“Sugar lamb,” Connie Sue crooned, “some of us have earned the right to sleep ’til noon if that’s what our little hearts desire.”

“Chalk it up as another perk of retirement,” Gloria said agreeably, topping off her wine. “Right up there alongside of Medicare and Social Security.”

“Six Saturdays followed by a Sunday,” Janine quipped.

Rita patted Tara’s back. “Retirement is a reward, honey, not a punishment.”

Polly hooked her arm through Krystal’s. “Kate said you’ve never played bunco, dear. Let me show you the ropes.” I didn’t miss the wink she sent my way.

Smiling, I followed Polly’s shining example. “Come into my parlor,” said the spider to the fly. “C’mon, Nadine. You can be my partner at the head table.”

Connie Sue and Diane joined us. I could tell from the gleam in her eye that Connie Sue was committed to the Free Claudia Campaign. And I knew Diane would uphold her end as well. Nadine was toast.

I rang the bell. “Let the games begin.”

I didn’t have to wait long before Connie Sue made the first move.

“So, Nadine,” Connie Sue, former Miss Peach Princess, purred so sweetly that visions of magnolias danced in my head. “Tell us a little about yourself. I’m just dyin’ to know more about you.”

“Ain’t much to tell.”

Connie Sue wasn’t easily put off. “I don’t believe that for a minute, sugar. Why don’t you start by tellin’ us where you’re from?”

“Tennessee.” Nadine picked up the dice and promptly rolled a trio of sixes-a baby bunco. When she failed to score on her next toss, she slid the dice to Diane.

Tennessee? Um, that was odd. It occurred to me-belatedly-that for someone raised in the South, Nadine didn’t have much of an accent. If I had my little black book next to me, I’d make a note of this. But I suspect that would’ve been too obvious. Discretion was key. Maybe Nadine was the one in need of a background check. If I weren’t so miffed at Steven, I’d ask his advice on various Web sites.

Diane picked up the conversational ball and tried an end run. “You still have family there?”

“Yeah.” Nadine selected a chocolate from the dish-dark chocolate, of course, to forestall another of Monica’s lectures-and peeled the foil. “A daughter.”

“A daughter,” Connie Sue cooed. “How nice. Children are such a blessin’, aren’t they?”

Nadine shrugged. “I guess.”

Our skill at bunco matched our skill at drawing out useful information. Unfortunately, thumbscrews weren’t an option. Diane racked up an impressive two points before passing the dice to me. My luck was nonexistent, so I slid them to Connie Sue, who fared no better.

“You ladies are pathetic,” Nadine said in her raspy smoker’s voice. “Let me show you how it’s done.” Giving the dice a careless toss, she flicked her wrist, and let them tumble. Three ones appeared as if by magic.

“Bunco!” I yelled, banging the bell to signal the end of the round.

Nadine held up the empty beer bottle. “Don’t s’pose you have another?”

“Sure thing,” I said, scrambling to comply. Maybe alcohol would loosen the woman’s tongue since all else failed. I didn’t feel the teensiest twinge of guilt as I brought out another cold one. A quick survey of the fridge showed I had four more waiting in the wings. If need be, I’d duck out for a beer run.

“I need a potty break.” Krystal streaked for the nearest bathroom.

“Good time for a cigarette.” Nadine headed for the door, already digging through her pocket for a lighter and a pack of smokes.

Janine rolled her eyes. Tara groaned. At this rate, it was going to be a long night. “Everyone agree to one set tonight instead of the usual two?” I asked hopefully. I didn’t hear any complaints.

The women returned, Krystal looking less pained and Nadine reeking of cigarette smoke, and we shifted places. Since Nadine and I were winners at the head table, we stayed where we were and Polly and Krystal joined us.

“Ready?” Not waiting for an answer, I clanged the bell-probably more forcefully than necessary.

“Since you’re new at bunco, Krystal, I’ll keep score,” I offered. “The first team to reach twenty-one points rings the bell and calls bunco.”

“Gotcha.”

We took turns shaking and tossing, but the head table, except for Nadine, seemed to be jinxed.

Failing to score-again-Polly shoved the dice in my direction. “Some folks are lucky; some aren’t.”

Krystal heaved a heartfelt sigh. “Wish I could be lucky where men are concerned. I always seem to attract losers.”

“Me, too,” Nadine grunted. “The love-’em-and-leave’em kind.”

“Ditto,” Krystal concurred. “Men are stupid creatures.”

Nadine snorted, a sound that started out as a laugh but ended as a cough.

Men are stupid creatures? Where had that come from? Polly and I exchanged furtive glances. Were we on to something-finally? Was Nadine talking about stupid creatures in general? Or one in particular? If so, by any chance could his name be Lance Ledeaux?

Her turn once again, Nadine scooped up the dice and did her toss-flick-tumble routine. Lo and behold! A trio of twos appeared.

“Bunco! Bunco!” Polly called out, halting play.

“Wow!” I said, truly impressed. “With that kind of luck, you ought to buy a lottery ticket.”

“Been there, done that.”

“Ever win?” Behind her trifocals, Polly’s faded blue eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“Yeah. Won big a couple months back.” Nadine polished off the last of her beer and smothered a burp. “Say, do I have time for a cigarette?”

Between all the cigarette breaks and potty stops, bunco finished later than usual. Diane stifled a yawn as she was leaving. “Sure glad the library opens late tomorrow.”

I waved from the porch as the last of my guests pulled away. Nadine, the tiara perched at a rakish angle on her head, assured me she could make it across the street under her own steam in spite of the six beers she’d consumed. I had to hand it to her. The woman could hold her booze.

Switching off the porch light, I went inside. As I placed the last wineglasses in the dishwasher, I experienced a growing sense of frustration. Instead of the rousing success I’d hoped for, the evening had been a dud. We were still no closer to finding out who wanted Lance Ledeaux dead. All we had learned was that both women subscribed to the men-are-stupid-creatures theory of evolution. And that Nadine Peterson had hit it big in the lottery.

Just where did those tidbits leave us?

Exactly nowhere.

Chapter 28

Call me an optimist, but I dialed Claudia’s number on the off chance she’d pick up. I know, I know, Pam’s hubby had seen her carted off in a squad car. Still, I couldn’t help but hope it had been a case of mistaken identity. Claudia’s phone rang and rang before switching to voice mail. I was worried sick about her. The warning bells inside my head had reached Titanic proportions. Disaster, disaster, disaster! Sinking, sinking!

I was proving to be a menace to myself. After putting a load of unwashed clothes in the dryer and the orange juice in the cupboard, I gave up trying to be productive. My pacing had practically worn a path in the ceramic tile. I fairly fizzed with nervous energy but couldn’t seem to concentrate. It was already ten fifteen and there hadn’t been a single word from BJ. He hadn’t bothered to return my call last night even though I asked him to regardless of the hour. I’d called his office promptly at nine and spoken with Aleatha. She was sweet as pie, but not very helpful. In fact, she was so downright sweet, I didn’t realize how unhelpful she was until after disconnecting. Tricks like that probably make for a great secretary.

I darted another look at the clock. Were the hands even moving? Maybe we’d had a power outage-one of those glitches that last a split second but necessitate resetting every darn clock and appliance in the entire house. Narrowing my eyes, I squinted at the big hand. Darn, I saw it move a smidge.