To Die For

"But I do like you, Rose, if you'll just let me explain."

"I don't have time for your explanation. My date will show up any minute and I don't want you standin' here when he does."

"Your date?" The expression on his face said that was the last thing he expected to hear.

I walked closer to him. "What? You think I'm incapable of gettin' a date, Joe McAllister? Is that why you thought you could lie to me when you really had a girlfriend?"

His eyes widened in what appeared to be genuine surprise. "No, Rose, of course not, and I didn't lie. I swear."

I opened the door and looked over my shoulder at him. "Go swear somewhere else, Joe. I don't wanna hear it."

I shut the door on him, amazed at myself for standing up to him, even if I was shaking.

"What was that all about?" Violet asked.

"I don't want to talk about it." I said walking away. "Don't you need to be goin' somewhere?" I was irritated that I let Joe get to me. I didn't want to go on my first date in a foul mood. I hid the bathroom and tried to calm my nerves when I heard another knock a few minutes later.

"I'll get it!" Violet called from the living room.

"No, you won't!" I said, hurrying out of the bathroom. "I'll get it." I stopped at the door and took a deep breath before I opened it.

Mildred stood in the doorway. I groaned and instantly regretted it.

"Now listen here, young lady. I knowed you been raised betta than that. And don't think your little show on the front porch the other night escaped my notice."

I doubted I could juggle fruit on the front porch at three a.m. and escape Mildred's notice. "I'm sorry, Miss Mildred. I was expecting someone else."

"Yeah, the playboy that moved in next door to ya, huh? Well, I seen he's already been here too. I'm surprised you two weren't performin' vile acts in broad daylight again."

All I needed was for Steve to show up and hear Mildred talking about me making out with Joe. I turned to Violet in desperation, but she had already gotten out of the chair and walked up behind me.

"Well, h.e.l.lo, Miss Mildred! What do we owe the pleasure of your visit tonight?" Violet's cheerful voice cut the tension in the air.

"I saw your car in the driveway and wanted to come tell you h.e.l.lo."

I sincerely doubted the truthfulness of that statement. Violet's car had been in the driveway all afternoon.

Violet put her hand on Mildred's arm and pulled her through the front door. "How sweet of you! Why don't you come in and have a gla.s.s of tea with me?"

"Don't forget to put your jam away when you get home," I told Mildred, silently cursing my visions while I shut the door.

Mildred grumbled as she moved past me, giving me an evil glare. She had never hid the fact that she shared Momma's belief in my demon possession. Violet gave me a wink as they left the room. I had to admit, I owed her.

There was another knock. My front door had seen more action in one evening than it had in the last two months. I took another deep breath and opened it, half expecting to see Joe again. Instead, I saw the Pillsbury Doughboy, or as close to what I'd ever see in real life. He was missing the chef's hat and the kerchief, but his face was a pasty white and chubby, with big wide eyes like the Doughboy. His b.u.t.ton-down s.h.i.+rt barely contained his wide, round gut, and the b.u.t.tons threatened to pop. I resisted the urge to poke his belly with my finger to hear him giggle.

"Rose?" he asked, his voice shaking from fear. At least I think it was fear, from the look of pure terror on his face.

Nope, no giggling.

"Steve?" I asked, but I already knew it was him from the tie he wore and the Walmart flowers he held in his hand. Either that or he was a really generous Jehovah's Witness. "It's very nice to meet you." I said, trying to sound cheerful.

He stood in silence, staring at me with his big round eyes.

"Do you want to come in?" I raised my eyebrows in a happy, questioning look.

He remained rooted to the porch. It occurred to me perhaps Joe or Mildred had applied Super Glue on the wood slats.

"I'll just grab my purse." I said and he thrust the flowers toward me. "Oh, are those for me? Why, thank you!" I took the flowers, leaving the door open and Steve on the porch.

"Here!" I shoved the flowers at Violet in the kitchen. "Take care of these."

Violet's face lit up like a kid getting cotton candy at the carnival. "He brought you flowers?"

I glared at her.

"Who brought y'all flowers? The devil next door?"

