Free The Saucy Lucy Murders by Cindy Keen Reynders

headed.
    “We hear you two were, how to say …” Again she looked up at the ceiling.
“Date?
” She poked her husband, who was leaning back in his chair reading a newspaper. He grunted in response but didn’t lower the reading material. Akiko narrowed her almond-shaped eyes. “Everybody in town knows about it. You be careful. Maybe not so many people come into café now. They afraid.”
    Lexie was stunned. What kind of wild gossip was going on in Moose Creek Junction? Would people really stop coming here to eat?
    She couldn’t survive without her café business. Surely folks wouldn’t stop coming just because of some wild gossip. But as Lexie told herself that, cold reality hit her in the stomach. People were fickle. Still, so far things at the Saucy Lucy had been running smoothly and customers came and went just like before Whitehead’s murder. Akiko probablydidn’t know what she was talking about.
    “I heard about the murder, too,” Lexie told Akiko. “And yes, I knew Henry Whitehead. But only briefly. We weren’t dating. Not really.”
    “Ah, so sad that man die. Buddhist belief say that dead spirits live on in other things. Maybe he now exists as a tree or a bush or an insect. One does not know for sure, but one must always be prepared to respect all living things. Could be something like a drum is one of your ancient ancestors.”
    Lexie pondered that for a moment. “Does that mean maybe my dead mother lives on as a mixing bowl because she loved to cook?”
    Akiko gave a slight bow.
“Hai.
Strange things happen in Buddhist belief. Bless your bowls before you cook. This will honor your mother.”
    Lexie briefly considered the idea of blessing her mixing bowls and how to go about it. Then the weird idea of Whitehead passing over and returning to earth as a flea popped into her head. Ah, she’d done it again! What a terrible way to consider the recently departed.
    “I’ll have to think about it, Akiko,” she said to the little Japanese woman, putting the idea of Whitehead as a flea and her mother as a mixing bowl completely out of her mind. “Please, enjoy your meal.”
    Ian grunted again before putting down his newspaper and diving into his food. Akiko gave Lexie another slight bow, her tiny silver earrings tinkling against her faded pink cheeks.
“Sayonara.”
    Lexie returned to the counter and quickly immersed herself in taking care of her other customers. She was still irritated at herself for buying into Akiko’s Buddhist belief enough to consider a dead person as an inanimate object when the phone rang. Her last customer, one of the local farmers in coveralls and a green John Deere ball cap, picked up his order and sat at a bistro table near the soda machine.
    Lexie figured the call was probably from Otis wanting to make good and sure she was behaving herself. It was about time for her brother-in-law to start harassing her for always being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was definitely a cross to bear. Lexie wondered how her sister could stand living with him.
    Hesitantly, Lexie put the cordless phone to her ear, grabbed a large spoon and stirred a crock-pot full of golden broth, tender white meat chunks, vegetables and fat, homemade noodles. “Saucy Lucy Café,” she said into the mouthpiece. “This is Lexie, how may I help you?”
    “We need to talk.”
    “Excuse me?” Lexie stopped stirring the chicken soup, her spoon poised in mid-air. “Who is this?”
    “Detective Stevenson.”
    Lexie couldn’t stop a trace of annoyance from creeping into her voice. “Well, hello to you, too. How goes the investigation? Have you found the murderer yet?” After Lexie said that, she wanted to smack herself. She sounded like a complete dork.
    “We’re making progress. And it appears we’ve found the murder weapon—we’re still conducting tests. But it’s important I speak with you ASAP.”
    Lexie’s blood turned to ice cubes in her veins and she nearly choked.