by Ellen Riggs
“I’d never drive anywhere with Asher,” she said. “Did you know he had more speeding tickets than any teenager in Clover Grove? He set a record.”
“I didn’t actually,” I said. “But I guess it was good practice for police work. Now, what piqued your interest in Piers Frankel and his sports car?”
“I thought you might be interested to know that I saw the same car sitting outside The Tipsy Grape the day before your guests arrived. I was in town getting my toenails clipped at the podiatrist and couldn’t help noticing the Porsche as I passed. We don’t see a lot of flashy cars like that, and it completely outclassed the red Corvette sitting beside it.”
She crossed her arms and smiled, waiting for my reaction. I blinked a few times and swallowed before speaking. “You saw my boss’s car and his boss’s car sitting together outside a bar? Before my guests arrived?”
“Ivy, have you been getting enough sleep? You’re slow on the uptake, even for you.”
“Why on earth would Piers and Wilf Darby be in a bar in Clover Grove together before our team retreat?”
“I don’t know. Aren’t you corporate types always scheming up takeovers?”
Recovering from the surprise, I said, “How come you didn’t mention seeing Wilf’s Corvette there the last time we chatted, Miss Evans?”
She shrugged. “I assumed he was just having cocktails with his lady friend until I saw the bigwig today. Besides, information is currency, isn’t it?”
“Apparently. Did you go into The Tipsy Grape, perchance?”
“Now, why would an upstanding woman like me go into a den of iniquity like that? Spirits have never touched these lips, Ivy. How do you think I’ve lived so long?”
I had a few good comebacks for that, but I tamped them down. “I’d sure love to know what they were talking about in that bar.”
“Then you’d better ask your mother,” Edna said. “I saw her boyfriend walk in as I was passing. It was broad daylight, mind you. Some people don’t care about appearances.”
“Mom’s boyfriend?” My poker face was certainly getting a workout today.
“One of them, anyway. Dahlia’s been getting around these days. It’s hard to keep up.”
“Could you describe this man?” I asked, as a flush tried to fight its way over my collar.
“Tall. Thin. Nicely trimmed grey beard a shade lighter than his hair. I don’t like beards on principle, of course. You never know how long food particles have been stuck in there.”
“Interesting,” I said, summoning Keats. The dog had slipped behind Edna to do his own investigation. He must have come up empty because his tail drooped in disappointment.
“I appreciate your sharing this information, Miss Evans, and I’ll pass it along promptly to Chief Harper.”
Smirking, she pulled the door open for me. “You don’t want to talk to your mom about her dating life? Can’t say as I blame you.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised how frank we are in our family sometimes,” I said. “But I’ve had a few lectures from Chief Harper about not sharing leads quickly enough.”
“Me too,” she said. “But Kellan doesn’t scare me. I vividly remember vaccinating that boy. He wasn’t squirmy like your brother. Asher could become boneless and practically slide into a crack to escape. Kellan was stoic. Never made a peep.”
I could tell she preferred thrashers like Asher. There was probably more satisfaction in finally nailing them. Maybe she thought Kellan was the weaker for his stoicism, but she was wrong about that. Asher was brash and bold, but Kellan was strategic and dogged. I’d rather he had my back in any battle.
That’s why I planned to contact him promptly about everything that had happened today. It had nothing to do with Mom and how her rotational dating was lighting up the town’s gossip lines. I’d leave that in Daisy’s capable hands.
As if reading my mind, Edna said, “How’s Daisy doing after the Lloyd Boyce fiasco? I’m surprised her husband didn’t divorce her.”
That comment hurt far more than her digs about my mother, but my blandest smile had locked itself down automatically. Maybe the effects of my concussion were abating.
“All’s good with my family,” I said, passing in front of her and walking down the front stairs. “How’s bridge club these days? I’m impressed with how well you bounced back after the Lloyd Boyce fiasco. Nicely done, Miss Evans.”
I felt her caustic gaze withering me from behind and didn’t turn till I got to the truck.
