A Killer Read (2 page)

Lizzie hadn’t heard Molly Mathews come outside, but the slight wheeze of years of smoking signaled her presence.

“That child is tempting many fates. Do parents not teach their children manners anymore?” Molly asked.

“She’s just doing her teenage thing, Molly. Besides, I know you like a gal with spunk. Which is a good thing because Andie’s coming to the book club tonight. I’m hoping if I can get her hooked on a mystery, she’ll keep reading.”

“That ought to spice things up if it gets too boring.” She hooked an arm through Lizzie’s and steered her back inside. “I have some iced tea poured for us. I want to hear who all you’ve got lined up for our first meeting. Hopefully, it won’t be the last.”

“Why would you say that?” Lizzie slid along the padded cream banquette that followed the L-shape of the corner windows and took a long drink. “I think this book club has great potential. Another of your brilliant ideas.”

“Nice of you to say so, honey. But it’s no mystery that this here town needs a club that specializes in books with actual plots and resolutions.”

Lizzie laughed. “Amen. But it is great of you to open your house to everything. First the literacy program and tutoring, and now the book club.”

It really was the ideal location, Lizzie thought. The grand antebellum house with the prominent address had graced the acre of property for almost a century and was an Ashton Corners landmark.

Lizzie had often heard that people started to look like their spouses or their pets after many years of living together. She believed the same applied to people and their houses. Molly matched the house in grace and stature and, in one way, color: both she and the house were topped with gray. However, Molly’s was a shoulder-length wave provided by
Mother Nature and styled weekly by Willetta at the Curl Haven.

Lizzie decided she’d better keep vigilant for the day her own long, straight dark brown hair started curling like the fanciful trim of her house or even paled to a matching taupe.

“Believe me when I say it’s nothing, honey. This old house needs things happening in it to keep it alive. Claydon and I would throw great parties and have people over all the time. He loved to play the magnanimous host. And I was a real social butterfly. We did have a good life together.” Molly sighed. “Now, enough of the past. Who all is coming tonight?”

“Well, there’s Bob Miller.” Lizzie chose a piece of blueberry bread from the plate Molly pushed toward her and vowed to add another half mile to her morning run. A part of her knew that at thirty-one years old, she didn’t really need to worry about extra pounds just yet, especially since she’d been trim all of her life, but she wasn’t about to take any chances.

“Now there’s a surprise. Don’t tell me y’all just asked Bob and he said yes?”

“No. His sister cornered me during the break at the Musica Nobilis choir practice— she stands behind me in the soprano section— and asked if he could come. She said she’d make sure he turned up.”

“That makes more sense. Lucille always did have to be in charge of everything, and she couldn’t be when he was police chief. Now that he’s retired, I’m sure she’s trying to take over his life again.” Molly grimaced. “You know, I’ve known Bob since we were in diapers. His mama used to sew the most exquisite dresses, and she’d bring Bob along to play whenever my mama had a fitting. We tended to be in the same classes most of the way through school, but then we sort of lost touch when he got married. His Sue-Ann was the jealous type, even though she had nothing to worry about where I was concerned.”

“Is she dead now?”

“No, honey. She up and left him way back, when their little girl was only eight years old. Said she couldn’t take being married to a police officer. I think she meant to the
bank account
of a police officer. I heard she married a banker in Atlanta after the divorce came through. It’s a shame about his daughter, Lily, though. I know he’s aching to see her, but Sue-Ann did a number on that child and she wants nothing to do with Bob. People can be so cruel sometimes.”

“I didn’t know. That’s such a shame.”

“Yes, it is.” Molly sighed again. “Now, who else is coming?”

“Sally-Jo Baker, of course. We try to get together at least once a week for dinner and a movie, but I don’t think she’s made too many other friends since moving here last winter. She’s been wanting a way to meet more people. I hadn’t given it much thought, having been born and raised in Ashton Corners, but it must be tough for someone my age to just plug into a whole new life.”