"No, Miss Mildred." Violet said, patting Mildred's arm. "It's Rose's date."

"Date?" Mildred crowed. "After she carried on with that Yankee?"

"Don't worry, Miss Mildred. Steve's a good boy, good Henryetta stock. He's Stan Morris' grandson."

I already regretted agreeing to this date and I hadn't even left yet. I grabbed my purse and headed out the front door before Mildred and Violet decided to start checking Steve's teeth. He stood exactly where I left him, wearing the same terrified expression, except he leaned to the side. I worried he would fall over trying to see something in the living room.

"Looking for something?" I asked, glancing over my shoulder.

If possible, his eyes got even bigger as he violently shook his head.

I shut the door as I realized what he was looking for-evidence of Momma's murder. We started walking across the porch to the steps

I stood next to the pa.s.senger door of Steve's car. "Steve, I..." My words stopped on my tongue. Joe sat on his front porch, drinking a beer and watching my every move with a suspicious glint in his eye.

c.r.a.ppy doodles.

Steve waited for me to finish.

I smiled up at him with my sweetest smile, which I hoped would convince him I was incapable of murdering anyone, least of all my own Momma. "I just wanted to tell you how delighted I am that you're takin' me out to dinner." I said loud enough for Joe to hear. To finish it off, I raised up on my toes and kissed Steve on his pasty cheek, surprised it didn't taste like biscuit dough. I hoped Joe didn't see Steve cringe at the contact.

I sat in the front seat, waiting for Steve to get in, smiling my fake happy smile. I was almost surprised to see him get in, half expecting him to run screaming down the street. I had to admit he had a nice car, one he probably didn't want to leave behind with a murderer. If I could murder my own Momma, I bet he could only imagine what I would do to his poor Buick.

We drove to the restaurant in silence, me fidgeting with my hands on my lap and Steve griping the steering wheel with both hands, hanging on for dear life. He occasionally darted looks toward me out of the corner of his eye as if I was gonna attack him at any moment.

Steve pulled into the parking lot of Jaspers, one of Henryetta's nicest restaurants, which wasn't saying much. People in Henryetta weren't that fancy, in spite of all their bloodline talk. But Jaspers was a decent steak house, or so I heard. I'd never been there.

Steve opened my car door and the door to the restaurant, like a good upstanding boy from the South would. Any Southern mother who found out her son didn't hold a door open for a female of any age would get his ears boxed, regardless of the woman's criminal history.

After we were seated, I appraised Steve while he scoured his menu. He wasn't an unattractive man, just plenty soft around the edges and then some. He didn't see much sun either, from the look of his skin. I had suspected electricians were a little rougher. More like Joe, a thought I instantly squashed down.

There was no Joe.

"So Steve, Violet tells me you're an electrician," I said in a voice so sugar-laden that I expected to be attacked by a swarm of honeybees. Someone had to start a conversation or I would choke on the fear oozing out of Steve's pores.

He looked up startled. "Yeah." Then he jerked his head back down again.

I sighed. This was gonna be a long night.

"I've never been here before. Do you recommend anything?"

He mumbled something inaudible.

I debated letting it go but decided I'd make him talk to me whether he wanted to or not. Then I realized how ridiculous the whole situation was and burst out laughing.

Steve's head popped up, wide-eyed, mouth dropping open. He looked like he expected me to start waving a rolling pin around any minute. I wondered again why he asked me out. Then it came to me, as obvious as Suzanne's bleached hair. Mike was Steve's boss. Mike had forced him into it.

I was on a pity date. Only worse.

Just when I was about to excuse myself to the restroom, the waitress showed up to take our drink orders. Steve mumbled his drink to the waitress, who had to ask him to repeat it twice. I ordered water. I almost ordered wine, to knock number nine off my list, but didn't want to waste it on Steve.

"So, Steve, how long have you worked for Mike?"

Still looking down, Steve mumbled something.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't quite hear you. What was that?"

"Four years."

The waitress returned with our drinks and took our orders. Disappointment dampened my hunger, but I decided to get a big dinner and take the leftovers home. I felt a momentary bit of guilt over spending Steve's money frivolously, but decided he could deal with it. Sure, he might be miserable, but so was I.

