by Misty Simon
I looked at the counter full of dishes and pots galore. We’d be here for a while. “I’m pretty sure we can cover all those and still have some dishes left.”
She laughed and flicked some water at me. “You always were curious, and while I get that you don’t want to make a career out of this, if Sherman thinks you can help with his firebug, why not? Just be careful and pass anything to Sherman that you find, instead of hunting down the leads yourself.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that.” I sighed, bumping her out of the way and manning the sink. “Move over. I’ll wash and you can load the dishwasher.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that.” She laughed. “If you didn’t want me to give my honest opinion, you shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, Gina, I’m glad I did. I feel kind of weird looking into something that has nothing to do with me. But Sherman is asking, so I hate to disappoint him.”
“Then don’t. Just be careful. A firebug isn’t going to be much different from a murderer. You’ve faced those before, but none of them were on a spree of doing it for the sheer pleasure of watching people die. Everyone had a secret they either wanted to keep hidden, or one they wanted out in the open. This person might just like to watch fire dance, which means they’ll be far more likely to want to hide their secret instead of accidentally setting fires in a moment of passion and want to hide them.”
“I’ll keep it in mind. Sherman and I are going to come for coffee in the morning tomorrow at the Bean to discuss. Do you mind?”
She loaded three more glasses and snickered. “Absolutely not. I always enjoy having Sherman in. That man can eat, and he likes to leave big tips. Better than Burton anyway.”
Burton. I hadn’t heard from him yet, even though “we” were supposed to be finding Hoagie and, by extension, Ronda’s murderer. Sherman had confirmed they hadn’t found him yet, so I guess I was going to have to call Burton at some point. Or maybe I should just call the tip line and see what happened from there. Decisions, decisions.
“But first, I don’t know how I feel about getting involved with Ronda’s murder.” I swirled some bubbles around in the sink. “She’s family, but I didn’t care for her much. But I love Uncle Hoagie. What if it’s him, though? I don’t know if I could handle that.”
“Pshaw, don’t even start with that. No way would Hoagie have killed that old witch, no matter how irritating and mean she could be. He’s dealt with her for years. Why now?”
“That’s what I said to Max.”
“So you’ve already been talking about it?”
“Yeah, and I guess I’ll talk about it again once I hear from Burton. He said we were going to find Hoagie, but then, he also told me to use the tip line. I’m not sure what to make of that.”
“Do what you want. Burton can’t deny that you’ve helped solve some pretty big cases around here and without your help, he would have been totally lost. However, if you don’t want in, you don’t have to.”
Indecision had me swirling a dishcloth in the sudsy water in the sink. “I don’t know. My curiosity is positively boiling over, but with Max here, I feel like maybe I shouldn’t get involved this time and instead should just let Burton do his job without my help.”
“You’ll figure it out. You always do.”
I wasn’t sure what she meant: if I always figured things out for myself or always figured out the murder, but I let it go for the moment to concentrate on something else that was burning a hole into my brain. “Okay, then, let’s talk about Jeremy and his stupidity.” I rubbed my hands together and then rinsed another plate to hand to Gina.
She sighed again. “I don’t think he’s stupid. I get why he wants us to take our time, but I’m not getting any younger. And for a long time he kept saying we should get married so his reputation remained intact. But then he let it go when I told him it felt like he just wanted respectability, not me. And now that I’m ready, he’s dragging his feet.”
“Oh, that sounds like your mom talking, and I don’t think I’m okay with that.”
She smacked me with the towel she had draped over her shoulder. “Not fair and not accurate. Of course Mama Shirley wants me to get married, and have kids, and do all that stuff, but I want this, too. I just think Jeremy is waiting for something, and I don’t know what it is. I wish I did, because I’d make it happen.”
“I’m told I have a superior nose for sleuthing and a knack for eavesdropping. I also bet I could talk Max into asking him as his best friend. It’s important to know who your resources are and use them to the best of your ability.”
At that she laughed, but she didn’t say no. Game on, then.
“Speaking of Max,” she said, “how do you feel about him working with your dad?”
And now on to the big question I had kind of wanted to avoid until I talked with Max privately. But this was my best friend, and I tried not to deliberately hide anything from her.
I shrugged and told her my plan to talk with him and my thoughts on being an undertaker’s significant other.
“Hey, I’m looking to do the same thing.” She frowned at me.
“My God, it’s like we’re all sick or something.” I shook my head. “My mother too!”
“Not at all, Tallie. It is useful work, and I know you like to do your part. Maybe Max just wants to do his instead of working with numbers all day.”
I hadn’t thought of it that way, so I let it roll around in my head as my mother came into the kitchen to see how we were doing.
“Wow, you girls are making huge progress. Do you mind if I stay out of the kitchen for a little bit longer? Max requested some coffee and snickerdoodles.”
They must be at the negotiating part if Max wanted snickerdoodles. They always seemed to help him think, just like they did for me.
“Leave them out for us too,” I said.
Her little smile left me snickering. “Of course, dear. Now, finish up those dishes and then I have real dessert ready. Chocolate chip cheesecake.”
