by Jane Tesh
We rode down to the post office and bought a copy of the paper from the machine. As Jerry drove back home, I read the article aloud.
“‘New Artist Investigates New Career.’ Not a bad headline. ‘Upcoming artist, Madeline Maclin Fairweather, has her sights set on two careers: painting and detecting. As owner of Maclin Investigations, she has successfully solved two murders in the neighboring town of Celosia.’”
“Make that three,” Jerry said.
“‘She is also one of the new artists to be featured in the Weyland Gallery’s New Artist Show this weekend. Fairweather says her style is based on but not limited to Impressionism. She also enjoys representative landscapes and portraits. One of her portraits hangs in the lobby of the Baker Auditorium in Celosia. Fairweather moved from Parkland to Celosia to set up her own detective agency. She soon established herself as a reputable investigator. She had done a lot of painting while in college, and she discovered that she wanted to continue her artwork. When asked how she plans to balance the two very different careers, Fairweather replied, “I can always make time for the things that are important to me.”’” I folded the paper. “She goes on to say when the exhibit will be open and all that. I have to say it’s a good article, short and to the point.”
“Nice picture, too.”
I took another look at the photo of me sitting in the booth at Deely’s. Valerie was right. The light was good. I looked relaxed and well, competent. “I’d hire me. To paint or detect. Or both.”
“And you’re ready for the show?”
“A few finishing touches, and yes, I’ll be ready.” My cell phone rang, and I checked the caller ID. It was Tori. “Hold that thought,” I said. “Hello, Tori.”
“Madeline, I found the ties for Jerry. Do you think you’d have time to come by today?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Can you come for lunch?”
“We’ll be there.” I closed the phone. “Tori’s found some ties for you. That should cheer you up.”
“Yes, it will,” he said.
***
The ties were beautiful silk ties in lovely subtle patterns, a far cry from Jerry’s usual flying pigs and light bulbs. Tori carefully took each one out of the box. I could tell she wanted to prolong our visit. Over lunch, I answered all her questions about Rachel. She was relieved that Nathan was all right.
“And the little girls are with their father?”
“Yes, they’ll be all right.”
“You were so lucky she didn’t hurt you, Madeline.”
“She’s tough,” Jerry said. “She can handle anything. And so can you, Tori.”
Tori nodded. “You know, I’m almost beginning to believe that. Do you know what I did? I called Aaron.”
“You called him? What did he say?”
“I told him I was very sorry to hear about his partner. I said I wished he’d been honest with me, but I understood why he couldn’t be. He was worried about what people here would think.” Her smile trembled. “He said he was so sorry. He was crying a little. I told him it was okay. He’s coming to visit me. We’re going to see about getting a divorce and getting on with our lives. But I told him I’d like to be friends, if we could, and he said he’d like that, too.”
“That’s wonderful,” I said. “So you don’t blame yourself any more?”
She was practically beaming. “No, not at all. Oh, I almost forgot.” She hopped up from the table and dug another box out of a dark corner of the dining room. “You might like to have this, too, Jerry. It belonged to Cousin Ivor Satterfield.”
Jerry opened the box. He stared for a moment and then took out a gold pocket watch. Then he grinned and turned the watch so that I could see the “S” engraved on the lid.
“It has an ‘S’ for Satterfield,” Tori said, “but I didn’t think you’d mind.”
I knew Jerry was thinking “S” for “Snyder.” “Thanks, Tori. I don’t mind at all. I can certainly use this.”
“You lucky dog,” I said sotto voce.
Tori turned to me. “Oh, and Madeline.” She took a quick shaky little breath. “I-I’ve decided to come to the ballet, if you’re going, if you’re not too busy.”
“Of course. That’s great.”
“I think I’ll be okay.”
“I know you will. Let me call and see if we can get tickets.”
“Jerry, will you come, too?”
He smoothed the watch. “For you, Tori, anything.”
She watched as I called the ballet company. “I do hope I don’t I lose my nerve.”
Fortunately, the ballet was not sold out. I ordered three tickets and closed my phone. “Okay, we’re all set. Sleeping Beauty next Saturday at eight.”
She grasped my hand with her fragile little fingers. “Oh, Madeline,” she said, her large eyes shining with tears. “Thank you so much. I know it will be beautiful.”
I knew she was remembering her one night of triumph, the one night when everything was all right with her world, the one night when she was a star.
“You’re welcome, Tori.”
“Really, how can I ever thank you?”
Jerry grinned as he held up the gold watch. “Believe me, Tori. This makes everything more than even.”
***
Jerry admired his new watch and chuckled all the way home.
“No one deserves to be that lucky,” I said.
“It’s a sign.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“A special kind of sign.”
I sighed. I could see “Jerry Fairweather, Super Psychic” in neon flashing from our front window. “No.”
“A sign that says, ‘Justice Rules the Swamp.’”
“It’s not justice. It’s incredible coincidence.”
Jerry grinned. “How about a sign that says, ‘You get only one incredible coincidence in your life. Get out while you can.’”
“Don’t tease me.”
“I mean it. I’m done.”
I wasn’t sure how long this would last. “Well, if you’re serious, that’s great.”
“I can’t have Hortensia picking up my bad habits.”
Dear me, I thought. If he gives up his cons and schemes, he’s going to have more time to think about babies. I have to find another way to divert his attention.
He turned on the CD player. “This calls for a little Hoffmann.”
A joyful duet filled the car. “What are they saying?”
“Hoffmann and Antonia are singing, ‘Happy married couple, the future is ours! Ours!’”
“Antonia. She dies, doesn’t she?”
“It’s opera, Mac. You can’t have everything.”
“I’m just saying they didn’t have much of a future. Doesn’t the portrait of her mother come to life and cause her to sing herself to death?”
“Yes, but that’s not likely to happen to you. And speaking of portraits, are you going to be ready for the show?”
“I have the rest of today and tonight to work. A little more work on Austin and Denisha’s picture, and I’ll be ready.”
“I knew you could do it.”
“Thanks.”
“Just like I knew you could solve this case.”
I thought of sensitive little Tori hiding herself away because she didn’t have all the facts. I thought of the Lever brothers and how they never realized the good their mother could do. I thought of poor spurned Clara trying to convince her daughter she was entitled to a fortune. With this little bit of misinformation, she’d caused Rachel nothing but frustration and grief and the rest of her life in prison. By comparison, what my mother had done to me by hauling me to pageants was just a mild inconvenience. I found myself hoping she’d come to the exhibit, even looking forward to it.
Jerry turned up the volume. “Listen to this part. ‘To love let us be true! May its eternal chains keep our hearts victorious over time itself.’ Not sure I like the eternal chains. That’s a tall order, isn’t it?”
“I think we can do
it.”
“Happy married couple, the future is ours, ours?”
We had almost reached our driveway, but I pulled over next to the field full of wildflowers, the field that led up to our house, the one place in the world I knew I really wanted to be. Maybe this was how Tales of Hoffmann fit into our lives. “Happy married couple, the future is ours, ours”? I gave Jerry a long, lingering, and relieved kiss.
“Yes,” I said. “Yes.”
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Contents
Acknowledgments
Epigraph
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
More from this Author
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