The Girl with the Kitten Tattoo

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The Girl with the Kitten Tattoo Page 6

by Linda Reilly


  Lara shook her head. “I’ve never bought or sold property, so…no.”

  “Anyway, he’s always been so protective of his daughter. It’s well known that he disliked Karen’s husband intensely. I’m surprised the police haven’t homed in on him.”

  “Maybe, like you said, they figured out that Mr. Chancer simply had a heart attack.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Felicia said. “For everyone’s sake.” She deftly switched topics. “Are you familiar with fruit bits?”

  “No, not at all. What are they?”

  With a sly smile, Felicia crooked her finger, indicating that they should follow her. She went over to another section and lifted a small glass jar off the shelf. “This one, for example, has peach bits. They’re made from fruit puree, and they hold their shape during baking. They’re ideal for muffins, scones, and the like.” She waved a hand over the shelf. “As you can see, they come in several flavors. One for every palate.” She winked at Lara. “These are also made by Karen,” she added. “She is such a talented young woman.”

  “I can see that.” Lara smiled. “And you—you’re a great salesperson, you know that?”

  Felicia shrugged. “It’s what I do,” she said. “My living depends on it.” A shadow crossed her face, a sudden display of emotion. It disappeared as quickly as it came. “I won’t bother you girls anymore. Spend as much time here as you like. I’m not one of those people who gets antsy if customers browse for too long.”

  “Thank you.” Lara glanced at her watch. It was already three thirty, and they hadn’t even gone to the bridal shop yet. Time to get a move on.

  “We’d better get going,” Lara said quietly to Kayla, who’d just stuck a bag of something colorful into her basket.

  They went up to the checkout counter, and Lara’s eyes popped open in surprise. Felicia was holding a tiny white dog in her arms. The pup appeared to be a poodle mix of some sort. “Oh my, where did he come from?”

  “She,” Felicia said proudly. “This is my Lily, my darling Lily.” Her eyes moistened. “She’s fourteen and still going strong, although she does have health issues.”

  “Aww,” Kayla said.

  “Is it okay if we pet her?” Lara asked.

  “Oh, she’ll love you forever if you do that.”

  Lara and Kayla took turns petting the dog, then Felicia gently set her down on the floor. “She has a comfy bed under there. I never come to work without her. She’s getting on in years, and I don’t like leaving her alone.”

  Felicia rang up their purchases and invited them to visit again. Lara paid with her debit card.

  “Take my card,” Felicia said, handing each of them a pink business card. “Some of our vendors do custom orders. You never know when you might need something special. And I do hope you’ll check out the shop’s Facebook page. I confess to being somewhat of a Facebook junkie.” She winked at Lara. “Keeps me out of trouble, and I love connecting with people,” she added with a musical laugh.

  “I’ll definitely check it out,” Lara assured her.

  With a final wave at Felicia, they left the shop. The bell above the door jingled as they exited.

  “That was interesting,” Kayla said as they hurried toward the car. “One more suspect to add to your list.”

  Lara paused on the sidewalk and gawked at her. “What do you mean—to add to my list? And who’s the so-called suspect?”

  They hopped inside the car, and Lara started the engine. “Come on, Lara. Aren’t you keeping track of people who might have killed Chancer?” Kayla pulled over her seat belt.

  Lara looked away. Was she? Was this another one of her quests to find a killer?

  “No,” Lara said crisply. “I’m not keeping track, and I’m not making a list. Again, who’s the so-called suspect?”

  Kayla looked at Lara, her eyes glittering. “Gary Becker. Karen’s Chancer’s father.”

  Lara squirmed in her seat and snapped her seat belt into place. The problem was that Kayla knew her all too well. “We have no reason to believe that Karen’s dad killed Chancer. Come on, let’s visit the bridal shop before it closes. I’d like to make it home before it gets too dark.”

  Chapter 10

  On the way to the bridal salon, Lara spotted a large black car in her rearview mirror. Was it following a bit too close, or was that just her imagination? A lot of drivers tailgated, especially in local traffic. But this driver looked familiar, and not in a good way. It was the profile she recognized more than anything, but his sunglasses made it impossible to make out any of his features.

