Elizabeth C. Main - Jane Serrano 01 - Murder of the Month (5 page)

I mentally constructed a score sheet, giving one point for a wisecrack, two for a remark that would cause an opponent to screech, and three for a direct hit that would cause someone to leap over the coffee table in fury. Suddenly, the room went silent. Was it over? Had someone gone for the jugular while I was setting up the rules? Nope, Alix and Bianca were both still breathing, but now they were regrouping for a combined attack on Minnie. I sank onto the couch. Not over. Just opening up another front. I added a column for Minnie onto my imaginary tally sheet.

“
At least we’re not wasting time reading about murder victims painted in zebra stripes,” Bianca said.

“
Right,” agreed Alix. “We haven’t sunk that low. True crime shouldn’t even qualify for this club. Any fiction is better than reading that stuff.”

Bianca tried a flanking maneuver. “Even Bipsy and Mr. Potts.”

“
I wouldn’t go that far,” Alix said, “but zebra stripes?”

“
It’s not the zebra stripes that make the story!” Minnie hotly defended her passion for true-crime stories. “It’s the way they solve the crimes. These things really happened.”

Bianca jumped at her chance. “Well, if you like finding out what really happened, Minnie, then give me a chance to prove my point about Van—”

“
It was an accident,” Minnie wailed.

“
How do you know? You haven’t heard me out. And you, Alix, you haven’t either.” She turned appealingly to Tyler, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll give me a chance, won’t you, Ty?”

The newly christened “Ty” jumped up, a beatific look on his face, as though he’d been knighted by a queen’s scepter instead of Bianca’s tanned hand. I hadn’t seen him move that fast all summer. What on earth? Then I saw his flushed face and knew it wasn’t the force of Bianca’s arguments that had galvanized him. No red-blooded adolescent could resist the direct entreaty of a young, beautiful woman, especially one who had called on him to act as her champion in the battle against their common enemy—that is, adults who talked down to them.

I knew he was a goner before he even opened his mouth. “Sure, I mean, why not? That’s only fair.”

“
Great! You’re terrific, Ty!” Bianca pressed her advantage. “Minnie?”

Still smarting from the zebra comments, Minnie nodded crisply, as though to indicate that she—unlike certain others she could name—was willing to be fair.

“
Alix?”

“
As Tyler says, why not? I could use another good laugh.”

Bianca turned to me. “What do you say, Mom? We’ll all read my book before the next meeting. Then you’ll understand for yourselves. Ty, you don’t mind putting off your selection one more week, do you?”

“
No problem.”

“
See? Ty doesn’t mind.”

Prince Ty wouldn’t mind if Bianca asked him to eat fish fertilizer. I wondered once more how I had landed in this mess. Just wait until I get my hands around your scrawny neck, Laurence, I thought, and I’ll give you a murder that won’t be hard to solve, even if there aren’t any zebra stripes for clues.

Raymond Morris’s Rule Number Seven came to mind:
Agree whenever you possibly can
. Our seeming acquiescence might keep the lid on Bianca for a while longer, and maybe her fantasy could be brought back into bounds without anyone outside the group learning about it. “Nothing public meanwhile,” I insisted.

“That’s fine,” Bianca agreed. “As long as you give me a chance.”

“Okay, apparently we’re all in agreement,” I said. Everyone nodded. “We’ll read your book, Bianca. Give me the title and I’ll order it tomorrow.”

“
Prove It, Puppy!
” she announced happily. “How soon will it arrive?”

I swallowed hard before continuing. “If I order before noon, we should have it here by the next day.”

“
Great!” Bianca clapped her hands, reminding me of her excitement at age seven when she won a goldfish at the Pioneer Elementary School PTA carnival. “I’d better get started.”

“
On what?” I asked. “You agreed that you’re not going to do anything—”

“Nothing public,” she responded.

I wasn’t reassured. “You know about slander and defamation of character—”

“
Oh, Mom. Don’t be silly. I just have a few things to do.” She turned to talk to Tyler.

