The Saucy Lucy Murders by Cindy Keen Reynders Page A

too,” Eva said. “I wish I could have done something.”
    “You were a child. What could you do? But everything’s all right now.”
    “I love you, Mom.”
    “I love you too, sweetie. So very much.” They hugged for a while longer.
    Then, sniffling a little, Eva went back in the house to pack. After dinner, she would be driving back to college.
    Lexie sat back down and stared at her lemonade. She’d finally admitted to her daughter the awful truth about Dan’s temper, who had known about it all along. It was like a burden had been lifted. A little light had been shed on the dark part of her past. Still, it was a place Lexie didn’t want to visit often.
    She had been backed into a corner with Dan for too long, with no way out. She did not like the feeling of being helpless. Which is how she felt right now. And if someone was killing her dates on purpose, maybe they’d have it in for her. Who knows when she’d be next on the hit list?
    Lexie swallowed her unease. Surely, someone in this town had answers. While she knew very little about Henry Whitehead, other people must know more. The likely person to do the questioning would be Otis, but Lexie knew he’d leave that to the big guns in Westonville.
    Which left Detective Stevenson in charge of working the case. He looked capable enough, but would he ask the right things of the right people? The man had only recently moved here. What did he know about anyone? It would take him twice as long to solve the murder as someone who knew the place intimately.
    There was only one person who knew this town and its citizens like the back of her hand. Lexie’s good-hearted, gossip-mongering sister. She’d know all the right people to talk to and all the right questions to ask. If Moose Creek Junction had a pulse, Lucy had her finger on it.
    It was clear to Lexie what she needed to do next. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and punched in Lucy’s number. When Lucy answered, Lexie said, “Lucy. I need your help.”
    “I don’t like your tone of voice,” Lucy responded.
    “I’m worried.”
    “About what?”
    “Detective Stevenson’s murder investigation.”
    “Let him handle it, dear. I’m sure he’s good at what he does. He’s single, by the way. Actually, he’s a widower.”
    “Lucy, concentrate. I do not care about Stevenson’s marital status. But I do care about his investigation abilities. What if he’s no good? What if he never finds out who killed Whitehead? What if he decides
I
did it?”
    “That would be impossible. The Westonville coroner will determine Henry’s time of death, and I’m sure it will be hours after you went home.”
    “Still, don’t you think it’s weird? This is the second man I’ve dated who has turned up dead. What if somebody has it in for me? What if I’m next?”
    Lucy was silent a moment. “I never thought of it that way.”
    “Well, I have. A lot. And I want to find out who’s been doing my dates in.”
    “Otis will kill us if we start snooping around.”
    “He doesn’t have to know. We’ll be very careful.”
    “Still, I don’t like it one bit.”
    “Picture me in an orange jumpsuit with a cigarette hanging out of my mouth,” Lexie said. “Or, worse yet, pushing up daisies.” When Lucy did not respond, Lexie said, “Fine, no need for you to get involved. I’ll just check into this myself.”
    “Oh, stop. You are not going to jail and you are not going to die.” Lucy sighed heavily. “You win. I don’t think we’ll find the murderer, but we’ll do some of our own investigations.”
    “Excellent. Where do you think we should start? You know this town better than I do. I’ve been away too long.”
    The line was silent a moment while Lucy reflected. “At Nailed to the Wall, of course,” she finally said. “Women are as loose-lipped over at Carma Leone’s beauty parlor as teenage girls at a sleepover. We’ll both have a set of acrylic nails put on while we listen to shop-talk.”
    Lexie was