  It was going to drive her crazy until she figured out who it was.

  When she turned into the parking lot behind the salon, the mystery car didn’t follow.

  Thank heaven.

  Valeria’s Bridal Salon was the kind of shop that made Lara feel as if she had to speak in a whisper.

  Beyond the marble entryway, three shallow steps led to a sea of plush, dark red carpeting. A crystal chandelier hung in the center of the shop, its conical design giving it the look of an elegant beehive. A polished wooden table in the center of the room boasted a huge Oriental vase bearing an arrangement of gorgeous white lilies. Adjacent to the table, on either side, were two pink-toned love seats. They sat at an angle, presumably to give the area the feel of a cozy parlor.

  Along both sides of the shop, wedding gowns hung on long wooden racks. Lara glanced at Kayla, whose eyes were the size of dinner plates.

  “Look at these dresses,” Kayla said, bouncing her gaze all around. “Oh man, I sure hope I’ll be shopping here someday.”

  Lara smiled. “Don’t worry, you will be. Just don’t be in a hurry, okay?”

  Kayla made a face.

  A young woman emerged from the back of the shop, her radiant smile displaying a set of snowy-white teeth. She’d appeared so suddenly that Lara wondered if she’d been observing her and Kayla from some hidden vantage point.

  “Good afternoon. I’m Tina,” the young woman said, her straight black hair brushing the tops of her slender shoulders. She wore a plain white blouse over a black pencil skirt. She couldn’t have been more than a size two.

  She must be Tina Tanaka, Lara thought.

  Careful to give out only her first name, Lara introduced herself. Kayla followed suit.

  “Welcome to Valeria’s,” Tina continued, with a surreptitious glance at her watch. “So, which one of you is the lucky bride?”

  “I’m the lucky maid of honor,” Lara said. “The wedding’s in less than three weeks. I have a teal dress, but I haven’t found any shoes I like yet. Do you carry shoes?”

  “We do, but only a limited number. It’s not that we don’t want to carry them, but space is at a premium here. But—we can order anything you like if we don’t have it in stock. Do you have a picture of the dress?”

  Fortunately, Lara did. She pulled out her cell and went to her photos. “This is me wearing it.”

  Tina stared at the photo, which showed Lara in her stocking feet modeling the dress. “That’s quite beautiful,” she said, beaming at Lara. “I can see how it complements your red hair, and I love the lacy shoulder. With that length dress, I’d suggest a high heel in a soft shade of ivory.”

  “That’s exactly what I was thinking, but maybe a lower heel. Is ivory okay for a February wedding?”

  “It most certainly is,” Tina assured her. “What size are you?”

  “A seven narrow usually fits me to a T.”

  Tina held up a finger. “Give me a few moments. We don’t have a lot in narrow sizes, but again, if there’s something you like that’s not your size, we can always order them for you.”

  Tina scurried out through a rear door, returning a few minutes later with a stack of boxes. She directed Lara over to a chair near the rear of the shop. Kayla watched eagerly as Lara tried on numerous pairs.

&nb
sp; The first three pairs Lara tried on were not what she was looking for. The heels were either way too high or the shoes were adorned with too many doodads. The last pair made Lara’s breath catch in her throat.

  The shoes were peep-toe, made from ivory silk. The outer side of each shoe was a creamy sculptured lace that caressed the top of the foot and wrapped around to the back. The inner side of the shoe was plain. Lara was thrilled that the shoes had only a three-inch heel. Definitely better than the stilts she’d tried on earlier.

  “Oh, I love these,” Lara groaned, walking in a small circle. “Unfortunately, they’re too wide. I can feel them slipping off.”

  “I was afraid of that. We have very few narrow sizes.” Tina smiled at her. “I’d be pleased to order them in your size, if you’d like. Shipping only takes a few days if I put a rush on it.” She quoted the price.

  Lara swallowed and said, “That’s fine. It’s for my best friend’s wedding, so I’m not going to skimp.”

  Kayla clapped. “I’m so glad you picked those, Lara. They’re going to look fabulous on you.”

