Drop Dead Sexy(24)

Pease hobbled over to me. After giving me the once-over, she leaned in and took a giant whiff of me. A triumphant look flashed in her eyes. “Hot damn, you’ve been with a man!”

Her exclamation sent a jolt through me like I’d been tasered. I stood there with what probably was a total deer-in-the-headlights expression. “Um, excuse me?”

With a smirk, Pease replied, “Don’t play coy. You heard me the first time.”

After glancing between her and Mama, I shook my head. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Pease huffed out a frustrated breath. “Trust me, I know the smell of sex.”

“Ew. How is that even possible when I showered?” I blurted before I could stop myself.

“Aha. I knew it,” Pease gloated as she snapped her gnarled fingers.

When I dared to look at my mother, she stared back at me with a puzzled expression. “But you were at the cabin until seven.”

“I stopped at a bar to have a drink.”

“With a side of cock,” Pease replied.

I pinched my eyes shut and willed the floor to open up and swallow me whole. At my mother’s strangled cry, I opened them. “You mean, you went home with some strange man?”

At that moment, I had a choice. I could lie and say I met up with an old college boyfriend or high school acquaintance. Or I could tell the truth and further horrify my mother. While she might’ve appreciated crotchless panties and body oils, they were only to be used within the sanctity of a relationship. No one would ever see her in pasties without a commitment. Her sexual ideas also extended to me.

I decided for today honesty would be the best policy. My breath exhaled in a nervous rush as I placed my hand on her shoulder. “Yes, Mama, I went home with a ‘strange man’. Except I didn’t go home—we went to the Holiday Inn off Route 53. And as the night progressed, he wasn’t that much of a stranger—”

“I’d hardly say anyone you knew in the Biblical sense could be considered a stranger,” Pease remarked.

After shooting her a look, I continued. “His name is Catcher Mains, and he’s an agent with the GBI.”

My mother blinked a few times as she processed my words. “Will you be seeing him again?”

“I don’t think so considering I snuck out this morning.”

Mama sighed. “But why?”

“You really want me to answer that question?”

“Yes. I do. I never thought a daughter of mine would do such a thing.”

Pease crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh lighten up, Maureen. It was a one-night stand, not armed robbery or murder.”

Mama rolled her eyes at Pease. “I mean it. What if you get an FTD?”

“That’s STD,” I corrected.

She waved her hand. “Whatever.” Her eyes widened. “What if he got you pregnant?”

“I might be sexually na?ve, but I’m not stupid. We used protection, not to mention I’m on birth control.”

Mama looked slightly relieved, but then her hand went to fiddle anxiously with her pearls. “Is this something you’re going to be doing on a regular basis?”

I laughed. “No, Mama. It was a one-time thing—a way to put the past behind me.”

“You just needed to scratch an itch, right?” Pease suggested.

“If you must put it that way, then yes.”

A knock came on the kitchen door. I snorted contemptuously at the sight of Brandon Jenkins, Taylorsville’s newest Sheriff’s deputy, standing in the doorway. Sweeping a hand to my hip, I narrowed my eyes at my mother. “You seriously called the law on me when I didn’t answer the phone?”

She shook her head in protest when Brandon stepped forward. He took his hat off before speaking. “Sorry to bother you, Ms. Sullivan. But there seems to be a situation over at Mr. Dickinson’s house.”

I furrowed my brows in confusion. “A situation?”

Brandon’s fingers played along the brim of his hat. “He’s been murdered.”

An incredulous chorus of “Murdered?” came from me, Mama, and Pease.

“Yes, ma’ams. It does appear that way.”

I swallowed hard, trying to suppress the rising anxiety that tightened my chest. Taylorsville hadn’t had a murder since the seventies, and that was back when Dwayne Bassey pulled double duty as the chief of police and coroner. Now it was all on my shoulders.

Mama swept a hand over her heart. “That sweet man. Who could possibly want to kill him?”

“Some disgruntled Medicare customer who was pissed they couldn’t afford their medicine anymore?” Pease suggested.

Randall “Randy” Dickinson owned the only drug store in town. He’d been the kindly pharmacist my mother consulted whenever Allen and I were sick. He also sang bass in the First Baptist choir. Although he was seen from time to time having dinner with some of the widows in town, he’d always been a confirmed bachelor, which was surprising since he wasn’t a bad looking guy. If you put him and nine other men in town in a lineup, he would have been the last one I would have ever imagined being murdered.

After downing the rest of my coffee for fortification, I drew my shoulders back and got in the coroner zone. “You guys called the GBI?”