Grinning mischievously, Bennett said, “It’s not a little green elf is it?”
James poked him in the side with a celery stick. “Not funny. The twins are still hunting for that thing.”
“Hey, keep your celery to yourself, man.”
Lucy’s hand was sweeping around the interior of her bag. Exasperated, she pulled out balled up receipts, gum wrappers, and tissues until she could see more clearly.
“I’d suggest you just dump the whole thing out onto the table, but I’m afraid of what might come outta there,” Bennett teased.
“Like the rest of Peter Cottontail?” James playfully brandished the faux-fur rabbit’s foot.
Gillian took a seat next to Lucy. “Or perhaps a few weapons?”
Ignoring her friends, Lucy scowled as she rummaged through side pockets. “Here it is!” She handed Bennett a pencil. “Keep this in your pocket. It’s the luckiest thing I own.”
Bennett grunted. “Thanks, friend, but this is an oral quiz. We only write somethin’ for the final question and I think they’ve got special pens for that. I don’t want to mess up their blue boards and owe them money, you know?”
Pointing at the pencil, Lucy scowled. “ That is the pencil I used on the written test I needed to pass to leave my life as an administrative assistant behind. It was the most important test I’ve ever taken and that was what I used to get a nearly perfect score.” She smiled at him affectionately. “Now it’s going to help you get all the answers right.”
Eyeing the pencil with newfound respect, Bennett grinned. “It’ll be in the shirt pocket right over my heart.” He gazed at his friends and held out his hands, palms up. “How could a man lose with so much luck on his side? Shoot, I feel downright sorry for the other contestants. No way they could be gettin’ the send-off I’m gettin’. I practically feel like royalty.”
“Half the town is gathering at Dolly’s to watch you,” Lindy said as she placed several heaping bowls of fragrant jambalaya on the table. Returning to the kitchen for more, she called back over her shoulder, “Clint’s been looking for an excuse to buy one of those gigantic flat-screen TVs for his house and now he’s got one. Even if you come in last place tomorrow night, you should be satisfied by the fact that you’ve made at least one member of your town mighty happy.”
As soon as Lindy set a bowl in front of James he turned the hot rice over with his fork to allow some of the steam to escape. The spicy grains, coupled with delectable pieces of shrimp and sausage, had his mouth watering, and he was almost hungry enough to shovel a scorching spoonful into his mouth. Yet despite his eagerness to satisfy his appetite, James politely refused a piece of Lucy’s cornbread.
“It looks really good,” he quickly placated her before she could assume that he didn’t enjoy her cooking. “But I’m trying to maintain a better balance these days.”
“Balance is the key to happiness,” Gillian chirped. “But I’ll be glad to take James’s piece and unbalance my own meal. Bennett, would you like extra sausage? Lindy was kind enough to serve me a meatless bowl of this savory fare.”
“Speaking of balance.” Lindy put her spoon down on a red paper napkin. “How in the world are you juggling your job, all this studying, and a relationship with Jade Jones?”
Bennett seemed to spend an inordinately long time chewing a mouthful of cornbread. He then took a deep swig of Bud Light and loaded his spoon with jambalaya. “I don’t think Jade was havin’ much fun sharing her time with my Jeopardy! prep. She told me back in December that she wasn’t gonna be driving up here anymore unless I proved to her that I wanted something serious, and I guess I didn’t. It was all friendly though. No yelling or throwing dishes.” He popped his spoon in his mouth.
“So you’re not upset?” Lucy asked.
Shaking his head, Bennett reached for another piece of cornbread. James watched him carefully, but his friend truly appeared to be undisturbed by the declaration that he was single once again. Glancing around the table, he noticed that Lindy had now turned her curious gaze upon Gillian.
“As a group our dating track record isn’t too great these days. What about you and Detective Harding, Gillian? Did you spend Christmas together?”
“No.” Gillian pushed her bowl away. “We’re sharing a friendship, Lindy, not a romance. We like to talk about tea and yoga and spiritual matters. Detective Harding is very self-reflective, and I enjoy his company.” She toyed with an orange curl, looking uncomfortable. “Nothing magnetic was ever awakened in my heart when we were together, however, and he accepts that.”
“Just friends then?” James inquired, putting a wry emphasis on the phrase as he darted an accusatory glance at Lucy.
“Friends can fill a lot of voids,” Gillian replied solemnly. “But not all.”
An awkward silence fell upon the table. James was sorry that he had so effectively tainted the tone of conversation and wished he could take back his last statement, or at least the negative inflection. Searching for a new topic, he asked Lucy, “Any new developments regarding Paulette’s death?”
“The lab results came back today,” she answered. “Do you want me to talk about this, Bennett? Jeopardy! is about to start…”
Bennett waved at the television set. “We’ve got ten minutes. Time enough for your news and dessert. I can’t focus on anything until I sink my teeth into one of the carrot-cake sandwich cookies Milla made.”
Taking the hint, James retrieved a platter of cookies from the kitchen and removed the plastic wrap from the dish. As soon as he exposed the cookies to the air, an aroma of cinnamon and baked oats wafted into the room.
“What have we here?” Gillian asked as she helped herself to a thick cookie. “Are these slivers of carrots?”
“Yes, but don’t be fooled into thinking these treats will taste like health food. There’s an inch of cream cheese frosting between two carrot-cake cookies. Milla claims that they’ll sharpen your senses. She even packed you a tin to take on the train tomorrow.”
Bennett ate his first cookie in three quick, appreciative bites. “God bless that woman!”
With a giggle, Lindy placed a carafe of decaf coffee on the table. “I believe you like Milla’s gift better than the rest of ours put together. Okay, Lucy. Fill us in.”
“For starters, you can give Milla good news when you see her,” Lucy told James. “The ruling that Paulette’s death was accidental still stands. The lab results indicate that she suffered from a fatal dose of salmonella poisoning.”
James was stunned. “As in, the stomach bug you get from undercooked chicken or bad eggs? That killed her?”
Lucy nodded. “It can be fatal, especially to people with weakened immune systems, like folks who are battling cancer or have HIV.”
“Did Paulette have cancer?” Lindy’s eyes were round. “She seemed awfully healthy to me.”
Looking grave, Lucy said, “She had cervical cancer. I looked up facts about the disease on the Internet, and in a lot of cases, women don’t know they have cervical cancer until it’s pretty advanced. Unless they get regular checkups, that is, but with Paulette’s schedule, who knows if she saw a gynecologist annually.”
“Understandable. It’s not like anyone enjoys having a pap smear,” Lindy muttered.
Bennett covered his ears with his hands. “Woman! This is not the beauty parlor!”
“Then I won’t mention that the signs of cervical cancer are vaginal bleeding, discharge, and pain during and/or after intercourse either.” Lucy was clearly amused by Bennett’s discomfort.