  Tina wrote up the order and accepted Lara’s credit card. “I’ll only be a moment,” she said, leaving the room.

  Uh-oh. Using her credit card meant that Tina would see her full name. Unfortunately, it couldn’t be helped. Lara never carried much cash with her. And she desperately wanted those shoes.

  Not that Lara was famous, but she’d been in the news a few times for having stumbled into the path of killers. Hopefully, her name wouldn’t ring a bell with Tina.

  “I’m psyched that you found those shoes,” Kayla said. “Are you going to ask about you-know-who?”

  Lara bit her lip. “I’m not sure. Only if I can think of a way to do it tactfully.”

  Tina seemed to be taking a while ringing up Lara’s order. She finally returned holding a slip of paper and a pen. Her former smile had faded to a flat line. “Sign here and I’ll put the order right through,” she said. “I’ll need your phone number so I can call you when the shoes are in.” She returned the credit card to Lara. “By the way, your name looked familiar to me, so I just Googled you. This is about Wayne Chancer, isn’t it? Did you come here to spy on me?”

  Uh-oh. Nailed.

  Should she tell the truth or make up a fib? Lara juggled her choices. She decided to try an end run and avoid the question altogether.

  “Actually, it was a friend who told me about this salon. I think you know her. Megan Haskell?”

  Tina’s jaw went taut. “And you just happened to run into her, and you just happened to need a pair of shoes for your friend’s wedding.”

  “Sort of. I definitely needed the shoes. My friend Sherry is getting married on Valentine’s Day, which is coming up fast.”

  “Valentine’s Day. So cliché.” Tina rolled her eyes.

  Lara bristled. The cordial persona Tina had displayed earlier seemed to have fallen off the edge of the earth. “It was the date my friend chose. Personally, I think it’s quite romantic.”

  “Whatever.” Tina shoved the shoes Lara had tried on into their proper boxes and made a stack. “I need to put these away. The store closes in fifteen minutes. Valeria will call you when your shoes are ready to pick up.”

  “Tina, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Lara rose from her chair, hoping she could smooth things over. “It’s only that Megan is very worried. The police questioned her, and she’s terrified they think she’s somehow involved in his death.”

  “Which is dumb, because they don’t even know how Chancer died,” Tina sniped. “I’ll tell you this. There’s no way Megan was involved. The girl can talk, ad nauseum, but she doesn’t bite. I suppose she told you about him stalking me.”

  Tina said it with such vehemence that Lara was taken aback. “I—um…”

  “Let me tell you one last thing. If you thought you were going to trick me into confessing that I killed Chancer, then you sorely underestimated me.”

  Lara felt chastised, and embarrassed. “I’m sorry if I offended you, Tina. It wasn’t my intention.”

  Stone-faced, Tina stared at Lara, the boxes balanced in her arms.

  Lara was going to add that she really did come to the store to look for shoes, but decided it might be overkill. At this stage, nothing was going to erase the fury in Tina’s expression. She quickly left the store, Kayla on her heels.

  “Shoot,” Kayla said. “That could’ve gone better.”

  They scurried toward the parking lot and hopped into the Saturn. The sky had darkened. Traffic had picked up considerably, presumably from people leaving work. Lara stuck the key in the ignition.

  “Lara, your hand is shaking,” Kayla said. “Are you all right?”

  Nodding, Lara forced back tears. She had to see to drive. “Tina was right. I did go there to spy on her. What right did I have? I’m just…so mad at myself. I’m an idiot.”

  Kayla reached over and squeezed Lara’s shoulder. “You’re not an idiot, so stop beating yourself up.”

  Lara started the car and backed out of the parking space. Traffic on the main road had picked up, for which she was grateful. It kept her focused on something other than the mess she’d made of things with Tina Tanaka.

  It was ridiculous to think that she could help Megan. It was the job of the police to figure out how Chancer died, not hers. She’d helped in the past, yes—but that was by sheer happenstance.

  The hard truth was that she’d been blinded by her faith in Blue, who’d cozied up to Megan as if they were best buds. Maybe Blue had only been trying to comfort Megan. Maybe she wasn’t trying to signal that Lara needed to help her.