Rose Gardner was done accepting miserable.

I ordered a big steak with a baked potato and a salad. The waitress walked away and Steve no longer had his menu to hide behind.

We sat in silence, despite my continued attempts at getting him to talk. Finally, I gave up. I checked out the decor and the other patrons. My eyes roamed halfway around the room stopping for a couple of minutes on a big group celebrating someone's birthday. I smiled, wis.h.i.+ng I was with them, and then my gaze moved a couple of tables away.

I locked eyes with Daniel Crocker, the man that triggered my vision at the DMV. He sat with four other men. The others were involved in what appeared to be a serious conversation, but he watched me with open curiosity. I looked away, a blush beginning to flush my cheeks. Did he know who I was?

I excused myself to go to the restroom. Steve looked eager for me to go, and I rushed down the hall. Why would Daniel Crocker be looking at me? Was he the one who murdered my mother? I couldn't imagine that he knew it was me. Even if he remembered me from the DMV, I looked completely different now.

Violet had put a compact of powder and tube of lipstick in my purse. I applied both, taking an ample amount of time on each. When I couldn't stall any longer, I went back out to the table only to find Steve's chair empty.

I sat down, wondering if he had gone to the bathroom, too. After a few minutes, the waitress returned with my food. She looked apologetic.

"Your date said he suddenly didn't feel well and had to go. But he paid for your dinner and left money for you to take a taxi home."

I felt like crying although, for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why. I didn't even like him. But if someone like him dumped me, then I really was a pathetic loser.

"Could you just box it up?" I asked. "I think I'll take it to go." I stood up and grabbed my purse. "In fact, I'll just wait out front." I couldn't stand the embarra.s.sment of waiting alone at the table.

She patted my arm. "For what it's worth, sweetie, you can do a whole lot better than that weasel. You go wait in the bar. My name's Bridgette. Tell the bartender I sent you over and he'll take care of you. I'll box this up and bring it over. "

The crowded bar roared with conversation, not surprising on a Sat.u.r.day night. I spotted an open stool at the counter and sat down. The bartender walked over.

"What can I get for ya, darlin'?"

"Um, Bridgette said to tell you she sent me over." I had no idea why, but I couldn't see a reason not to tell him.

"Oh, so you're her." He looked me over. "Bridgette told me what happened. I can't figure out why a guy would walk away from you, darlin'. His loss." He shook his head. "Drink's on the house. What's it gonna be?"

"Uh, a gla.s.s of wine?"

"Red? White?"

I had no idea. "White?"

"Chardonnay, Pinot Grigio..." his list continued and I was lost. He saw the confusion on my face and laughed. "Not a wine drinker, eh?"

He was a burly looking guy, with tattoos and piercings, but he had a friendly face. His nametag said Sloan. For whatever reason, I trusted him. "Honestly, I'm not really a drinker at all. I only had my first drink a few days ago."

"Ah, a virgin in our midst."

I felt my face burn and only seconds later realized he meant a virgin drinker.

"Don't worry, darlin', I'll take good care of you. Be right back."

I waited for Sloan to return with my drink, when I heard a voice in my ear.

"What's a pretty little thing like you doin' alone? Where'd that Great White Whale get off to?"

I turned around, half expecting Joe to be standing behind me. Instead, it was Daniel Crocker. My heart leapt into my throat.

"Uh..."

He slid in between my stool and the one next to me, which was occupied by a woman deep in conversation with the man beside her.

He leaned his head close to mine. "I'm Dan. What's your name?"

I froze in panic. I knew I had to say something. "Rose."

"Ah, a fittin' name for a beautiful flower such as yourself. Can I get you a drink?"

"I...I already have one. Comin'. He's bringin' it." I was babbling like an idiot. I had to get it together.

He laughed. "Do I make you nervous, Rose?"

I resisted the urge to bolt from the room and run all the way home. I had to find out if he had something to do with Momma's murder, or at the very least if he recognized me. The latter was answered immediately.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" He tilted his head to the side to study me. "You look so familiar."