key home, turned it and instantly flipped up the volume on her radio. An oldie but goodie came pouring out of the speakers and as Lily put the car in reverse, she started singing along.
She turned left out of the lot and headed toward downtown. In no rush to hurry home, she decided the heat of the day called for a reprieve. Driving to South Junction Burgers, she kept singing as she imagined getting her hands on one of the burger joint’s famous milkshakes.
The air-conditioning hit her like a slap, and Lily almost reeled with the impact. The diner felt like heaven. Only a handful of customers were inside, and Lily smiled at them as she headed back to her favorite…and luckily empty booth.
She slid onto the worn Naugahyde and didn’t even bother picking up one of the menus tucked between the sugar and the salt and pepper shakers. What would be the point? South Junction wasn’t fine cuisine. People came here for one reason.
“Hey, Ms. Cunningham.”
Lily smiled up at her waitress. “Hi, Vickie.”
Vickie Hastings had a mountain of blond hair, pulled up on top of her head and then lacquered into complete submission. Her blue eyes were lined heavily with black eyeliner, and her mascara had been layered on so thickly, she looked as if two caterpillars were taking naps on her eyelids. She snapped her gum and wore her short uniform dress way too tight, across breasts she seemed inordinately proud of, but she had a nice smile and was always friendly.
“The usual?” Vickie asked, pulling her pad and pen from her apron pocket.
Lily laughed. Good God. She was a regular at a diner. Her mother would be hysterical. And that cheered Lily a little. “You bet. Only tonight, make the milkshake strawberry for a change.”
Vickie chuckled. “I don’t know. Living dangerously. If you don’t have a chocolate shake on Thursday nights, the world might stop spinning.”
“Let’s risk it.”
“You got it.” Vickie filled out the order pad, but didn’t move away.
“Is something wrong?”
“Well.” The waitress threw a glance over her shoulder at the long counter behind her and the open pass-through to the kitchen where her boss was cooking. When she was assured no one was paying attention to her, she turned back to Lily and said, “Now that you mention it…”
The air-conditioning had done its job. Lily felt refreshed enough to handle whatever it was that had Vickie worrying her bottom lip. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m uh—” she leaned in a little closer and lowered her voice “—pregnant.”
Lily blinked. This kind of news wasn’t usually delivered with all the stealth of a CIA man making a hand-off to his partner. “Congratulations?” she asked, unsure if Vickie was wanting to celebrate or commiserate.
“Thanks.” A brief smile curved Vickie’s mouth and then disappeared again a moment later. “Billy’n me’re real happy about it. But the thing is,” she leaned in even closer, and soon, Lily thought, the two of them would be nose to nose. “I was wondering. You work at the clinic.”
“Yes…” A flicker of irritation started at the base of Lily’s spine, and she told herself to fight it. She didn’t know what Vickie was going to say so there was no point in getting angry or defensive.
Yet.
“I wanted to ask you if going in there is really safe.”
There it was.
That tiny flicker of irritation became a flame and quickly jumped to an inferno as it climbed her spine, jittered her nerves and settled, unfortunately for Vickie, in Lily’s mouth.
“For heaven’s sake, Vickie!” Lily leaned back, but kept her gaze locked eyeball to eyeball with the younger woman. “You’ve known Mari Bingham all your life. And you can ask me something like that?”
Vickie’s expression tightened, and a flash of what might have been shame darted across her eyes, but it was gone again in an instant, so it was hard to be sure. “I’m just askin’,” she said, defending her right to badmouth an old friend. “There’s been talk.”
“There certainly has,” Lily snapped, then belatedly remembered to keep her voice down. She shot a quick look around the diner, then focused her gaze on Vickie again. “And its being spread by people too foolish or too ignorant to know any better.”
“Now, Ms. Cunningham…” Insulted, she straightened up.
“Oh no, you don’t,” Lily said, grabbing Vickie’s hand as the woman started backing off. “You asked me a question and you’re not leaving until you’ve had your answer.”
But Vickie was obviously regretting saying anything. Her gaze darted around the room, and even Lily could see that Danny, the cook and owner, was watching them from the kitchen. It didn’t stop her.
“Now, you listen to me, Vickie.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Mari Bingham is the most dedicated, caring, loving person I’ve ever known. She works harder than anyone I’ve ever seen and she’s devoted herself to making sure you and every other woman in Merlyn County get the kind of care you deserve.”
“Yes.” Anxious now, Vickie was willing to agree to anything as she tried to pull her hand free of Lily’s grasp. She didn’t succeed.
“Any problems that are going on have nothing to do with Mari or her clinic and you should be ashamed of yourself for even thinking that they do.”
“Ms. Cunningham…”
But Lily’s temper was up and there was just no stopping her. Her voice dropped a notch, but none of the fury left it. “Do you really believe for one instant that Mari Bingham is dealing drugs?”
Vickie sucked in a breath, clearly horrified. “Course not, but—”
“No buts. Do you trust Mari? Do you know her?”
“Yes—”
“Then don’t you think you’ve answered your own question, Vickie?”
“I guess so, but still there’s—”
Lily’s eyes narrowed and Vickie shut up fast, keeping whatever she’d been about to say to herself. Just as well, Lily thought. It would do no good to browbeat the populace of Binghamton one at a time. For heaven’s sake, if they didn’t believe in one of their own, how on earth could she, an outsider, convince them? And Lily had no illusions about her status. She could live in Binghamton for the next fifty years and she’d always be considered an outsider.
Taking a deep breath, she blew it out again quickly, then forced a smile she didn’t feel and released her grip on Vickie’s wrist. “I’m sorry,” she said, giving the waitress’s hand a belated pat. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”
“It’s okay,” Vickie admitted. “My Bill, he’s always saying I’m enough to drive a saint right out of Heaven.”
“Well,”
