“I didn’t find out anything all that helpful,” Verna said. “I talked to the few pals I made while briefly in school, but nobody remembered rumors about Clay.”
Valerie eyed the donuts with longing. “I had more luck. I talked to a couple of friends who remembered rumors of accusations from a couple of women that Clay and his buddy, Frank Clubberoni, slipped drugs into drinks at more than one party on campus.”
Millie sat up. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Valerie said. “My friend remembered the women being members in the Delta Gamma sorority, maybe, but they couldn’t recall names or dates. I called the school for you, and they failed to find any documentation, which could mean that nobody ever filed a report, or perhaps somebody redacted a report. One of my friends at nursing school remembered some sort of investigation, but she’d only heard rumors.”
That was something at least. Maybe Brigid could get some answers. “I really appreciate it, Valerie,” Millie said.
“No problem. I’m happy to help. Clay really was a cad.”
Millie gingerly chose her next words. “Junie, somebody said that maybe you had gone out with Clay.”
June coughed, then wiped her mouth after spitting out a small amount of her latte. “Hell no.” Her eyes widened. “Millie, you and I have been friends since we were three. I wouldn’t date that loser. I’m not saying he didn’t come into the diner and hit on me, but he hit on anything that walked. I promise.” She reached out and patted Millie’s hand. “I never would’ve dated him.”
Millie studied her friend’s earnest face. June had never lied to her, so there was no reason to believe she would start now.
“Yeah, he hit on me all the time when I was still working at Snarky’s,” Verna said quietly. “I mean, he hit on everybody.” She looked down. “Except Valerie.”
Valerie snorted. “Yeah, we didn’t mix. He called me chubby once, and I wished a curse upon him.”
Verna sobered. “I certainly regret not stopping you from going with him. I’m so sorry, Millie.”
Millie waved her hand in the air. “It’s not your fault, and it’s so nice of you all to bring me breakfast.” How comforting to know that her friends trusted her. “Is the rest of the town buzzing over my guilt?”
“Not really. Nobody who knows you would think that,” June hastened to say. “Everyone is still giving you alibis, I think.”
Verna sighed. “Everybody knows that you really hated the butthead, Millie. Ignore the gossips.”
Millie brushed crumbs off her jeans. “I didn’t hate him. I just didn’t want anything to do with him.” Hate was much too strong a word, but if Clay had drugged her that night, she could go from not caring to dislike real quick. Whether he’d drugged her or not, it didn’t explain who’d killed him.
A knock sounded on the door before Lila walked in with fresh flowers in her hands. She paused when she saw the women at the table. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m not used to anybody being here.” She’d secured her thick hair in a ponytail and wore an old T-shirt with ripped jeans. “I’m so sorry.” She backed away.
“No, it’s okay. Come on in,” Millie said, pulling out another chair at the table. “Sit.” She introduced everybody.
“We’ve met.” Verna nudged the box of donuts toward the woman. “You came into Snarky’s when I still worked there.”
Lila flushed and sat with the blooms in her hands. “Sometimes when Buck needs extra help, I just clean the back room.” She shook her head. “And maybe do a little inventory. I don’t hang out at the bar or anything.”
“You had a drink or two a couple of times,” Verna noted.
Lila eyed the donuts. “What can I say? Buck pays me in cash and a beer once in a while.”
“Have a donut.” Valerie pushed the box even closer. “Seriously, if you don’t, I’ll eat them all.”
Lila placed the flowers gently on the table. “I brought these for Mae. She loves wild roses.”
“It’s nice of you to help out around here,” Valerie said.
Lila’s eyes were veiled. “Mae has been very kind to me. I love the cabin and hopefully I’ll learn how to fish soon. Although I don’t think I ever want to guide.” She reached for a chocolate glazed donut and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. “These are fresh.”
“I love the fresh donuts from the diner. They are the best,” Millie agreed. “How often do you help Buck out?”
Lila swallowed. “Whenever he needs it. Maybe once a week, sometimes twice.”
“You weren’t there the other night when I was, by any chance, were you?” Millie asked, hope unfurling inside her. It’d be nice to get an answer—any answer to what had happened at the bar.
“I haven’t worked for Buck in at least a week,” Lila said, picking off another piece of the donut and eating it as if savoring every morsel. “He hasn’t been as busy lately. I kind of expected him to call after St. Patrick’s Day, but sometimes he likes to clean the place himself.”