“You seem moody these days, Ivy,” she called out. “I hope it’s not because Kellan Harper has taken up with that blonde. If it makes you feel better, she’s got nothing on you… other than the fact that she’s not bogged down by a million pets. Kellan’s more genteel than the average Clover Grove man. You’d do better to find someone who can tolerate all your manure.” She waited a beat before firing the last shot. “It won’t be easy. But there are worse things than being single. I’m a role model for you.”
My foot slipped as I tried to get into the truck and I did a face-plant into the driver’s seat. Keats, who’d jumped in ahead of me, leaned over from the passenger seat to lick my hair. “It’s okay, buddy, I’m fine,” I said. “A kick in the prides never killed anyone.”
“It’s a shame about Kellan but at least you have your mutt,” Edna shouted. “In the long run, dogs are probably a better investment, no matter how handsome the police chief is.”
I managed to swing into the truck without mishap on the second try. “Enjoy the blueberry cake, Miss Evans,” I called. “I’ll be back with the beef bourguignon later.”
“Out here, we just call it stew, Ivy. The sooner you drop the affectations, the sooner you’ll be accepted and find an appropriate match. No man wants a snooty outsider.”
I stalled twice backing out, which was no surprise. Her comments had completely deflated me. I felt so small I could barely reach the pedals.
“One day she’ll get what’s coming to her, Keats,” I said, gunning it out of Edna’s driveway just for the satisfaction of sending dust whirling up into her face. “Sometimes you just have to trust in karma.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Please tell me this isn’t another intervention,” my mother said, looking up from her seat at Daisy’s kitchen table.
“It’s another intervention,” I said, slipping into the seat opposite her. “But just between you and me, this time.”
“Plus Daisy, obviously.” She rolled her eyes toward my sister, who was scrubbing the kitchen counter with extra verve. Mom had already left a semicircle of lip prints on a white china mug she’d chosen herself, no doubt to aggravate her firstborn. With every fresh application of scarlet, Daisy spritzed the counter with vinegar solution. She was itching to decontaminate the mug but she’d have to wait.
“I don’t want to drag this out, Mom,” I said, cradling my own cup of tea. “In fact, I’d prefer never to hear about your dating life again.”
“Good,” she said, raising a manicured hand. “Let’s leave it there, then, shall we?”
“We shan’t and can’t,” I said, following her gaze to the crescents of dirt under my own fingernails. No matter how many times a day I used soap and a nail brush, the grime was nearly always there. “Edna Evans told me you have a longer string of suitors than we imagined.”
“I explained the concept of rotational dating, Ivy. I’m simply enjoying the company of several men. One likes to dance, another to walk in the hills, a third to enjoy the limited cultural events this town has to offer, and so on. I don’t like to be pinned down and variety is the spice of life.”
It looked like Daisy might snap her arm in two from the pressure of scouring.
“No need to debate your approach,” I said. “Even if it’s not for the rest of us. I really just want to speak to you about one particular man. Tall, thin and bearded, Edna said. You’ve been seen at The Tipsy Grape with him, apparently.”
“Thaddeus, yes. He’s from Dorset Hills and joins me
for a cocktail from time to time. Lovely man, although too much of a dog enthusiast for anything serious, I’m afraid.” She flashed her teeth at me. “What about him?”
“Apparently Edna saw him go into the bar around the same time the president of Flordale met with Wilf Darby. It was the day before the rest of the guests had even arrived in Clover Grove. I’m wondering what they were talking about, and knowing how loud Wilf was, I thought your friend Thaddeus might have overheard something useful.”
Daisy looked up from her cleaning. “Couldn’t you just leave that legwork to Kellan, Ivy?”
“I told him about it,” I said. “I figure he has his hands full and the least I can do is help out where Flordale politics are involved.”
Mom pulled out her phone and tapped a text, her long nails clicking. “I don’t blame you for wanting to advocate for yourself, Ivy. We won’t be able to relax in this town until Asher is chief of police.”
I nearly spit out my mouthful of tea. “Mom, come on. Asher has many wonderful qualities, but if he were chief, all the criminals would run free. He’s too nice.”