Usually I heard Laurence’s shuffling footsteps and labored breathing long before he appeared in a room, but I’d been so preoccupied that I’d missed his entrance this time. He was leaning against the doorjamb, looking amazed to see his grandson in animated conversation with Bianca, or, as Laurence had once described her, “your colorful butterfly of a daughter.”

Laurence looked even more surprised when Tyler hurried over to him. “You won’t mind if Jane orders some books for us, will you, Grandpa? We each need our own copy right away.”

For a moment pure astonishment kept Laurence from answering, but I knew he wanted to encourage anything that interested Tyler. He finally stammered, “No, of course not, Tyler, but maybe we already have the books you need.”

I gave Laurence a look that told him most definitely that these books would not already be on our shelves. That wouldn’t matter though. Tyler had shown a spark of life and Laurence wanted to fan that spark into flame. He continued smoothly, “Or if we don’t, Jane can order them right away.”

Bianca fluttered over to him and said, “Oh, thank you, Laurence. Ty said you wouldn’t mind. I already have my copy, but the others will each need one, so that makes four.”

I always expected that courtly old Laurence would be taken aback by such a young woman calling him by his first name, but he was as mesmerized by Bianca as his grandson. “We’d be glad to … er, Bianca. What’s the title?”

Bianca favored him with an incandescent smile and said, “It’s by Laddy and Lady. Those are the names on the book jacket anyway, but that’s sort of an ‘in’ joke. I mean, Laddy and Lady aren’t really the authors.”

Apparently still drowning in that smile, Laurence said weakly, “Of course not. Just a little joke … and the title is …?”

“
Prove It, Puppy!
It’s a really good book. You might want to get an extra copy for yourself.”

Belatedly, I realized that Laurence didn’t normally make the trek upstairs without good reason. “Is something wrong, Laurence?” No answer. Whatever the original reason for his hike, it apparently had fled his mind at the mention of a book called
Prove It, Puppy!
He was opening and closing his mouth like a bass out of water.

I crossed the room to him and put my hand on his bony arm. He turned slowly, his attention clearly elsewhere. “Wrong? What makes you think anything is wrong?”

“
Are you implying that I can’t make it up the stairs whenever I—”

“
Of course not, but are you feeling all right? You look a little flushed.” I led him back toward the couch. “Here, why don’t you sit down?”

“
No, I don’t want … Stop mothering me, Jane. I won’t have it. Did she say
Prove It, Puppy!
is the book she wants? I can’t believe—”

“
Maybe you’d like a frosted bran bar,” I interjected.

“
A frosted bran bar?” he repeated. Distracted, he sat down. “Why would anyone frost a bran bar? Why would anyone want a bran bar, frosted or not?”

“Oh, sorry. They’re all gone, of course,” I said, glancing at Wendell, who was now stretched out on the carpet, legs twitching as he dreamed. At least I hoped he was dreaming, and not going into spasms as a result of an overdose of fiber. “Just sit here a minute until … uh … until you remember what it is—”

“
I’m not senile, Jane. I know why I came up here. It was just that I couldn’t believe I heard right when—”

“
Yes, yes, I’ll explain later. Now, you were saying …?”

“
It was Susannah.”

“
Susannah?” Several days had passed since I’d talked to my oldest daughter, and her due date for this difficult pregnancy was fast approaching. “She called?”

“
Well, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. Yes, she called, and she wants you to call her right back. Those were her exact words.”

Bianca said, “I left a message on her machine earlier. Maybe she was calling me back.”

“She specifically asked for your mother,” Laurence answered.

“
Was she all right?” I asked. “Has she started labor? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“
That’s what I was trying to do when you dropped me into this black hole of a couch.” As he spoke, Laurence attempted to lever himself back to a standing position, finally heaving himself to his feet with a Herculean effort borne of frustration and embarrassment at his obvious frailty. “You’d better get downstairs and find out what she wanted.” He waved off my help. “No, no, I’ll be fine. Just go.”

“
I’ll help you, Grandpa,” said Tyler.

“
So will I,” Bianca chimed in.

