CHAPTER TWO
(part one)
Sunday morning—11 a.m.
Fairmount Historic District, Fort Worth
Days: 8
“You know what I think,” Don Downs touched her shoulder to wake her.
“Hmm.”
Loraine “Lo” Downs rolled onto her side to look at him. The crisp white sheet lay across his tanned muscular shoulders. He reached out to move a piece of blonde hair from her face.
“Good morning.” He leaned over to kiss her.
“Hello beautiful,” she said. “What did you have in mind?”
“I think we should spend the entire day laughing,” Don said.
“You’re in court all week,” Lo said. “I have the no-carbs grumpies. How…?”
Don tossed the sheet in the air and scooched across the bed to her. She rolled onto her back. He kissed her face and her eyes and then wrapped his body around her.
“Love you, Lo.” He began tickling her. “Love you.” Tickle. “Love you.” Tickle. “Love you.”
Lo laughed.
“See! We’ve already started the day laughing,” he laughed with delight. “Never let the bastards get you down.”
“You know how to keep me from being down,” Lo said.
“No I don’t, little lady,” Don laughed. “Why don’t you instruct me in the finer arts?”
In one swift motion, Lo pushed him to the bed. Her lips moved across his face until they caught his mouth. He tugged at her, but she resisted engaging. She just wanted to kiss him this morning.
Pound. Pound. Pound.
“Don?” Lo sat up in bed. “Don?”
Her voice rose with panic. Don wasn’t in bed with her. In fact, she wasn’t in her bed. She rotated around to sit on the side of the twin bed. Looking around the room, she had no idea where she was.
Where was Don?
He was just here. He was just right here. She patted the bed where he’d been. They had started making love and Don was never distracted from love-making no matter what happened and…
Pound. Pound. Pound.
A shard of pain shot through her core.
Don was dead. She’d forgotten. Again. Don was dead.
She was at her mother’s house; the house she was born in; the house her mother had hanged herself in. Her house, Don’s house, their house was foreclosed while she was burying him.
She should have thrown herself in that hole.
She had to fight to take a full breath. If she didn’t know better, she’d have sworn she had a gaping hole where her heart once lived. She put her head between her knees to keep from throwing up.
Pound. Pound. Pound.
Wearing only a Dolly the Sheep T-shirt and panties, she went down the wide oak stairwell to the ground floor. Her memory filled in the image of her mother’s lifeless body hanging from the living room ceiling fan.
“Hi Mom.”
Waving, she continued walking to the front door. She flipped the lock and peeked out. Her little sister Lisa stood on her doorstep wearing her “get things done” outfit – blonde hair in braids, a bandana over her head, old jeans and one of her husband Earl’s old work T-shirts. She had four or five plastic grocery bags in her hand and her purse strap over her shoulder.
“It’s eleven o’clock!” Lisa said. “What the hell are you doing? You can’t sleep all day.”
Lisa pushed her way into the house.
“Why didn’t you call me?” Lisa asked. “I sat next to you at the funeral and a few hours later you’re homeless?”
“I don’t know,” Lo’s eyes filled with tears. “This whole thing… I…”
“Never mind,” Lisa said. “I’m here now.”
Lisa stopped in the doorway to the living room and stared.
“Do you see her there?” Lisa whispered.
“Larry too,” Lo nodded.
“I know she’s not there, but…” Lisa said. “God that’s creepy.”
Lisa pushed and prodded Lo into the kitchen. She set the bags on the Formica table in the middle of the room and began unpacking groceries. Lo leaned against the door frame to watch her sister. Within minutes, Lisa had bacon and eggs sizzling on the stove. She revealed a box of cinnamon doughnut holes and a bag of coffee grounds. Lisa gave the coffee to Lo.
Lo rummaged through the cabinets until she found her mother’s old percolator. She filled it with water and dropped the basket of coffee. She watched the coffee bubble in the little glass handle on top of the pot. This simple act was the first thing Lo had accomplished since she’d heard Don was sick.
“What’s that?” Lo pointed to a clump of grey-green leaves tied with a bright-red string.
“This is sage,” Lisa said. “We’re going to burn the sage, open the windows, and let the ghosts out of this place.”
Lo lifted her lips in a partial smile.
“Where’s your car?” Lisa asked.
“In front,” Lo said.
“Of this house?” Lisa shook her head.
Lo ran out the front door to where she’d parked her car. Gone. She dropped to her knees to touch the ground where the vehicle had been. Overcome, she began keening with grief.
