Read Online Becklaw's Murder Mystery Tour (Jo Anderson Series) by Dane McCaslin - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Dane McCaslin
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in a line much like naughty children trying to explain ourselves to a strict nanny.
Leslie and I began speaking at the same time, our words tumbling over one another in our haste to assure her that nothing else was amiss.
We didn’t convince her.
‘I’ll be the judge of that, girls,’ Miss Lucinda announced. She turned to face her sister-in-law, who instantly cowered closer to me. ‘Beatrice, I hear that you’ve created some foolish mystery tour or some such nonsense. Is that what’s causing the ruckus?’
Miss Bea shot to her feet, no easy thing for her to do. She stood as straight as her stature would allow; even her hair seemed to frizzle to a new height, quivering with righteous indignation.
‘My Murder Mystery Tour,’– I could clearly detect the capitals – ‘is a success, Lucy, and I don’t need interference from the likes of you.’ She crossed her ample arms over her ample bosom, steam practically billowing from her ears.
Her reaction didn’t faze Miss Lucinda in the least. With one last swallow of her crumb-filled tea, she stood to her feet, leaning for a moment on the chair’s arm.
‘I highly suggest that you begin by being honest with me, Beatrice,’ she intoned, heading for the door. ‘I will be in my trailer when you are ready to disclose everything. Jo, your arm, if you would.’
Together we descended the steps and began walking back toward the front of the campground. This time she kept a firm grip on my arm, and I had the feeling it was more to detain me than to assist in walking.
‘Beatrice has always been a trusting soul.’ This declaration, out of the blue, startled me. My mind had been on how to graciously disentangle my arm from hers.
‘I would have to agree with that,’ I answered, once my heart had shifted from my throat and back to its normal spot in my chest. ‘She trusted four complete strangers to come to Colorado and share her home with her.’
In the distance, I spotted Derek and LJ. They were standing near their trailer’s front door, watching me approach with Miss Lucinda’s grasp firmly on my arm. I decided to take the bull by the horns and steered her gently in their direction.
‘Miss Lucinda, there are the other two folks who are part of our troupe. I want you to meet them.’
We approached the boys, Miss Lucinda’s limp a bit more pronounced as we walked uphill. We finally reached their trailer, and I lifted my eyebrows in silent warning against any extemporaneous conversation.
At least, I hoped that they understood my meaning.
‘Miss Lucinda Becklaw,’ – their eyebrows joined mine in the stratosphere – ‘this is Derek Robertson and LJ Smythe, the rest of the Murder Mystery Tour troupe.’
Miss Lucinda inclined her lavender head regally, the front part of her hairdo threatening to slip off her head entirely. What was it with the Becklaw women and their hair?
‘Pleased to meet you, ma’am,’ chorused the boys in unison. They looked at me questioningly. ‘Is Miss Bea ready to take off for the fairground? We’re due to meet up with the bit-parters in forty minutes.’
I slapped my forehead. Dear Lord! I had nearly forgotten the practice, in the excitement of discovering Miss Lucinda Becklaw.
‘I’ll run and get her right now. No, wait. You go and get her and Leslie, Derek. They’re still at our trailer. LJ and I will stay here with Miss Lucinda. Besides, I need to keep my eye on the front office. Miss Bea seems to have left her handbag there, and the McLaughlins aren’t answering the door.’ I looked over at LJ. ‘LJ, you stay here with Miss Lucinda. I’m going to go knock on their door again.’ I took off without giving either boy another option.
I once again pounded on the private entrance and this time I had a response. Mr McLaughlin stood in the open doorway, arms firmly folded and a scowl on his face. This cleared the second he saw who it was that stood there; still afraid of bad publicity, I thought.
‘Mr McLaughlin,
Leslie and I began speaking at the same time, our words tumbling over one another in our haste to assure her that nothing else was amiss.
We didn’t convince her.
‘I’ll be the judge of that, girls,’ Miss Lucinda announced. She turned to face her sister-in-law, who instantly cowered closer to me. ‘Beatrice, I hear that you’ve created some foolish mystery tour or some such nonsense. Is that what’s causing the ruckus?’
Miss Bea shot to her feet, no easy thing for her to do. She stood as straight as her stature would allow; even her hair seemed to frizzle to a new height, quivering with righteous indignation.
‘My Murder Mystery Tour,’– I could clearly detect the capitals – ‘is a success, Lucy, and I don’t need interference from the likes of you.’ She crossed her ample arms over her ample bosom, steam practically billowing from her ears.
Her reaction didn’t faze Miss Lucinda in the least. With one last swallow of her crumb-filled tea, she stood to her feet, leaning for a moment on the chair’s arm.
‘I highly suggest that you begin by being honest with me, Beatrice,’ she intoned, heading for the door. ‘I will be in my trailer when you are ready to disclose everything. Jo, your arm, if you would.’
Together we descended the steps and began walking back toward the front of the campground. This time she kept a firm grip on my arm, and I had the feeling it was more to detain me than to assist in walking.
‘Beatrice has always been a trusting soul.’ This declaration, out of the blue, startled me. My mind had been on how to graciously disentangle my arm from hers.
‘I would have to agree with that,’ I answered, once my heart had shifted from my throat and back to its normal spot in my chest. ‘She trusted four complete strangers to come to Colorado and share her home with her.’
In the distance, I spotted Derek and LJ. They were standing near their trailer’s front door, watching me approach with Miss Lucinda’s grasp firmly on my arm. I decided to take the bull by the horns and steered her gently in their direction.
‘Miss Lucinda, there are the other two folks who are part of our troupe. I want you to meet them.’
We approached the boys, Miss Lucinda’s limp a bit more pronounced as we walked uphill. We finally reached their trailer, and I lifted my eyebrows in silent warning against any extemporaneous conversation.
At least, I hoped that they understood my meaning.
‘Miss Lucinda Becklaw,’ – their eyebrows joined mine in the stratosphere – ‘this is Derek Robertson and LJ Smythe, the rest of the Murder Mystery Tour troupe.’
Miss Lucinda inclined her lavender head regally, the front part of her hairdo threatening to slip off her head entirely. What was it with the Becklaw women and their hair?
‘Pleased to meet you, ma’am,’ chorused the boys in unison. They looked at me questioningly. ‘Is Miss Bea ready to take off for the fairground? We’re due to meet up with the bit-parters in forty minutes.’
I slapped my forehead. Dear Lord! I had nearly forgotten the practice, in the excitement of discovering Miss Lucinda Becklaw.
‘I’ll run and get her right now. No, wait. You go and get her and Leslie, Derek. They’re still at our trailer. LJ and I will stay here with Miss Lucinda. Besides, I need to keep my eye on the front office. Miss Bea seems to have left her handbag there, and the McLaughlins aren’t answering the door.’ I looked over at LJ. ‘LJ, you stay here with Miss Lucinda. I’m going to go knock on their door again.’ I took off without giving either boy another option.
I once again pounded on the private entrance and this time I had a response. Mr McLaughlin stood in the open doorway, arms firmly folded and a scowl on his face. This cleared the second he saw who it was that stood there; still afraid of bad publicity, I thought.
‘Mr McLaughlin,
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