Becklaw's Murder Mystery Tour (Jo Anderson Series) by Dane McCaslin Page B
Authors: Dane McCaslin
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more permanent in nature.
‘Oh, sorry, ma’am,’ I replied, somewhat intimidated. ‘I’m looking for the managers. Did you happen to notice where they went?’ I mentally crossed my fingers in the hope that she was as nosey as she was talkative.
She paused, thinking, then shook her head. Another strand of hair fell down. ‘I spoke to the wife earlier, but I have seen neither hide nor hair of them since. It was about an hour ago, I’d guess.’
Her eyes seemed to home in on me then, recognition lighting up her powdered and rouged face. ‘Aha! I thought I’d seen you before! I remember traveling with you on the train from Piney Woods to Denver. What in heaven’s name are you doing here?’
I smiled in what I hoped was a friendly manner, then dipped my head a bit in acknowledgement. ‘I came to Colorado – Copper, not Denver – to join Becklaw’s Murder Mystery Tour.’ I couldn’t help it; a tone of pride had crept into my voice and I wanted this old woman to realize that she was in the presence of greatness.
She snorted. ‘Becklaw’s Murder Mystery Tour’? Don’t tell me that you’re mixed up with that Beatrice Becklaw!’
I have to confess that I nearly fell over.
Chapter Seven
‘Yes – I – Miss Bea …’ I could not get out that yes, indeed, I was ‘mixed up’ with ‘that Beatrice Becklaw’, and how did she know her? Thankfully, the woman was good at translating stammering lips.
She came fully out of her trailer then, and I noticed that she limped slightly. ‘I might have known she would get up to something like this eventually. I’m Lucinda Becklaw, Beatrice’s sister-in-law. What is your name, young lady?’
I automatically stuck out my hand. ‘Josephine Anderson, ma’am. Jo for short.’ We shook, and her grip was certainly firmer than was mine at the moment. I chalked it up to shock.
‘Lead the way. I want a word with Beatrice.’ Lucinda Becklaw turned and locked the door, then stomped down the porch steps.
I, a survivor of Seven Brothers Boot Camp and not given to questioning my elders, began walking back toward our assigned trailer. I made sure that my gait was slower so that she could easily stay in step. Her limp, more pronounced now that she was moving faster, seemed to fit her, and I noticed with admiration that she didn’t rely on anything to help her. I had a feeling that the Becklaw sisters-in-law suited one another.
I went in first. Normally I would hold the door for an elder and let her precede me into a room, but I wanted to prepare Miss Bea. I owed that much to her, I thought.
Leslie and Miss Bea sat side by side on the trailer’s overstuffed couch, Leslie holding Miss Bea’s hand and stroking it. I could see that Miss Bea had been crying.
‘Ah, Miss Bea,’ I began. ‘No one was at the office. But …’ here I paused, unsure of what to say. ‘I ran into someone you might know. May I present Miss Lucinda Becklaw?’
As if on cue, in stamped Lucinda. Also as if on cue, Miss Bea suddenly slumped over, leaning heavily on Leslie’s shoulder. Leslie and I exchanged worried looks. Had she fainted? Or worse, had shock sent her heart into a tailspin?
‘Oh snap out of it, Beatrice.’ Lucinda Becklaw’s voice was brusque and she walked over and gave Miss Bea’s shoulder a good whack. Miss Bea instantly recovered.
Instead of addressing her sister-in-law, as one might have expected, she turned to me, saying reproachfully, ‘Oh, Jo, how could you?’
How could I what? I wanted to ask, but instead kept my peace. Lucinda broke in.
‘Still the timid little Beatrice, I can see that clearly,’ she said disdainfully. ‘Well, it looks as if you need someone around to keep order, and since our dear Desmond has passed on to his reward, may he rest in the peace he never had on earth, it’ll have to be me.’ She took herself over to one of two armchairs and plopped down heavily, her lame leg sticking straight out in front. It was only then that I noticed the
‘Oh, sorry, ma’am,’ I replied, somewhat intimidated. ‘I’m looking for the managers. Did you happen to notice where they went?’ I mentally crossed my fingers in the hope that she was as nosey as she was talkative.
She paused, thinking, then shook her head. Another strand of hair fell down. ‘I spoke to the wife earlier, but I have seen neither hide nor hair of them since. It was about an hour ago, I’d guess.’
Her eyes seemed to home in on me then, recognition lighting up her powdered and rouged face. ‘Aha! I thought I’d seen you before! I remember traveling with you on the train from Piney Woods to Denver. What in heaven’s name are you doing here?’
I smiled in what I hoped was a friendly manner, then dipped my head a bit in acknowledgement. ‘I came to Colorado – Copper, not Denver – to join Becklaw’s Murder Mystery Tour.’ I couldn’t help it; a tone of pride had crept into my voice and I wanted this old woman to realize that she was in the presence of greatness.
She snorted. ‘Becklaw’s Murder Mystery Tour’? Don’t tell me that you’re mixed up with that Beatrice Becklaw!’
I have to confess that I nearly fell over.
Chapter Seven
‘Yes – I – Miss Bea …’ I could not get out that yes, indeed, I was ‘mixed up’ with ‘that Beatrice Becklaw’, and how did she know her? Thankfully, the woman was good at translating stammering lips.
She came fully out of her trailer then, and I noticed that she limped slightly. ‘I might have known she would get up to something like this eventually. I’m Lucinda Becklaw, Beatrice’s sister-in-law. What is your name, young lady?’
I automatically stuck out my hand. ‘Josephine Anderson, ma’am. Jo for short.’ We shook, and her grip was certainly firmer than was mine at the moment. I chalked it up to shock.
‘Lead the way. I want a word with Beatrice.’ Lucinda Becklaw turned and locked the door, then stomped down the porch steps.
I, a survivor of Seven Brothers Boot Camp and not given to questioning my elders, began walking back toward our assigned trailer. I made sure that my gait was slower so that she could easily stay in step. Her limp, more pronounced now that she was moving faster, seemed to fit her, and I noticed with admiration that she didn’t rely on anything to help her. I had a feeling that the Becklaw sisters-in-law suited one another.
I went in first. Normally I would hold the door for an elder and let her precede me into a room, but I wanted to prepare Miss Bea. I owed that much to her, I thought.
Leslie and Miss Bea sat side by side on the trailer’s overstuffed couch, Leslie holding Miss Bea’s hand and stroking it. I could see that Miss Bea had been crying.
‘Ah, Miss Bea,’ I began. ‘No one was at the office. But …’ here I paused, unsure of what to say. ‘I ran into someone you might know. May I present Miss Lucinda Becklaw?’
As if on cue, in stamped Lucinda. Also as if on cue, Miss Bea suddenly slumped over, leaning heavily on Leslie’s shoulder. Leslie and I exchanged worried looks. Had she fainted? Or worse, had shock sent her heart into a tailspin?
‘Oh snap out of it, Beatrice.’ Lucinda Becklaw’s voice was brusque and she walked over and gave Miss Bea’s shoulder a good whack. Miss Bea instantly recovered.
Instead of addressing her sister-in-law, as one might have expected, she turned to me, saying reproachfully, ‘Oh, Jo, how could you?’
How could I what? I wanted to ask, but instead kept my peace. Lucinda broke in.
‘Still the timid little Beatrice, I can see that clearly,’ she said disdainfully. ‘Well, it looks as if you need someone around to keep order, and since our dear Desmond has passed on to his reward, may he rest in the peace he never had on earth, it’ll have to be me.’ She took herself over to one of two armchairs and plopped down heavily, her lame leg sticking straight out in front. It was only then that I noticed the
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