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THE CONVERSATION I HAD had earlier with Julie about meeting with mother raced through my head as I cleared my throat and tried to get put together before answering.
“Hi Mom.” I pulled down my visor mirror to see if I had any bacon in my teeth.
“Hi dear. I was just calling to see if you had had a good time last night. I am so glad you got to have a fun night out! And Julie too, of course. Love her quiche! That girl can really cook!” Mom just kept going.
“Yes, both Julie and I had lots of fun. It was a fun evening!” I put my visor back up and just sat in the car, rubbing my forehead. I watched two policemen leave the store, get in their cars, and drive off.
“Are you still staying with Julie? Or has this horrible crime thing gone away?” Mom had clearly not seen the news or the Friendly Fairview Facebook group this morning!
“I’m still staying with Julie.” I really didn’t want to elaborate any further. Soon enough, I would have to answer all her questions. Why rush things? I looked at my watch and was surprised that it was only 1:30. I took a deep breath. It was still lunchtime, I guessed.
“I just wanted to make sure you had a good time. I know I twisted your arm to be there and everything.” Mom went on.
“Hey Mom, have you had lunch?” I had decided to just jump off the proverbial cliff.
“No. I just left an 11:00 meeting that ran long. I had a few minutes, so thought I would call and see how you are.”
“Want to meet me for lunch? Julie has some work to catch up on and I will be in her way at the condo.” Well, it was the truth.
“What about the store? Don’t you have to be at work?” Mom was on it. Sigh!
“No, the store is ok. It’s covered.” That was true! “So, want to get lunch?” This was turning into a lot of work.
“That sounds wonderful. Where should I meet you?”
“How about The Nifty Nacho on River Drive? See you there in 10?” I would have preferred The Caffeine Machine, but I had already been there once today.
“Ooooh! Taco’s sound incredible! See you in 10!” Mom hung up her phone. I sighed again, started my car, and headed toward River Drive.
When I got to the restaurant, Mom turned in right ahead of me. I followed her to a parking space and parked right beside her.
“Oh Lisa! This is such a good idea! It’s been ages since we’ve met for more than a coffee.” Mom beamed and put her chic little clutch bag under her arm. I hoisted my black tote up on my shoulder like I was a logger or something.
“Of course! I’m glad you called when you did! Just in time!” As much as I wanted to dread meeting up with Mom, we did always have a good time. Today, however, I was not so sure how pleasant it was really going to be. She still evidently did not know about Doug Andres and the morning I had just had. I would have to tell her. I did not want to.
We went into the restaurant. I was always amazed at how the sound of a mariachi band made me crave cheese enchiladas! But once again, I heard the recorded mariachi music and salivated like one of Pavlov’s dogs!
We were soon seated in a small booth for two in the one corner of the restaurant. I was grateful that we had apparently missed the lunch rush and there were only a few people still eating or waiting for their food.
I went for the more pleasant topic of Mom’s friends before I broached the less cheerful topic of, well, murder.
“You had a great turn-out last night!” I smiled at Mom as I dipped one of the complementary tortilla chips in some of the watered-down complementary salsa.
“I couldn’t believe it! It made for a wonderful Bunco night! All those tables. And everyone brought such good food, you would have thought that it was catered!” Mom also reached for a chip.
“So, I had a pretty pleasant conversation with Gina Miller.” I baited her.
“Gina is great! I really enjoy Gina!” The bait had not been taken. Mom took a gulp of her margarita. I decided to persevere!
“Gina hasn’t lived in Fairview that long, has she?” Ok, I opened the door, Mom! Charge through.
“Just two or three years. Her husband works in IT for the school district, I think.” And another gulp of margarita. This was so frustrating!
“It was noisy when we were talking last night. I may have missed a lot of what she was saying. Her husband’s name is Wayne?”
“I think so. He keeps to himself. I’ve only seen him half a dozen times. Gina doesn’t talk about him that much. You know, long marriage, kids are grown. I think the relationship has run its course. But that is just my personal speculation, you understand.” Mom went back to her margarita. She was sure enjoying it.
“Does she work?” I casually bit into another chip.
“Not anymore. I think she was a teacher or something. Now she mainly volunteers and works on community projects. She is on several boards with me. She also headed up the Spring Bazaar at St. Matthew’s last spring. I guess it came off pretty well.” Mom stopped, smiled at me, dipped a chip and had some more of her margarita. I was running out of leading questions. Mom seemed to have no idea about Gina’s harp career or her time at the Birchard Institute of Music. Didn’t Mom stalk her own friends on Facebook? Even I stalked her friends! Ok, new tact.
