Gail Oust - 'Til Dice Do Us Part

I glanced at the closed door, expecting it to burst open any second and be inundated with eager ticket buyers.

“Hurry up, Diane,” Connie Sue wailed. “I’ve got news, too.”

“OK, OK,” Diane said. “Remember Krystal’s telling us she’d played Marty Maraschino in a revival of Grease in Atlanta? What she failed to mention is that Lance Ledeaux was in that very same production.” Diane dropped her voice even lower. “Lance was-get ready-the Teen Angel.” Arms crossed, she leaned back, obviously relishing the effect of her little bombshell.

Recovering first, Connie Sue splayed a hand over her heart. “Teen Angel?” she squealed. “No way! Surely you’re joshin’!”

“Krystal and Lance in the same play? Are you sure?”

Diane smiled smugly. “Positive.”

I looked from Diane to Connie Sue, then back again. “You know what this means, don’t you? That means they knew each other, were friends.”

Grinning widely, Connie Sue gave me a playful nudge. “Maybe more than friends.”

It took a second for the full import of her insinuation to sink in. I’m also a little slow on occasion getting punch lines to certain jokes, but that doesn’t make me a bad person, does it? “You aren’t suggesting…”

“Don’t be naive, sugar,” Connie Sue chided. “Think about it. Lance could very well be the daddy of Krystal’s baby. That would explain why she tracked him down. Maybe when he refused to fess up, she decided to teach him a lesson. Hormones do crazy things when you’re preggers.”

A rap on the door abruptly halted conversation. Nancy Walker poked her head in the door. “You ladies going to sell tickets or not? The natives are getting restless. Much longer, and I’m going to have to send for crowd control.”

“Sorry, Nancy,” I apologized. “Can you fend ’em off another couple minutes?”

“Tell ’em we’re in the middle of an important meetin’. We’ll be finished shortly,” Connie Sue added.

“Five minutes,” Nancy agreed with a grin. “More ’n that, I’m not responsible.”

“Now for my news.” Connie Sue wore a sly, cat-with-a-canary expression on her beauty queen face. “Y’all never guess what I found out when I ran into Marietta Perkins at the nail salon.”

“C’mon, Connie Sue,” Diane wheedled. “The suspense is killing us.”

“Oh, all right, y’all talked me into it,” Connie Sue acquiesced prettily. “The two of us got to talkin’ about the night Lance was killed. Marietta, as y’all know, might be short on personality, but she’s long on memory. She remembers a couple newcomers at the rec center that night askin’ about the facilities. One happened to be none other than Nadine Peterson. The second person she swears was Krystal Gold. Afterward she got real busy at the desk. Claims she doesn’t recall seein’ either one leave. Couldn’t swear if it was before or after the shootin’.”

Wow! This wasn’t just big. It was huge. Gigantic. Marietta with her fabulous memory placed not one but two persons of interest at the scene of the crime.

A banging on the door warned us our fortress was about to be stormed by a mob of irate customers. A chorus of angry voices added to the din.

“Open up. I’ve been waiting almost two hours.”

“Yeah?” another voice chimed. “I drove all the way from Augusta.”

“Big deal! I came from Aiken.”

“That’s a wrap,” I announced an hour later.

Forever, My Darling was a sell-out. From all appearances, we had a surefire hit on our hands. There had been a few disgruntled customers, but for the most part, people seemed excited at the prospect of viewing a play where a man was actually killed. There was nothing like bloodshed to get the juices flowing. Nero probably observed that same human foible the first time he fed Christians to a bunch of hungry lions.

“It’s been fun, y’all,” Connie Sue said, gathering her things. “Hate to rush off like this, but don’t want to be late for my massage.”

Diane finished totaling cash and checks and put the proceeds in a locked box. “I’ll deposit this and give Janine the receipt. Good thing I’m working noon to closing at the library. If I hurry, I might even have time to grab a quick lunch.”

That made me the last of the ticket sellers. I’d just slung the strap of my purse over my shoulder when Bill popped by. “I was hoping to catch you. Can I interest you in lunch? The Cove Café is running a special.”

Suddenly I was ravenous. “Sounds great. Give me a sec to freshen up.”

Bill grinned. “You look fresh enough to me, but take your time.”

Nothing like a compliment from an attractive man to make a girl’s heart go pitter-patter, I thought as I dashed into the ladies’ room. I freshened my makeup and ran a brush through my hair, hoping Bill would find my lopsided curls charming and not unruly.

When I returned, Bill was waiting right where I’d left him. “Since the course isn’t busy today, I borrowed a golf cart for the ride over.”

My red and white chariot awaited. We easily could have walked the distance, but it was more fun to ride along one of the many cart paths that wind through Serenity Cove like spools of silver gray ribbon. I took a moment to admire the winter scenery, a far cry from winters in my native Ohio. The skies above were a clear, Carolina blue. February’s temperatures were cool enough for a light jacket, but too warm for a coat. Sunlight speared through the boughs of towering loblolly pines, and red birds flitted about. Pansies, violas, and ornamental cabbage-filled pots set here and there, adding bright splashes of color. Today was Disney in living, breathing Technicolor. All that was missing was the refrain from “Bibiddi-Bobbidi-Boo.” Sitting next to my very own prince charming in a jaunty red golf cart, I had to admit life was good. I could almost forget about Claudia’s plight, the early-morning phone call, and the fact that a killer roamed free-almost.

At the Cove Café, we were greeted by a smiling Vera MacGillicudy and directed to a table. The special Bill referred to turned out to be a hot roast beef sandwich complete with mashed potatoes and coleslaw. A manly kind of lunch. I ordered a chicken salad sandwich instead with a side of fruit. After all, a girl has to watch her figure. At least she does if there’s a man around to watch the girl who’s watching her figure.

“Glad we aired things out the other night.”

“Me, too,” I agreed.

Vera returned with our drink orders, unsweet tea with lemon for me, coffee for Bill. After giving me a conspiratorial wink, she left us to talk.

I added sweetener to my tea. “How was poker night?”

Bill grimaced. “Terrible. I got hosed.”

“Hosed? You lost?”

Bill looked sheepish. “A bundle. At least it seems that way for someone as conservative as I am. Turned out Gus Smith is quite a poker player. The guys finally got him to admit he used to spend vacations in Vegas. Let me tell you, the man sure knows his way around a deck of cards. Darned if any of us could tell when he was bluffing.”

I would have liked to hear more, but just then my cell phone jingled. “Sorry,” I murmured, rummaging through my purse, hoping I’d find it before it stopped ringing.

I recognized Polly’s name on the display as I flipped open the cover. “Hey, Polly, I just sat down to have lunch with Bill. Can this wait?”

“No way, Jose,” she chirped. “What I got to say is a matter of life and death. Get your butt back to the rec center RN.”

“Registered nurse?”

“No, silly,” she giggled, sounding more like a teen than a septuagenarian. “RN stands for ‘right now.’ You’re not the only one into texting.”