“It is at any age, honey.”

“I suppose. I think the best way to meet people is to get involved in things. That’s one of the reasons I’ve invited Stephanie Lowe along, too. Hopefully, it will also reinforce the reading skills she’s acquired in the literacy program.” Lizzie glanced at the large red clock shaped like the state of Alabama, hanging above the kitchen door. “Yikes. Look at the time. I’ve still got to pick up some eats for tonight, get home and get changed.”

“Wear something that’ll knock them out, honey. My mama always used to say, along with the clean underwear bit, that you should always dress your best for the start of something new. Because you never know what might happen.”

Lizzie’s cell phone rang and she rummaged in her purse to find it. “Excuse me, Molly,” she said before answering it.

“How interesting,” she said a moment later, after ending the call and tucking her phone away. “That was Bob, and he asked if he could bring along a friend tonight.”

Molly chuckled. “Probably someone for moral support. Did he say whom?”

“No. But it’s a great way to start a mystery book club, don’t you think? Having a mystery guest?”

L
izzie sampled a cheese straw from the plate in Sally-Jo Baker’s hand. “You mean, you finished teaching today at three
P. M.
, went home and baked three things to bring tonight?”

“Of course,” Sally-Jo said with a nod. “I said I’d bring something.”

Lizzie and Sally-Jo had met just after Christmas when Sally-Jo had moved to town to teach third grade at Ashton Corners Elementary School. They’d ended up in the school staff room one morning and over some bad coffee, found similar interests that had led to a good friendship.

“I know,” Lizzie said, “but I didn’t think you’d actually bake, not with LaBelle’s Bakery practically next door to the school. I just find it so hard to believe that there are people who actually enjoy baking. And cooking, come to think of it. I’m always happy to be a sampler, though.” She took another bite of the cheese straw to demonstrate. “Yum. So, who’s arrived so far?”

Sally-Jo passed a china serving dish to Lizzie, who plated the cinnamon pecan drop biscuits she’d snagged at LaBelle’s. “Stephanie Lowe was the first to show up. I guess she’s also eager to meet new people.”

“I’m glad she agreed to come. I don’t think she gets out much other than to her waitress job at the Oasis Diner, and the literacy class, of course. I never see her hanging around with anyone during the break. It’s going to get even worse when she has a newborn baby to care for all by herself. She’ll never get out and meet people her own age then.”

“Strange she never talks about her family or even where she comes from,” Sally-Jo said. “She must be terribly lonely, and like you say, all she’s got is work, class and being pregnant. I can’t picture myself in her place.”

“What— the job, the studying or waiting for the baby to arrive?”

“All of the above.”

Lizzie couldn’t picture herself in Stephanie’s place either. At one point, just after high school, she’d been as anxious as many of her friends to find Mr. Right, settle down and have kids. But after a few years in college, where she’d tried darn hard to make up for not having had a steady boyfriend in high school, she finally arrived at the place of oneness, as she called it. The state of being happy on one’s own, a decision made easier by the fact there wasn’t a large pool of exciting, eligible men swimming around her. Except for the guys she met through the school system and her choir, dates were few and far between these days. Most of the Ashton Corners boys had been snapped up long ago, and if they hadn’t, there was a reason. One she took to be a red flag.

“I wish we could get her to talk about herself and her family,” Sally-Jo interrupted Lizzie’s musing. “There’s a story there, for sure. Here, if you take this tray, I’ll handle the rest. Let the snacking begin.”

“Lead the way!” Lizzie said as she held the door open.

As they were about to enter the library, the doorbell
sounded and the front door was flung open by Bob Miller. He smiled when he saw the two of them.

“Now that’s what I call timing. Two of the prettiest gals in Ashton Corners, Alabama, and their hands filled with food. I told ya’ll it would be worth your while to come, Jacob. Ladies, this here is Jacob Smith, my new neighbor and Ashton Corners’s most recent legal mind.”

