Free Down Home and Deadly by Christine Lynxwiler, Jan Reynolds, Sandy Gaskin Page A

numb.
    “Yes, you.” She snapped her fingers in my face. “Hello? You do work here, don’t you?”
    “Oh. Yes.” I glanced at my watch. “In about twenty minutes.”
    “Why don’t I wait for you outside under one of them big shade trees? I need somebody to show me around town , and I don’t know a soul here. Unless you count poor ole Jimmy’s , and that ain’t much help.” Another roar of laughter.
    I debated. A little of this woman went a long way. On the other hand, she’d known J.D. in his youth. Perhaps she could shed some light on who would kill him, or at least, why.
    “I’ll meet you in the parking lot in a few minutes,” I answered.
    “Good girl.” She left a five - dollar bill on the table and gave me a wink. “That’s to celebrate my good fortune. I believe in spreading it around.”
    As she exited, followed by many fascinated gazes, I went to the kitchen to see if Carly needed help in view of Debbie’s departure. To my surprise, Debbie, scrubbed clean of strawberries, though still somewhat stained, was dishing up food , keeping her eyes fixed on her work. I went back to waiting tables until the noon surge had subsided then hung up my apron .
    I stepped into the kitchen and quickly filled Carly in on my new acquaintance.
    “You’re going for a ride with a stranger?” she asked, obviously puzzled.
    I shrugged. “You’d just have to meet her. I need to find out as much as I can about J.D. , and I think she can help me.”
    “Keep your cell phone on.”
    “I will,” I called and headed out to meet my new acquaintance.
    “I was about to come hunting you, honey. But I figured you couldn’t get past me unless you went out the back door and hid behind the D umpster.” I shivered. The D umpster was the last place I would ever hide from anyone.
    “Hop in this roadster of mine , and let’s see what this little town has to offer.” She opened the passenger door of an older Mustang, fire-engine red and well kept. I climbed in , and she ran around and sank into the driver’s seat, turned the key , and revved the engine. I glanced around. All I needed was for John or Seth to run up and write a ticket. I’d never live it down. But we got safely away in a spurt of loose gravel and headed down the main drag of Lake View .
    “We get lots of tourists, Mrs. Finley,” I began.
    She began to look around, even craning her neck to look in the backseat. I clung to the seat belt strap with white knuckles as the car careened from one lane to the other.
    She brayed another of her loud laughs.
    “What are you doing?” I asked.
    “I was looking for Mrs. Finley. If you meant me, my name’s Jolene. I ain’t been ‘Mrs.’ nothin’ since I was a kid. And I took my maiden name after Jimmy Dean left me. Yep, Jolene Highwater, that’s me. Now, little lady, what’s your name?”
    “Jenna Stafford.” I waited a beat, al though I doubted Jolene would be the type to watch the Olympics, much less remember one has-been from years ago. Apparently I was right.
    “Pleased to meetcha, honey . ” S he removed her right hand from the steering wheel and stuck it out. I shook it and released it quickly, hoping she’d return it and her attention to where they belonged . She noticed my nervousness and laughed again. She certainly was a happy woman. “Jimmy always said I was the worst kinda driver, a polite one. When I talk to someone, I look at ’em .”
    “Well, we have several hills and curves in this part of the country, so that may not be a good idea . ” I spoke quickly, lest she look too long and miss a curve.
    “You know, I hadn’t even hardly thought about Jimmy Dean for the last few years. I’d really put him out of my mind. He was just a youthful mistake, you know?” She looked over at me , and I nodded.
    After what seemed like an eternity, she looked back at the road. “But ever since that lawyer guy called, I keep remembering when we was together. I thought there wadn’t no good memories, but