  God, what a fiasco.

  They made it back to Whisker Jog a little after dark. Kayla left right away, since she knew her grandmother would be worried about her.

  Aunt Fran knew immediately that something was wrong, but she didn’t ask any questions. They put together a light supper of tomato soup and grilled cheddar sandwiches—a meal Lara normally devoured. When she shoved aside almost half her sandwich, Aunt Fran spoke up.

  “Lara, it’s obvious something is very wrong. Is it anything I can help with?”

  Lara shook her head. “Probably not. But I’ll tell you about it anyway.”

  She launched into her story of their trip to Bakewell. Aunt Fran listened without commenting, only nodding her head here and there.

  “Why don’t you give yourself a break?” Aunt Fran said, after Lara was through. “You’re being way too hard on yourself, in my opinion.”

  Lara rose from her chair and kissed her aunt on the cheek. “Thanks for always being here for me, Aunt Fran. I can’t imagine what I’d do without you.”

  Chapter 11

  That evening, Lara was restless. She couldn’t keep her mind on any one thing. Her attempt to work on Amy Glindell’s watercolor project sank like a rock to the bottom of her heart.

  She hadn’t heard from Gideon since early that morning. Normally he texted throughout the day, even if it was just a “Hello! Love you!” Today he’d been oddly silent, almost as if he knew what she’d been up to. But how could he?

  She’d already decided that she would tell him everything. If their relationship wasn’t completely open and honest, it didn’t have a chance of lasting.

  Aunt Fran had made her feel a little better. She’d pointed out that Lara had only been trying to help, not to harm anyone. But the look on Tina Tanaka’s face when they left the bridal salon wouldn’t leave Lara’s head. She felt sure she’d ruined the young woman’s day. She wished she could hop into a time machine and take back the entire mess.

  Realizing she wasn’t going to accomplish much this evening, she remembered that she wanted to check out Felicia Tristany’s Facebook page. On her tablet, she Googled the name of the gourmet food shop, and the page popped up instantly.

  Lara couldn’t help smiling. The
profile photo for the shop wasn’t a pic of the shop itself—it was a close-up of Felicia’s treasured dog, Lily. Lily’s collar, made from pale green fabric, was adorned with images of ripe peaches. The banner along the top was a snapshot of one of the rows of goodies inside the shop. Karen’s Fruit Spreads were prominent in the photo. Lara wondered if Felicia had recently changed the banner to honor her friend in her time of sorrow.

  Lara gave the page a “like” and then scrolled down, perusing the posts. Accolades from customers were abundant on the page. Nearly all the reviews of the shop’s products were positive, if not glowing. Especially popular were Karen Chancer’s fruit bits, along with the specialty teas created by Felicia herself. Felicia apparently offered her patrons “custom-made” teas for special occasions, such as a coconut-pineapple blend for a Hawaiian-style tea party, or a pumpkin spice–flavored tea for an autumn occasion.

  Impressed with Felicia’s business chops as well as her creativity, Lara wondered if she had a personal page. A quick Facebook search pulled up nothing, so Lara decided to Google her. Only one name came up—a Felicia Tristany from Canfield, Ohio, who’d died four years earlier.

  Lara sighed and powered off her tablet. After ensuring that all the cats were set for the night with fresh water and clean litter, she wished her aunt a good night and crawled into bed with three cats—Munster, Sienna, and Panda—and a book.

  Ha. Wouldn’t that make a great movie title? Three Cats and a Book.

  Panda had nestled up close to her, his long white whiskers brushing her neck as he purred like a smooth-running motor. Lara read until her eyes started to droop, then set aside her book and shut off the light. She was just drifting off when her cell rang, jolting her wide awake. Gideon’s smiling face appeared on her screen.

  “Hi, stranger,” she said, her voice coming out a little shaky.

  After a moment of silence, Gideon said, “Stranger, indeed. Lara, were you in Bakewell today?”

  Lara’s heart jumped in her chest. “Good evening to you, too,” she said curtly. “Yes, I was in Bakewell. How did you know?”

 

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