Ahh, Bob’s special mystery guest.
Lizzie smiled her welcome.

“Pleased to meet you.” Jacob smiled at both but moved toward Sally-Jo. “May I help y’all with something?”

“That’s awfully sweet of you.” Sally-Jo beamed up at him. “Maybe you could take this plate. I’m Sally-Jo Baker, by the way, and this is Lizzie Turner.”

He nodded in Lizzie’s direction but kept his eyes on Sally-Jo.

Lizzie had an instant vision of just what kind of help Jacob could offer. She pegged him at six-four since he had at least six inches on her, and Sally-Jo came up to his shoulder. The blond curly hair didn’t hurt either. It made him look kind of cuddly, in a stocky, teddy bear kind of way— even with black-framed glasses. Put that next to Sally-Jo’s short auburn pixie cut, snazzy pink glasses and size-two, five-foot-nothing build and that old adage about opposites attracting came to mind. One thing they did share was the glasses. Lizzie was sure she could come up with another dozen good reasons these two should be matched. On the other hand, she had recently sworn off matchmaking after her recent pairing of a soprano who stood near her in the choir and a new tenor had ended with one missing ferret and two suspiciously happy hounds. Surely, nobody could blame her that Kent’s dogs managed to drive Marie’s ferret out of the house, or worse.

“Jacob’s quite the reader and new to town,” explained Bob, “so I thought this would be a good spot for him.”

“Not just for moral support then?” Lizzie asked, a twinkle in her eye.

“Sounds like something Molly would say,” Bob muttered. “Might as well get started. We can’t let the food go to waste.”

Molly came up behind them, another plate in her hand. “I thought I heard your booming voice, Bob Miller. Even though I said I wouldn’t believe you’d be here until I saw you. It’s about time we broadened your horizons. And this is your friend?”

“Very astute, Molly,” Bob said with a wink at Lizzie. “Jacob Smith, Molly Mathews, a mover and shaker in this community and truly one of the nosiest old broads I’ve ever known.” He ducked as Molly reached over with a jab to the arm. “She’s been trying to punch me out for nigh on sixty-five years now.”

“It would be my pleasure, Bob,” Molly said sweetly. “Now, come in here and get ready to contribute.”

She ushered them into a large room, three walls of which were covered with dark oak bookcases. Two settees faced each other across an oriental carpet, and three club chairs upholstered in burgundy velvet had been pulled up to either end. The old-world elegance of the room was highlighted by brocade beige drapes framing a large picture window, which in turn framed the sprawling lawn at the side of the house.

Lizzie noted with disappointment that Andie wasn’t there. Oh well, she’d have to come up with a different tactic to get her reading. Lizzie chose a chair next to Stephanie, welcoming her to the group.

Stephanie smiled. She’d pulled her shoulder-length mousy brown hair into a ponytail, which, along with her sweet expression and slightly nervous mannerisms, made her look even younger than her nineteen years. Lizzie watched as Stephanie stuffed her knitting into a bag on the floor by her chair only to whip it back out again. “Do y’all mind if I keep on knitting? It wouldn’t be too rude or anything, would it?” she asked.

“No, that would be just fine, Stephanie,” Lizzie answered.

Stephanie sat back and adjusted her stretched-out long cotton T-shirt over her bulging belly.
That needs to be ditched for a proper maternity top
, Lizzie thought, then wondered if Stephanie could even afford a new wardrobe. Maybe she should get some of the new mamas in the literacy program together for a maternity clothing exchange.
Food for thought.

“I think we’ll have a lot of fun with this,” Lizzie began. “Thanks first to Molly for offering to host the meetings in her wonderful library here, and thanks to y’all for coming. I suggest we keep this short and sweet. I’m going to make an executive decision, even though there isn’t any executive, that to get us started, we all take turns, alphabetically, choosing the books to read. Which means, Sally-Jo Baker goes first.”