“They came this morning,” a woman’s voice said.
Lo felt a hand on her shoulder. Through blurry eyes, Lo looked to see who was there.
“I asked them,” a dark-skinned woman said. “They told me they had to take it. It was their job. I told them that wasn’t much of a job. They told me about the economy and a bunch of other garbage.”
“Mrs. Williams?” Lo whispered.
“Yes, child,” the elderly woman said.
“Mrs. Williams,” Lo repeated. She looked up into the lined face of her mother’s next door neighbor. “I’m glad to see your face.”
“I’m glad to see you too,” Mrs. Williams said. “I usually see that husband of yours. Great man. He brought me groceries. Once a week. Not ‘cuz I can’t afford them, just ‘cuz I don’t move around so good anymore. I cried when I heard he’d passed.”
“Don’s dead,” Lo said.
“Yes, child,” Mrs. Williams said.
“Lo!” Lisa screamed from the porch. Lisa ran across the yard to her sister. She stopped short when she saw who was standing next to Lo. “Mrs. Williams.”
Lisa did an odd curtsey and Mrs. Williams laughed. The elderly woman held her arm out to Lisa and gave her a hug.
“Now, I read in the Star-Telegram that you bought that car after winning that Olympia thing,” Mrs. Williams said.
“Three years ago. Lo bought this car when she won Ms. Fitness Olympia the first time,” Lisa said. “Don insisted she get something she’d use every day, so she’d remember she’d won.”
“Paid cash for my car,” Lo said.
“Why did they take your car?” Mrs. Williams asked.
“Nothing makes any sense right now.” Lo shook her head.
“I’ll tell you what we do,” Mrs. Williams said. “We call the police and tell them that someone stole your car. We let them sort it out.”
“That’s a good idea,” Lisa said.
“Let’s get you up,” Mrs. Williams said.
Mrs. Williams and Lisa dragged Lo to her feet. A leering man jogged by them before turning into Fairmount Park. Mrs. Williams took Lo by the elbow and passed her to Lisa.
“You take her inside,” Mrs. Williams said. “I’ll call the police.”
Leaning on her cane, the elderly woman began a slow journey to her home next door. Lisa navigated Lo back into the kitchen and sat her down on a cracked-vinyl padded chair at the Formica table. Lisa returned to cooking. Lo picked at the chair’s stuffing through the cracks in the vinyl.
Neither sister said anything until Lisa set a cup of coffee with half-and-half in front of her sister.
“What do you think is going on?” Lisa asked.
“I have no idea,” Lo said. “Really. None. Don and I went over our finances every single Sunday. We’d sit down with a bottle of wine and go through them. The house was paid off. My car… his car… he had money from his father. Money for the girls… Oh God! I bet they froze Mandy’s school funds.”
Lo dropped her head to the table. She rolled her forehead on the cool Formica surface.
“What am I going to do?” Lo asked.
“Better yet,” Lisa grimaced. “What are you wearing?”
“Oh,” Lo looked down at the shirt. “I found this in my old room last night.”
“Dolly the Sheep?”
“I was pretty fascinated with cloning,” Lo picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite. “Still am. Do you think I could clone Don?”
Lisa shook her head. Turning her back to her sister, Lisa finished making breakfast and set two plates on the table. She poured Lo more coffee and sat down across from her.
“I’ll tell you what,” Lisa said.
Lo looked up over her coffee cup at her sister.
“Someone gave this a lot of thought, a lot of energy, and a lot of time.” Lisa emphasized her points with stabs of her fork. “This is no random screw up, Lo. Someone planned to screw you. They methodically planned it and waited for their chance. The question is, who? Anyone really hate you?”
“The hex-wife Sue Ellen’s got to be at the front of the line,” Lo said.
“She’s more likely to sic her little yappy dogs…”
“Miss Princess Barbie and Mr. Ken?” Lo asked.
“They’d bite your ankles for sure,” Lisa said.
“She’s not very bright,” Lo said. “What about Ruth Ann?”
Lisa laughed at the mention of Larry’s wife.
“But that’s right,” Lisa said. “I can’t think of anyone either. Who hates Lo? Who hated Don? No one.”
Lisa shrugged.
“Maybe there’s something else going on,” Lo said.
“Oh God, Lo,” Lisa said. “What if Don was murdered?
The Queen of Cool continues next week…
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The Queen of Cool is an intense mystery set in Fort Worth, Texas
by Claudia Hall Christian.
The novel is available in paperback and electronic books at Cook Street Store.
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