt Bess.”

  “Well, you’ll know next time,” she said.

  I prayed there wouldn’t be a next time.

  “Are you all right?” Mom asked me. “It’s bound to be a horrible experience to walk in on . . . on . . . you know, something like that.”

  “It was. I—”

  “Did you see the killer?” Aunt Bess asked. “Do they know who did it? I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if it was her boy, Pete. Maybe he finally got tired of taking her guff and just popped her one right in the head.”

  “Granny!” Jackie cried. “You don’t really think Pete would kill his own mom, do you?”

  “Why, young ’un, if you’re gonna get killed by somebody, nine times out of ten, it’s gonna be somebody you love.”

  She had a point.

  “Hey! Why was your yard full of people earlier today?” Aunt Bess barely stopped to take a breath. “Did you have a party and not invite us?”

  “Of course not,” I said. Aunt Bess was always afraid of being left out of something. I told her and Mom about Homer coming for breakfast and then Dilly showing up wanting lunch.

  “You can’t let people take advantage of you like that,” Mom said.

  “That’s what I told her,” Jackie piped up. “But everything should be back to normal tomorrow. Pete wants us to get back to work.”

  “Before his mother’s even in the ground?” Aunt Bess flattened her palm against her chest. “Lord, have mercy! That makes me want to go back over there and get my lemon pie back. We took that boy a lemon pie this morning, and now I’m wondering if he even deserves it.”

  “I’ll make you another lemon pie,” Mom told her.

  “Well, I don’t want you to go to any trouble on my account, Jenna. If I’d been you, I’d have made two to begin with . . . but that’s just me.”

  Sometimes Mom and Aunt Bess got along great, and sometimes they acted like they couldn’t stand each other.

  “Amy and I’ll be over to cook for you on Sunday, Granny,” said Jackie. “And if you want a lemon pie, we’ll make you one.”

  “Well, call me before you go to the store. I might’ve changed my mind by then.”

  Mom cut her eyes to Aunt Bess and then back to me. I know she was hoping she’d caught Aunt Bess between breaths. “So what’s the sheriff saying about Lou Lou?”

  “Not much to me,” I said. “He and his deputy questioned me because I was the first on the scene. Neither of them shared any theories with me or anything.”

  “Do you reckon it was someone just driving by who saw her van there and decided to try to rob the place?” Mom asked. “I mean, Lou Lou usually didn’t work late at night, did she?”

  “Not often. She generally took the morning shift and left the afternoon shift to Pete. Any work she had to do, she tried to catch up on before she left in the morning.”

  “Why was she there, then?” Aunt Bess asked.

  “I went in yesterday morning and asked to buy the café. She turned me down flat. Later on, Pete called me and asked me to come to a meeting last night. He said he’d talked his momma into selling but wanted to act fast, before she could change her mind. He was having Bobby Hancock come out too.”

  Aunt Bess squinted. “So Pete Holman was gung ho to sell Lou’s Joint?”

  “Yes, ma’am. He wants to go into the trucking business.”

  “Told you,” she said, looking at the other three of us in turn. No one asked the question she was waiting for, so she said, “I told you Pete Holman killed that woman.”

  “Just because he wanted to sell the business?” Mom asked.

  “He wanted to sell the business. Lou Lou didn’t.”

  “But, Granny, he told Amy he’d gotten her to change her mind,” Jackie said.

  “He changed her mind by putting a hole in it.” She gave a resolute nod of her head. “I reckon he can sell it now, can’t he?”

  Chapter 5

  I was in the kitchen making dinner when Sarah showed up. She’d apparently gone home after work and changed into white shorts and a pink T-shirt. Being fair-skinned, Jackie and I had both always been a teensy bit jealous of Sarah’s beautiful caramel-colored skin tone. She looked fantastic in shorts year-round.

  “Hey, hey!” she called as she came into the kitchen and gave me a hug.

  “You’re in time for dinner. Meat loaf sandwiches, kettle-cooked chips, and preacher cookies.”

  “Sounds great,” she said. “And I bet Jackie’s in the living room setting up the Scrabble board.”

  “Yes, she is. Are you up for a game or two?”

  “I am,” she said. “I’m sorry I didn’t call or come by this morning. I didn’t know anything about Lou Lou until I got into work and Billy told me about it, and then after that we were swamped. Plus, I heard about your impromptu luncheon. How’d that go?”

  “Fine. It wasn’t that big a deal. Deputy Hall came by and said I couldn’t operate a café without a license. So I told him I was giving a very few people free food and invited him for lunch. But he said he’d already eaten.”

  She laughed. “You’d better be glad word didn’t get out all over town, or else you’d still be serving food.”

  “True. I guess it’s a good thing that Pete’s opening the café back up tomorrow.”

  All traces of her laughter dissipated. “Have you seen him today?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “How’d he strike you?” she asked. While I contemplated my answer, she went on. “Did he seem like a guy who’d just lost his mother?”

&nbs
p; “Not really,” I said.

  Jackie came into the kitchen. “Not really what?”

  “Pete didn’t really seem like a guy who’d just lost his mom today,” I said. “But last night, he did. He nearly fainted when the sheriff told him the news.”

  “Then he recovered quickly,” Sarah said. “He was in our office this morning to have Billy get the ball rolling on Lou Lou’s estate.”

  We took our plates and glasses of tea and sat down at the table.

  “He seems to be awfully anxious to marry Chris Anne so they can start their own trucking business,” I said.

  Sarah’s eyes widened, and Jackie got strangled on a drink of her tea.

  “Are you serious?” Jackie croaked.

  “That’s what he told me.” I spread my hands. “I mean, he could be totally sad about his mom and yet . . . maybe . . . kinda excited about the new opportunities he can pursue now. Right? They say everyone deals with grief differently.”

  “How was he at the funeral home?” Jackie asked. “I mean, other than asking if you still want to buy the café?”

  “Other than that, he was considerate. He wanted to make sure he got the things he thought—and that I thought—Lou Lou would’ve wanted for the service.”

  “So we can expect a Hawaiian blue floral-print coffin at the funeral?” Sarah asked.

  “No. The Winter Garden Funeral Home would’ve had to special order that,” I said. “We got a tasteful white coffin with a blue satin liner.”

  Sarah looked down at her plate. “I’m sorry. That was mean of me to say.”

  “You weren’t being mean. You were being honest. How do you think I know for certain that the funeral home would’ve had to special order the blue floral coffin?”

  She grinned at me.

  “When will the funeral be?” Jackie asked.

  “Day after tomorrow,” I said.

  Sarah ate a chip. “What did you tell Pete about the Joint?”

  “I told him we’d talk about it in a few days. . . . You know, he should get the funeral behind him and make sure selling the café is what he’s sure he wants to do.” I sipped my tea. “Can Pete legally sell Lou’s Joint now? I’d have imagined there would be some sort of waiting period or something.”