Biggie and the Devil Diet - By Nancy Bell Page 0,46

Mercy, that must have been quite a night," Mrs. Muckleroy said.

"It was, for a fact," Biggie said. Then she told about Stacie coming in and taking Laura hostage. "Of course, her gun wasn't the one used to kill Rex. That was his own gun."

"Then why send the other one off at all?" Miss Julia asked.

"Just because it was there, I guess," Biggie said. "It was right there in the room next to us the whole time. But Red is very thorough. He doesn't leave anything to chance."

"I'm that way, too," Mrs. Muckleroy said. "Oh, here we are. Where are all the cars? I thought they had a funeral out here."

"Family only," Biggie said. "Park over here by the fence, Rosebud."

The ladies went in the front door while Rosebud and I took the food around back to the kitchen. Josefina, dressed in black, was standing by the stove stirring a pot. When she looked at us, her eyes were red from crying. Then when she saw what we had, I thought she was going to start bawling all over again.

"What is this?"

"The ladies and Butch brought y'all some food," Rosebud said. "Where you want it?"

"Why?" Josefina asked. "Can't I cook for this family?"

"It's a custom," I said. "Whenever a person dies, folks take food. Where do you want it."

"Over there, I guess." She motioned toward a table that stood against the wall.

Rosebud sat down at the kitchen table to talk to Josefina, and I went looking for Biggie. I found her sitting alone with Babe in the dining room. Babe was wiping her eyes with a tissue.

"He was the only living soul who loved me just the way I am," she said. "What am I going to do without him?"

"Where is your mother?" Biggie asked.

"Dead. She and Daddy divorced when I was seven. I went with Mama. She kept me until she couldn't anymore."

"Couldn't? Surely Rex took care of the two of you. Financially, I mean."

"Oh, sure. Mama had breast cancer. We lived in Wisconsin where Mama had a good job with the state. She never married again. She always said, after Rex Barnwell, no other man would do."

"Then why did she divorce him?"

"Oh, she didn't. He divorced her. Of course, I was just a kid at the time. But from what I could piece together later, Daddy was gone a lot and Mama had, you know, men friends…"

"I understand," Biggie said quickly. "So how old were you when your mom got sick?"

"A teenager, about fifteen, I guess. She worked as long as she could, even when the chemotherapy made all her hair fall out. Finally, we had to go and live with her sister in her small house in Madison. That's when Mama sent me to live with my daddy." She pulled a fresh tissue out of the box and blew her nose. "It was just fine at first…."

"Then Laura came along?"

Babe looked at Biggie. "Laura? No, Laura had nothing to do with it. We got along okay until I married Rob. That's when the trouble began."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Suddenly Babe's face hardened. "No, I don't think I do. Why are you asking so many questions anyway? Are you a cop or something?"

Biggie patted her hand. "No, honey, just an old friend of your daddy's."

"Well, I have to find Hamp. He's promised to take me riding. Lord knows, I need to get away from this house. It's giving me the creeps."

With that, Babe got up and hurried out of the room.

"What do you know about that?" Biggie said. "Well, come on. I want to pay my respects to the Widow Barnwell."

I followed Biggie through the great room where the ladies and Butch had Rob cornered and were asking questions a mile a minute. We went down the hall to Laura's room where Biggie rapped on the door.

"Who's there?" It was Laura's voice.

"Honey, it's Biggie Weatherford and J.R. Can we come in?"

The door opened and Laura stood there. She was wearing a long, floaty robe, pale blue. I could see a matching satin nightie under it, and she had on tiny slippers to match. Her brown hair was loose and fell in waves around her face. She looked as pretty as a field of blue-bonnets.

"Come in," she said, real soft. "I'm sorry, I can't talk very well. All the crying has done something to my voice, I think."

"Saltwater," Biggie said. "Best thing in the world. Just gargle a little— warm— every thirty minutes. You'll be good as new."

"Thanks,