“I met her friend. Was it Evangeline Tate? Gina called her Evie.” I coyly sipped my strawberry daiquiri.
“Ah. Gina called around three yesterday afternoon to ask if she could bring a guest. I said sure! Just in case someone sat out Bunco, it’s always nice to have extra bodies, you know. So, the numbers work out.” Oh, Mom, please don’t say bodies.
“Do you know anything about her? She seemed to be older than Gina?” I was working abnormally hard here! And our food hadn’t even arrived!
“I think Gina said that she, Evie, was from Spokane. I think she is a former teacher of Gina’s or something like that. Ooooh, here’s our lunch!” Mom exclaimed as the waiter approached our table with two large, brightly colored platters.
“Careful, they are hot,” the waiter said as he set the platters in front of us.
“Thank you!” Mom beamed up at him.
“Thanks!” I added. The waiter gave a quick nod of his head and went on his way.
“Her teacher? Do you know what she taught?” I prodded.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Lisa, I don’t know! Why this obsession with Gina? Eat your chimichanga!” Mom gestured with her fork full of beans at my untouched chimichanga. I made a face and dug in. Maybe once Mom had had some food, she would be more willing to share. Maybe she should also order another margarita.
As we ate, I intentionally kept the talk general. After we had finished and were both totally stuffed, I gave it another go.
“I hoped you would be head usher for the recitals this weekend. You were planning to be there, correct?” I knew she was, but I was trying to be the good business owner.
“Of course. I have them all on my calendar. What does being head usher entail?” Mom started looking around hopefully for the waiter to get a margarita refill.
“Making sure the other usher volunteers are there. Explaining how the seats numbers work. Working with the police that will provide security.” I immediately took a drink of water, trying to be super casual.
“The police will be there providing security?” Mom’s eyes were wide, and I knew full well it wasn’t from the tequila in her margarita.
“Well, yes. You know, with what happened to Esther and to Andrew. Detective Winn says we just need to play it safe.” I smiled a reassuring smile I knew was completely non-convincing.
“Ok, Lisa, I’m not buying it. What haven’t you told me?” Mom was looking at me with spears coming out of her eyes. I felt like I was nine and going to be grounded for all eternity if I didn’t fess up about the Oreos that I had snuck from the pantry. I was never actually grounded for all eternity, maybe a week at most, but her look definitely said all eternity.
“Well, there was, well, another murder.”
“What?” Mom’s eyes were blazing now. “And you only choose to tell me this now?”
“I wanted to avoid worrying you.” It sounded really lame because it was.
“That should have been the first thing out of your mouth, Lisa Kathleen!” Mom glared, and I’d been middle named. Not good. “Who was it?”
“Doug Andres. Light tech from the high school.” I tried to sound flip, but think I only sounded like a jerk.
“Oh. I don’t know him. I only told you about him because Barb Jeffries said he does tech stuff at their church. She said he could probably help you out, so I gave you his name. I didn’t think someone would kill him.”
“I forgot you gave me his name.” How did I forget that? My brain seemed to disintegrate with all this stuff.
“Yes, remember right after that one recital was over, and you said you didn’t know what to do with the lights. I went to my Ladies First Friday Tea the very next day and mentioned it. Barb popped right up with the name Doug Andres.”
“Who was at your table when you had this conversation?” Ok, things were clicking. Maybe.
“The usual. Gina Miller, Margie Hillerman, Barb Jeffries, and Leigh Porter.” Mom smiled.
“And they all heard you get Doug Andes’s name from Barb?”
“I don’t know, dear. They may have been talking among themselves. It was a couple of months ago.”
“And none of them had anyone else to suggest?” This was hard work and exhausting. Detective Winn had better appreciate this!
“No. I think they all knew him. They all go to the same church. I’m the only non-Catholic of the group.”
“Gina, Margie, Barb, and Leigh are all Catholic and go to the same church?” I quizzed.
“Well, not Leigh. As I recall, I think she is an Episcopalian. But I am sure that Gina, Margie and Barb are Catholic.” Mom nodded her head reassuringly.
“What church is that? That they all attend?”
“Why Saint Matthew’s? I told you that earlier.” Mom popped the mint that had been placed on the table, with the check, into her mouth. She then picked up the check and headed to the register with her credit card. I sat back in my seat. So, Gina Miller knew that Doug Andres was working on the festival. Very interesting.