And The Winner--Weds!

“Me, too.” Rafe studied the older woman, his dark eyes thoughtful. “Give me a call if you remember anything you think might help us, all right?”

“I will.”

“I’ll see our visitors out, Aunt Celeste,” Frannie said. “You go on upstairs.”

“All right. Goodbye.” Celeste shuffled from the room, looking old and wan.

Rafe gazed after her for a long moment, then turned to Frannie. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“You’re more than welcome.” Frannie smiled at Gretchen. “It was nice meeting you, Gretchen.”

“Nice meeting you, too.”

“Good luck with your investigation.”

“Thanks. With a thirty-year-old murder case, we’re likely to need it.” Gretchen tucked her pen and notebook into her tote bag, then looked at Frannie. “Has your aunt ever told you anything about that night?”

Frannie shook her head. “She never talks about Jeremiah.”

“Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

Frannie lifted her shoulders. “Celeste is very superstitious. She used to live in Baton Rouge, and she picked up a lot of Cajun beliefs about spirits and such. She’s probably afraid Jeremiah will hear her talking about him. My mom said all of them were afraid of Jeremiah. He evidently had quite a temper.”

“Hmm,” Gretchen murmured. “Well, I’m sorry if we upset your aunt.”

Rafe followed the detective out the front door, then paused on the porch. He turned to Frannie. “Have a good day. And thanks for your time.”

“Any time.”

The sheriff paused, his hand on the door. “We’ll probably need to come back and question Celeste again.”

“I understand.”

Frannie leaned against the door as soon as she closed it behind the sheriff. Aunt Celeste was one of the kindest, warmest, most helpful women she’d ever known. She was a natural-born nurturer, and she’d always been open and straightforward.

Her reluctance to talk about Jeremiah and her inability to recall the events surrounding Raven’s death struck Frannie as highly unusual. The sheriff and his new investigator seemed to think so, too. There was more to the story than Celeste was telling, and Frannie couldn’t help but wonder what it was.

Three

Frannie looked up from a stack of loan applications late the next morning to see a familiar figure in a white physician’s coat approach her desk at the Whitehorn Savings and Loan. “Summer! What brings you here?”

“You do.” Summer sat in the armchair across from the desk and grinned at her cousin. “Jasmine tells me you’ve agreed to let us give you a makeover.”

Frannie shifted uneasily in her desk chair. She’d told Jasmine yesterday that she’d go along with Summer’s plan, but now she was having second thoughts. “Well, I’ve been thinking about that, and—”

“Oh, no,” Summer broke in, lifting her hands in a stop gesture. “We’re not going to let you back out now. I’ve already told Kyle that his date with you is confirmed.”

“Confirmed!” Frannie’s eyebrows flew up. “What do you mean, confirmed?”

Summer’s mouth curved into a small smile. “Gavin and I ran into Kyle at the country club Saturday night, and I asked if he’d be interested in having me fix him up with you for the dance. He seemed quite eager.”

Probably because he thinks I look like you. Frannie eyed her cousin suspiciously. “Saturday night? But how did you know I’d agree?”

Summer didn’t even pretend to look apologetic. “I didn’t.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a newspaper clipping. “Anyway, here’s your first assignment.”

“Assignment?”

Summer nodded. “Jasmine and I are going to give you assignments, and you’re going to follow them exactly.”

Oh, dear, what had she let herself in for? Summer’s take-charge attitude and sense of initiative had served her well—it had helped her work her way through medical school, and she’d used it to see her husband through a difficult episode when he’d been falsely accused of a crime—but sometimes Summer could make Frannie feel as if she’d been hit by a steam roller. She eyed her cousin warily. “What kind of assignments?”

Summer handed Frannie the clipping. Frannie glanced down at it, then looked up quizzically. “This is an ad for Kiss of Dew makeup and skin care products.”

Summer nodded. “A representative is giving free facials and makeup lessons at Kaylor’s Drug Store today. I want you to go on your lunch hour.”

Summer read the clipping more closely. “It says you have to call and schedule an appointment.”

“I’ve already done it for you. I know you take a late lunch, so your appointment is set for one.”

“Summer, I usually eat lunch on my lunch hour.”

“As a physician, I’m fully aware of your nutritional needs.” Summer took out a packaged sandwich from her purse. “That’s why I brought you this from the hospital vending machine.”

Frannie sighed as Summer set the sandwich on her desk. “You’re a real piece of work, Summer. You know that, don’t you?”

Summer flashed a blinding smile. “So I hear.” She glanced at her watch and rose from the chair. “I have to get to the clinic. I’ll stop by the Big Sky on my way home this evening to see how your makeup looks.” She hoisted her large purse on her shoulder and raised a hand as she walked away. “Ta-ta!”

Frannie watched her go, a sinking feeling in her stomach. Why had she ever agreed to this silly plan? She’d be better off taking an assertiveness training class—or lessons in basket weaving or tea cozy knitting or trapeze flying. Then, at least, she’d stand a ghost of a chance of succeeding.

“We need the smoothest skin possible under our foundation, so we’re going to start with this lovely kiwi avocado skin mask.”

The Kiss of Dew cosmetics representative evidently spoke of everything in terms of “we.” She’d already told Frannie that “we” had beautiful skin. All the same, she’d spent the past five minutes preparing it for a beautifying skin treatment.

Frannie winced as the stocky middle-aged woman poured a mound of green slime into her palm and picked up a cotton ball. “Is this really necessary?”

The heavily made-up lady nodded, jiggling her well-powdered multiple chins. “Oh, yes. Absolutely. Why, it’s part of our Essential Exfolliants and Emollients Kiss Kollection.”

Frannie glanced at the bottle and wondered if it was merely a coincidence that the initials spelled out EEEKK. That was certainly her reaction to the prospect of having the green goo slathered all over her face.

Especially in such a public setting, Frannie thought morosely. Right in the drugstore window.

Oh, well. Frannie had already endured having her face cleaned and swabbed with two different potions while passersby stopped and gawked. Wearing the green goop couldn’t be too much more humiliating. Folding her arm under the black cosmetics cape, she closed her eyes and resigned herself to the inevitable.

The woman began dabbing the cold, gooey substance on her face. “There. Doesn’t that feel refreshing?”

It felt like having a mixture of gelatin and undiluted pea soup globbed on her skin. Frannie pulled her lips into an expression simulating a smile and tried not to cringe as the woman smeared the thick paste across her forehead, over her nose, on her cheeks and down her chin.

“There! We’re all done.” The woman held a mirror up to Frannie’s face.