Page 73 of Lula Dean's Little Library of Banned Book
“Oh my!” Betsy Wright, who was sitting close enough to overhear, sounded scandalized.
“Mushrooms.” Lindsay’s cheeks had regained some of their color, but she still wasn’t quite right. “Can you believe that? The same mushrooms that grow in every cow pasture in Georgia. Schedule one—just like heroin.”
Wilma shook her head. “Absolutely ridiculous. From what I’ve read, mushrooms have zero potential for abuse and plenty of recognized medical uses.” Wilma patted Ronnie’s arm. “Tell me all about it. Start from the beginning, and don’t leave anything out.”
For the next hour, everyone listened in. Over dessert, Wilma announced her conclusion. “Sounds like unlawful search and seizure to me,” she said. “That sheriff is a menace and your public defender must be brain-dead. Come by my house tomorrow morning and we’ll get started on your appeal.”
The whole table had been so riveted by Ronnie’s tale that it wasn’t until after the pie plates had been cleared away that Bella had a chance to bring everyone up to speed on her discoveries. She wanted to get the worst bit out of the way first, so she started with what she’d seen on the video of the rally.
“Unfortunately, there’s no way to prove that Lula knew Logan had a gun,” Lindsay said.
“Maybe in a court of law, but I’ve seen enough to be sure.” James Wright looked like he might explode. “I gave that woman weeks of my spare time, and she couldn’t tell me that my sons were in danger?”
His wife reached over and took his hand. “I’m angry, too. But I don’t think Lula hid that information on purpose,” she said.
Everybody at the table turned their eyes to Betsy.
“I know Lula better than just about anyone,” Betsy said. “That woman can’t see past her own nose. She’s so self-centered that it wouldn’t have occurred to her that our boys were at risk. She would have been too busy thinking about her rally being ruined.”
“My wife worked with Lula for fifteen years,” James explained. “I should have listened when she told me to keep my distance.”
“That’s right!” Beverly exclaimed. “I forgot Lula used to work at Fairview Florist!”
“So what do you suppose we should do, Mrs. Wright?” Bella asked. “What’s the best way to get Lula to drop the charges against Lindsay?”
“Easy,” Betsy said with complete confidence. “You want to put an end to Lula’s nonsense, you need to find her children.”
“That might not be as easy as it sounds,” Lindsay said. “I was friendly with Taylor and Talia in school. As far as I know, they haven’t been in touch with anyone here since they left.”
“I built all the sets for their shows at school.” Ronnie spoke up. “I bet I know who can find them. Want me to send a note to Mr. Minter?”
Chapter 30
Fifty Shades of Grey
Since Lindsay Underwood’s name had appeared at the top of the sheriff’s office list of arrests, the people of Troy had been eagerly speculating about what might happen the following Sunday. Would Beverly and Lula both attend services at First Baptist Church? If so, would their showdown take place before the sermon, after the sermon, or (as some clearly hoped)duringthe sermon? If it came to blows (an unlikely outcome but one that could not be dismissed entirely), who would prevail, Lula or Beverly? And—most important—whose side would Jesus take?
When the day finally arrived, the church pews were packed. Beverly Underwood and her family sat in the third row on the right, as always. Some folks started to wonder if Beverly had even been privy to any of the talk around town. Not only was her gorgeous dress not suited for brawling, she didn’t appear nervous at all, despite the fact that Lula had two inches and at least thirty pounds on her.
“Bet she’s got rocks in her pocketbook,” fifteen-year-old Billy Larkin said, pantomiming Lula receiving a wallop upside the head.
“Beverly’s tougher than she looks,” his mother responded. “If her high kick is half as good as it was back in high school, she won’t need to cheat.”
Most folks agreed that Lindsay did not seem like the kind of girl who’d steal books for no reason. “I heard she’s covering for Ronnie Childers,” said Alvin Jones. “By the way—we know for sure she’s a lesbian?”
“You’re gross,” said his sister, who did, indeed, know for certain.
Then Lula arrived, silencing the whispers. All but three sets of eyes followed her from the doors to a spot on the left side of row six, just off the aisle. She wore her orange hair twisted into a tight chignon. Her dress was a flowy layer of peach chiffon over coral silk. Her open-toe shoes were a tasteful nude with kitten heels.
“Smart to wear a tear-away layer,” noted ten-year-old Wayne Hodgins, who’d been watching the WWE all morning. “But she better kick off those shoes or she’s gonna get whupped.”
The preacher stepped up to the pulpit and surveyed his flock. He may have been a man of God, but he wasn’t hard of hearing. He’d heard the talk in town, and as always, he’d prepared a sermon custom-tailored to his parishioners’ spiritual needs. The morning’s theme was “Love Thy Neighbor.” It was one of the finest sermons he’d ever delivered, but the preacher wasn’t sure anyone heard a word. He felt like a commercial break in the middle of the most riveting drama ever aired on television. Everyone seemed to be counting the minutes until it was over.
When the worship service concluded, Lula filed out with the rest of the congregation. Beverly exited the church a minute later to find Lula Dean waiting for her on the stairs—along with everyone else. Beverly paid them no mind as she headed down to the street. Waiting below on the sidewalk were two impeccably dressed figures, one short, blond, and rosy-cheeked, the other much taller and veiled. The smaller of the two held a stack of books.
“Must be nice not to care what folks think.”
Beverly stopped and turned to face Lula. “I’m sorry. Do you have something you’d like to say to me?”