“There’s nothing wrong with nice,” she said. “In fact, there’s everything right about it. Kellan could learn a thing or two about nice from your brother.”
“Mom, Kellan’s a good guy,” Daisy said. “Cut him a break.”
“I will not. He’s made life difficult for me on numerous occasions. And he broke Ivy’s heart, too.”
I considered mentioning all the ways Kellan had helped Mom, but it would create too much of a diversion.
“There’s nothing wrong with Ivy reconnecting with Kellan,” Daisy said. “Although seeing a cop would be difficult. Their job is so dangerous.”
“That’s right,” Mom said, although I was pretty sure that hadn’t factored into her thinking. “Plus he spurned her once already, and no man gets a second chance to do that with the Galloway girls.”
“Except my husband,” Daisy said, with a pained smile.
“You have children. That’s different,” Mom said. “Although I’d never have taken your father back in a million years.”
“Let’s come full circle and talk about Thaddeus,” I said.
Mom pushed her chair back and stood, smoothing the creases from her royal blue A-line dress. It looked more appropriate for high tea than a mug of pekoe in Daisy’s kitchen.
“Are we done?” Daisy asked, swooping in to collect the mug with the waxy red stains.
“Yes, darling. Now, go get yourself ready, and lend Ivy something presentable to wear. We’re meeting Thaddeus at The Thirsty Grape in an hour.”
“Why do I have to go?” Daisy whined, carrying the mug to the sink.
“Because I want my favorite daughters to meet my gentleman friend,” she said, with a tinkling little laugh. “Now, please don’t mention my rotation to Thaddeus, or Charlie for that matter, Ivy. I’m sure they’re dating others too, but there’s no reason to be crass about it.”
“Charlie and I have more important things to discuss than your love life,” I said, following Daisy out of the room.
Half an hour later, Daisy and I slunk into the bar behind our mother. She waved gaily at the bartender and walked directly to a table in the darkest corner. Gesturing for me to slide into the booth ahead of her, she said, “I don’t want Thaddeus to see that your pants are too short.”
“Then you shouldn’t have made me wear Daisy’s clothes,” I said. “I’m four inches taller than her.”
“Well, you couldn’t walk into a nice bar like this in bibbed overalls,” she said.
“Overalls suit my lifestyle now,” I said. “I wore suits for ten years and it feels great to expand my lungs. Which I currently can’t do in Daisy’s blouse without popping the buttons.”
“Then don’t breathe too much,” Mom advised. “Slow and steady wins the race. I’m sure you know that. You’ve always been my calm one.”
The door opened and we all looked up, expecting tall, thin and bearded. What we saw was tall, brawny and clean-shaven. Kellan Harper.
I waved and he walked toward us.
“Why is he here?” Mom asked. “I don’t need the chief of police chaperoning me.”
“This isn’t about you, remember? It’s about finding out who killed Wilf Darby, and I let Kellan know what we were doing.”
He slipped into the booth beside Daisy and opposite my mother. “Ivy, giving me a heads up about what you’re doing is an improvement,” he said. “But you shouldn’t be doing anything at all. Don’t you have enough work with your farm and your guests?”
“Jilly’s got it covered,” I said. “She’s doing career coaching and a resume workshop today. I don’t think any of them want to stick around Flordale after what’s happened.”
Mom tapped her nails on the table to get Kellan’s attention. “Ivy discovered one of my sources might have information,” she said. “I was happy to make the introductions.”
“I thought we should move quickly on this because Piers Frankel is only in town for another day,” I told Kellan. “He wanted my answer about his proposition by tomorrow.”
“Proposition!” Three voices overlapped.
“Not that kind of proposition,” I said. “Although it was equally distasteful. He wants me to come back to Flordale in Wilf’s position with a huge salary increase. He’d hoped to announce it to the team while they’re here.”
Mom gasped, covered her mouth, and then clapped her hands. “Oh Ivy, that’s wonderful news. I’m so happy for you.” She reached for my hand and squeezed it hard. “I always knew they’d regret the way they treated you and come crawling back. And the president himself, no less.”