“
No, thank you … er, Bianca. Tyler’s help will be sufficient.”

“Want me to call Susannah, Mom?”

“I’d better do it, as long as she asked for me,” I said. Limiting Bianca’s conversations with anyone outside this group was a high priority for me at the moment.

“
Well, in that case,” Bianca said, “come on, Wendell. We have things to do.”

“
What kind of things?” Minnie asked. “Remember, it’s not nice—”

“
Don’t worry,” Bianca replied. “Now that you’ve agreed to read the book, I can take my time and do this right.”

“
Don’t be dense, Minnie,” said Alix. “She’s going to get a trench coat, of course. Probably didn’t think to pack one with her summer cottons.”

“
Not that it should matter to you, Alix, but after I straighten things up here, I’m going to the Good Food Store to get the ingredients to make Wendell’s dog food.” She looked around in some surprise at the disarray caused by Wendell’s quest for the ill-fated frosted bran bars.

“
Ah, I see,” Alix said. “He’s such a picky eater. Clever girl. Apparently, you did remember to pack your trench coat. I have to get a few groceries, too. Perhaps we’ll meet over the wheat germ.”

Minnie said, “Well, that’s all right then. We’ll clear up everything after we get a look at this book of yours, Bianca, though I don’t think for a minute that—”

“
Walk downstairs with me,” I said, gripping Minnie’s arm. “Coming, Alix?”

“
Might as well,” said Alix. “Today’s show seems to be over. Call when my copy of the book arrives.”

I hustled them out the door and down the hall. “I’ll let you know.” With any luck at all, Ingram’s Roseburg warehouse wouldn’t have any copies of these books, and by the time we could order them from a secondary warehouse, maybe Bianca would have forgotten this whole thing.

But right now, I needed to call Susannah.

Because of my shaking hands, it took me several tries to dial Susannah’s number correctly. I should have packed a bag before this so I could be ready to leave the minute she called, but Bianca’s accusation had put it completely out of my mind. How could I fly to Minnesota with things here so unsettled, but how could I not? Susannah was counting on me to take care of Kevin while she was in the hospital. The answering machine picked up after the sixth ring, leaving me time to envision a breech birth, trips to the emergency room, pools of blood, hastily arranged plane tickets …

So deep was I into disaster mode that I almost missed it when the recorded messaged segued into Susannah’s voice, barely audible over the screams in the background. “Mom, if that’s you, don’t hang up!”

“Is that Kevin? What’s happened?”

“Kevin’s fine, or he would be if I could get the peanut butter out of his hair. Just a minute.” The continuing background commotion told me how Kevin felt about the situation. Finally, the wails died away and Susannah was back. “Okay.”

“Should I call the airport? It won’t take more than—”

“Relax. The baby’s not coming yet, Mom.”

“But Laurence—”

“Sorry if I scared you, but your situation sounded serious.”

“What situation is that?” I asked, stalling for time.

“The Louise situation, of course.” Always the impatient older sister, Susannah refused to use the name Bianca had chosen for herself. The two of them had never been compatible, and the considerable distance between Minnesota and Oregon suited them both. Susannah’s tone of voice when speaking of her younger sister veered primarily between disapproval and disbelief. We were in disbelief territory at the moment, but I expected that to change soon. “Some wild story about a murder? She’s not answering her phone at home, but I thought you’d know what she was talking about.”

“
Well, you see—” I started to explain, but broke off as Minnie swept back into the store.

Minnie’s color was high and she wore a frown on her normally cheerful countenance. “I know that ‘a soft answer turneth away wrath,’ Jane, but I’m not sure how long I can continue to remain calm if Alix doesn’t stop making unkind remarks about poor Gil. I’ve decided to go straight over to his house with some of my peanut butter cookies … well, right after I pick up some peanut butter and bake the cookies. I just wanted you to know that I don’t blame your daughter though. Bianca is just young and foolish. We’ll soon set her straight, but Alix should know better. Her attitude is outrageous!” Belatedly she noticed the telephone I held to my ear.