I stopped scrubbing altogether, my rubber-gloved hands resting in the sink filled with hot sudsy water for the things that weren’t going to go into the dishwasher. “You didn’t.”
“I most certainly did.” Her smile went wider. “Perhaps I had this woman’s intuition that we might be celebrating tonight. You’re not the only one who knows things, Tallie.” And with that cryptic comment, she took off with her plate of cookies and the smile still firmly on her face.
“What do think that was all about?” I asked Gina.
“I have no idea, but now I’m intrigued. Do you think you should go in to the meeting with your parents and Max? Will he decide without you? Is that what she thinks we’ll be celebrating? But how would she have known?”
“He won’t agree to anything without talking to me if he knows what’s good for him.”
“We’ve got two good guys, don’t we?” She leaned her head on my shoulder.
We used to stand like this all the time when we were younger, dreaming and wishing for boys who would love us, make us feel like princesses, and thinking of names for children, what kind of car we’d drive, and what kind of house we’d own. Making up lives for ourselves.
And the lives we’d dreamed had turned out much different, but I wouldn’t change a minute of it if it brought me right here, standing like this with my best friend in my mother’s kitchen. Even if we did have another murderer in town and I was going to have to help figure out whodunit and why so we could catch them before they hurt anyone else.
“Love you,” I said.
“Love you more. Now, let’s get the rest of these dishes done and find out what your parents are going to offer their newest family addition. You know they’re going to be even more pressing on getting the two of you married if Max turns out to be good at being a funeral director. They won’t want to lose him if you decide to break up.”
Lordy, that was the last thing I needed to worry about. But we were solid, and he wasn’t goin
g anywhere. Or at least I hoped not. If my dad drove him crazy enough, though, all bets might be off. Maybe we should have held off on the renovations until we saw whether Max would survive working with my father, my mother and my brother.
I followed Gina back out into the dining room, where there was indeed chocolate chip cheesecake, candles on the table and Jeremy down on one knee with a beautiful, blue-velvet box in his hands and a soft smile on his face, all for Gina.
Chapter Six
“You brat! Did you know?” I teased Max on our way out the door, loaded down with leftovers and presents, just as I’d predicted. I was so thankful to have a place to put everything, and now we had food for the next several days.
Walking toward Max’s car, we stopped short when yelling erupted from the house next door. Christmas could be rough for a lot of families, but I had to smile. The McClaren clan often had eruptions, with the six kids and a dad who brooked no crap. They also liked to play board games, and that could be a special form of war when it came to that family. I had a ton of memories of them beating their dad at Monopoly by all ganging up on him and tromping him. Good times.
I let Max drive home because he was feeling a certain amount of chivalry after watching the heart-melting way my brother had proposed to my best friend.
Jeremy had said all the right words in the right tone and with the right facial expressions, and not one moment felt false. For Gina’s part, she had been on her knees with him on the floor before he got the first word out and was trying to pry the ring out of the box before he’d even asked. He kissed her instead, and it was the loveliest thing I’d seen in years. He’d done good, I’d give him that, though I wasn’t going to tell him so. He had other things to take care of.
“I did know,” Max said smugly, and I would have socked him in the arm if he wasn’t making a turn. I didn’t want him to hit the curb or get into an accident.
“I can’t believe you kept it a secret from me.”
“We had other things going on, and Jeremy told me he was proposing, but not exactly when. He didn’t decide that until the two of you were in the kitchen. He’s been carrying around the ring for weeks. Good choice; the girl and the ring.” He turned just enough to wink at me.
I conceded that the ring was beautiful, square-cut and made from a ring that had been my great-grandmother’s, which my mom had been holding on to for years and years. And the girl was awesome too, so I’d let this whole secret-keeping thing slide.
Just this once.
“You can have that secret without getting in trouble, but I would like to know about any others before you decide to spring things on me, like this helping-at-the-funeral-home thing. Are you really sure you want to do that?” I knotted my hands in my lap, happy I wasn’t driving, but happier when we pulled into the parking lot behind the funeral home. I met Max at the back of the car to go in.
He unlocked the door and then held my hand as we went up the two flights of stairs to our new magnificent abode, even if I didn’t want to live in the funeral home. I might not have a choice anymore if Max loved being a part of the family business.
“Tallie, I know you’re not a huge lover of the business, but I can see the benefits and the huge satisfaction in helping those who are left behind to move through the grief. I think it will be nice to not always be on the other side of the desk from someone who is either trying to cheat on their taxes, trying to figure out how to cheat on their taxes or who has already cheated on their taxes and wants me to ignore that fact.”
“I suppose. But the funeral business can be so sad.” I walked up the carpeted stairs backward to keep him in sight. Running my hand over the wallpaper kept me centered and away from falling down the stairs.
“And fulfilling. I might not have been made for this from the beginning, but Jeremy knew what he wanted to be when we were in grade school together. He used to get razzed endlessly about being the guy only dead people liked. He was called Cadaver Boy for years, and yet he still does it with his whole heart. Let’s put aside the sibling rivalry for a minute. Tell me what you really think about how he does his job.”