I shook my hand loose. “He regrets the optics and the bad press, Mom, that’s all. His contempt for me—or at least my new lifestyle—was quite obvious.”
“But that’s understandable,” Mom said. “Running a hobby farm is a ridiculous lifestyle choice. Kellan thinks so, too.”
“Don’t bring me into this,” he said. The light was dim but I could still tell his face had flushed. “Ivy’s lifestyle choices are her own to make.”
“But isn’t that why you chose the other girl?” Mom asked. “I assume she’s no farmer.”
My gasp of horror burst not one, but two buttons on Daisy’s blouse. Looking down, I realized my sports bra was now on full display. I don’t know if I was more mortified that my bra was showing, or that it was the ugliest bra in the world. Either way, I clutched the edges of the blouse together and felt my face ignite. Luckily Mom didn’t notice because her sights were still on Kellan. But Kellan certainly noticed. His eyes dropped to my chest again and again, either hoping or fearing the free show would repeat.
“A mother cares about these things,” she continued. “I heard Ivy was so shocked to see you and your lady at the harvest fair that she threw up.”
Holding the blouse with one hand, I grabbed her hand with the other and squeezed until she yelped. “Mom, Kellan’s lifestyle choices are his own to make.”
“True,” he said, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Although I’ll clarify for the record that the woman in question is the fiancée of an old friend. They’re thinking about moving here, so I showed her around.”
I appreciated the clarification, even if he wasn’t meeting my eyes. Even if he disapproved of my farm. The clarification, not to mention the smirk, told me there might still be hope. And to my mind, the best way to move ahead was to stick to the matter at hand.
“Kellan, don’t you think it’s odd that Piers Frankel arrived at my farm when his staff were all away to make me this grand offer? He said Wilf made a mistake in letting me go, and further, that Wilf was supposed to woo me back during the team retreat.”
Kellan shrugged. “I don’t know how companies work. Happily, I’ve never had to work for one.”
“Then you’ll just need to trust me that it’s odd. It was clear to me that he wanted Wilf Darby gone. He said Wilf was a liability to Flordale.”
&nb
sp; “Well, I doubt he’d kill Wilf, if that’s what you’re implying,” Kellan said. “There are easier ways to get rid of a vice president. Like a huge buyout. He was willing to throw money at you to get what he wanted.”
“Yeah, well, there’s something fishy going on. Piers lied about just arriving in town, when he’s been here for days. What else is he covering up? I’m hoping Mom’s boyfriend overheard something when Piers and Wilf met up here.”
“Thaddeus is not my boyfriend, Ivy,” she said. “He’s just one of many gentlemen I spend time with on occasion. Please don’t give Kellan the wrong idea.”
“Mom, enough. Let’s stick to business.”
“All right,” she said, jerking her hand away from mine. “Let’s talk about your promotion, then. When do you start?”
“Never. Never is when I start, Mom. Right now I have a houseful of possible suspects in my former boss’s murder. Do you really think I’d want to step into his shoes and put myself on the firing line? On top of that, Wilf’s boss might be a suspect, not to mention his girlfriend or possibly her jealous husband. Working in senior management at Flordale is dangerous. I’d rather take my chances with my vicious pig.”
Kellan laughed, and it was a welcome sound, even if it was at my expense. “Avis Arron and her husband both have alibis,” he said. “So strike two off the list.”
“Even so, I’d never go back to work there again.”
“But darling, with the black cloud hanging over the farm—”
“I may need to find a job to help support the farm till the clouds clear, and I’ll do that locally if I need to. Dorset Hills would have work for people with my skills.”
She tried to grab my hand again. “Just think about it, that’s all I ask. You were the only one of my children to escape this smallminded town, and now—”
“And now I’m back and I love it,” I said. “Keats and I are settled here for good, so you’d better get used to it.”
We glared at each other long enough that Daisy threw herself into the breach. “Any sign of the murder weapon yet?”
