Free Laid Out and Candle Lit by Ann Everett Page A

thirteen when Boone came along. Her mother’s pregnancy embarrassed her. You know how thirteen-year-old girls can be.”
    Ridge tried to keep a straight face while Bernice nodded and grunted agreement to every statement Fayrene made.
    “Especially a spoiled rich thirteen-year-old,” Fayrene continued. “Marlene loved Boone. She was like a little mother to him. And when their parents died so tragically in the plane crash, she actually took on the role of mother.” She nodded sadly.
    “Now, Tizzy on the other hand, even though she’s a little quirky, is the sweetest girl in the world. She has a kind heart. She helps out at the bank and volunteers at the clinic. You know she talks to the residents in the cemetery,” Bernice said, lowering her voice an octave.
    Ridge smiled. “So I’m told.”
    “Well, I believe she does,” Bernice said. “As a matter of fact, sometimes I ask her to deliver messages to my husband.”
    Fayrene rested her hands on her hips. “Well, no matter if she does or not. She’s still a sweet girl. Couldn’t hurt a fly.”
    Fayrene wrapped some cookies in a napkin and handed them to Ridge. “Take this home with you for later.”
    “Thank you,” he said. “Earlier, when I asked about Marlene and Carl’s relationship, you both rolled your eyes. You said they were happy, but do you believe they were?”
    Fayrene and Bernice took a glance at each other and Fayrene answered. “Well, they appeared to be. But given Marlene’s disposition, I doubt any man alive could have made her happy. Wouldn’t you say so, Bernice?”
    “I guess so.” She leaned in and cupped her mouth with her hand and whispered. “I don’t think she and Carl had sex anymore.”
    Fayrene jerked her head around. “Bernice! I cannot believe you are talking about s-e-x in the Lord’s house. What is wrong with you?”
    “Good grief, Fayrene. The Lord knows who is and who isn’t having sex, and if He didn’t want people doing it, He would’ve made it feel like a root canal.”
    Ridge struggled to keep his composure “What makes you think they weren’t?”
    “Well, my housekeeper is friends with their housekeeper, and mine told me.” Bernice glanced at the clock. “Wow! Look at the time. I’ve gotta go. Company’s coming to my house and I promised them some homemade spaghetti and I can’t find a can of tomato sauce in this town. I’ve got to go all the way to Tyler to get some.”
    Ridge smiled at the reference and thought, finally a piece of information about Marlene’s marriage with a possible bearing on the case. Then again, if every forty-year-old married person not having sex was murdered, the ground would be covered in bodies. But as a man, Ridge knew if Carl Weston wasn’t gettin’ any at home, he most likely was gettin’ it somewhere.
     
    * * * * *
     
    Ridge took a chair at the table with Bubba and Dan as Rayann sashayed over to take their order, her skin, a light shade of pink and her blonde hair at least three shades darker. “Damn, Rayann! You look like you’ve got cotton candy on your head,” Dan said.
    Rayann narrowed her eyes. “Hush up, Dan. I’m not in the mood for any more pink jokes.” She looked at Bubba with puppy-dog eyes and whined, “Do you think my hair looks like cotton candy?”
    Bubba took her hand and kissed it. “Baby, cotton candy is spun sugar. It melts on your tongue like magic. I love cotton candy,” he said and kissed her hand again.
    “Thank you, Dwayne,” she cooed.
    She left with the order and Dan smirked at Bubba. “Damn, you are so whipped, it’s pitiful.”
    “You think? Take my word, I’m not whipped. That, my man, is called foreplay. Later tonight, I can guarantee you, I’ll have cotton candy all over me.” He laughed.
    Tizzy delivered an order to the next table and Ridge motioned to her. “Too bad about your little mishap.”
    She cut him off short. “Don’t start with me, Cooper. Rayann and I have listened to every possible pink joke in the