“Fantastically,” I said with absolutely no hesitation, standing on the landing outside our apartment door.
“Then maybe I can at least do mine well. And it’s not forever. I told your dad I would discuss it with you and then we’d see over a trial year. If we all decide it would be a better fit for me to go back to taxes, I won’t have been out of the game too long to slip right back in.”
“You’re a good man, Max Bennett.” I stepped into his arms.
“You’re not so bad yourself, Tallulah Graver. Even if you are always getting involved in these murder cases.” He rested his chin on top of my head as we stood there for just a minute. “I was wondering if we could also take that year to live together and see if you really want to be stuck with me for the rest of your life before I propose marriage.”
I didn’t stiffen necessarily, but I went very still. Thoughts ran through my head. Did I want to be married again? Waldo had not been an awesome husband, but then, I hadn’t been a great wife either, so that was a draw. My parents had a great marriage, and I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Jeremy and Gina would make a lasting marriage, but was I capable of that?
“I have to wait a whole year?” The words popped out of my mouth without me thinking them through.
He laughed, and I felt it vibrate in my chest. “I’d propose to you right now if I thought you’d say yes, but I don’t want to go too early with you and scare you off.”
“I’d say yes if you had a ring,” I said cheekily.
He reached into his pocket and laughed when I backed up a half step.
“I’m just getting out a piece of paper to write down that you said yes, so now you can’t take it back.” He turned up my face and kissed me softly. “Maybe it will be sometime within the next year. We’ll see, but you said yes. I’m going to call that a win.” He smiled. “And with that, I’m going to look through my minute client list until your dad puts me on the schedule. We’re going to need to speed up the progress on the apartment. We need all this space and the extra bathrooms and an actual bedroom if I have to be up at all hours to answer a call in the middle of the night and be presentable.”
He kissed my knuckles and walked away.
Max. A funeral director. Well, if anyone suspicious came into the funeral parlor, I wouldn’t have to ask my dad or brother for the details anymore. I could just ask Max. Always looking on the bright side of life, that was me. Me and my soon-to-be undertaker boyfriend. Oh Lordy.
* * *
I said goodbye to Max at about seven forty-five in the morning the day after Christmas. He grunted and rolled away from me. Immediately, Mr. Fleefers sat on his hip and Peanut cuddled up against his back, where I had been moments ago.
The grunting was not exactly the way I’d wanted to start out the morning, but right now he was adorable, and no matter his decision about the funeral director thing, he was mine. The rest we’d figure out as we went along.
Arriving at the Bean, I staked out a table while I waited for Uncle Sherman to show up. Soon I would be able to eat all the things. I should still be stuffed from dinner last night, but I wasn’t and eyed a chocolate-chocolate chip muffin in the case at the counter with my mouth watering. I settled for a cup of whoopie pie latte and chatting with Mama Shirley while I cooled my heels.
She smiled as she came up to the table. “Glad to see your brother finally did the right thing.”
“I twisted his arm, you know. Told him that he’d better do it soon or you were going to come after him with that deadly rolling pin of yours.”
She paused for a second while in the act of putting down my cup. “You didn’t.”
I laughed. “No, I didn’t. He came up with it all on his own. I’m actually superproud of him, not that I’ll tell him that.”
“Yeah, he doesn’t need to have a swollen head on top of the magnificent catch he just made.” S
he flipped back her platinum-blond hair with a sparkle in her eyes.
We both laughed this time as Sherman walked through the door.
“Care to share the joke? I need a laugh right about now.”
Sherman looked drained. For all the laughing he did and the irreverence he showed for our police chief, he must be taking the firebug hard if he looked like he’d been run over by one of his own fire trucks.
Mama Shirley bustled away to get him a cup of whatever he usually drank. I waited for him to sit down and then took his hand.
“All joking aside, are you okay?” I asked.
“Not really, Tallie. This is wearing heavy on me. I can’t seem to find him, or her, and I don’t even know where to start looking. I know it’s eventually going to be Burton’s thing, being that arson is a crime, and it’s in the fire investigator’s hands right now, but I don’t like someone in my town burning things. We’re still combing through the fire from Christmas Eve. They’re escalating, and I need to get them stopped.”
“I heard the sirens going next door at one in the morning and wondered if you’d had one last night too.”
Sherman waved a hand at me. “No, that was a normal fire on a stove. Why do people throw water on grease fires? Maybe I should run a class or something. Anyway, it’s frustrating as anything. I feel reactive, not proactive, and I just thought if you could look around and keep your ear to the ground while helping Bertie with this enormous load, maybe I’d be able to hand Burton the bad guy like you do with those murders.”
“Of course I’ll help.” I tapped my fingers on the tabletop with nervousness. I was going to do this, but would I help or hinder?
“Your dad’s probably not going to like it a lot.”
“Pssh, he can deal.” That, at least, I had confidence in. “Now that he’s got my boyfriend in his clutches, there’s probably not a lot I can do wrong. And I’ll still be doing the cleaning, just in a different kind of way, so he won’t be able to yell too much.”
