Why did his voice have to come out all husky like that? I opened my mouth to answer and nothing came out. After several long moments, I nodded.
“Okay.” He leaned in and lightly kissed my parted lips. “Let me know when you are.” The words whispered across my mouth.
A sigh escaped me and then I watched him walk out of the kitchen.
Not ready, my grandmother ’ s old cat.
TITLE
Lethal Lasagna
Chapter 20
The next morning I stumbled out of bed and moseyed into the shower. My dreams were filled with riding on the back of a motorcycle behind a man wearing a small silver top hat. Warm water helped to wash away the sleepiness.
I dressed in a lightweight pink pantsuit with yellow and blue flowers down the legs. As I opened the door to my room, I silently prayed. Lord, please don’t let us feel strange around each other this morning.
The house was silent. No smells of bacon or coffee greeted me as I headed down the hallway. It was already after eight so where was Brandon?
Entering the kitchen, my gaze moved to the table. A beautiful bouquet of yellow roses decorated the center of it. I moved further into the room. An envelope rested against the glass vase. I picked it up and pulled out the card. I’m glad we are friends. Love Brandon.
My gaze moved to the large window. His pickup was absent. I bent over the flowers and inhaled. The sweet smell of roses tickled my nose.
Just to make sure he had left, I walked to the front porch. “Brandon?” No answer. His bed was made. A book lay on the end table, I picked it up. It surprised me to see that it was a Zane Grey western. I’m not sure why but I hadn’t expected him to be a western reader. Kind of took away from the motorcycle man I’d grown to think of him as.
Walking back to the kitchen, I made a pot of coffee and then picked up the cordless phone and called Gloria. Her machine answered. “It’s just me. Call me when you get a chance. Maybe we can do lunch or something.” I hung up and laid the phone on the table.
The smell of fresh, brewed coffee filled my kitchen. I put two slices of bread into the toaster, grabbed butter and jam from the fridge, put them on the table and then poured a cup of coffee. Why was it so important to Darlene to know she was the youngest of the Mad Hatters? I asked myself.
Then, I shook my head. No, today I’m not going to think of Darlene or the Mad Hatters.
As I waited for the bread to pop into toast, I looked about. The kitchen floor needed to be swept and mopped. After breakfast, I’d get on that. Plus throw in a load of laundry. Were the young people, Karen and Jack, really so upset with Mitzi that they would stalk and kill her?
No, I’m not going to think about that. I admonished myself again. But, if they had, why keep coming back to class after she was dead? Maybe to throw the police off their scent. “Not like the police aren’t checking into them anyway.” I grumbled to myself.
The grinding of metal sounded from the toaster as the bread popped up. For the next several minutes I busied myself eating and thinking. Today I was going to take it easy. Hang around the house and get some light housework done. I’m not going to think about Mitzi or murder today. I told myself.
I started by running the dishwasher. I swept and mopped the kitchen floor, tossed a load of whites into the washer, and then ran the vacuum though the house. I’d thought of Sadie as a suspect, but what was her motive? I fought the urge to continue thinking about Mitzi and all the people who might have wanted her dead.
Within an hour, I was ready to go on my walk with Sprocket. He pulled and tugged as we ambled down the road and around the block. For the first time in a while we took our time. I let him smell every bush and flower along the way while I enjoyed the sunshine and fresh air.
I pushed all thoughts of Mitzi from my mind. Tonight I’d ask more questions at the writing class but for today, I wanted to give my brain a rest. She’d been on my mind so much lately, I’d almost forgotten what it was like not to think about the murder. There I go again. Push the thoughts away, Claire. The self-talk helped and so did my dog.
Sprocket picked up the scent of a cat and away we went. He pulled me down the sidewalk toward home. The black and white kitty he smelled realized he was in pursuit and the race was on.
My big dog barked and pulled. I hung on and prayed he wouldn’t get away from me. Being jerked down the sidewalk wasn’t my idea of good-for-me exercise.
The cat went up a tree and Sprocket finally stopped. Winded I panted beside the big dog. His tongue hung out and he gave me a doggie grin.
We’d stopped in front of Sara’s house. The cat hissed from his perch above us and Sprocket barked.
I stared up at the frightened animal. “Come on, Sprocket. You’ve scared the poor kitty enough for one day.” I pulled on his leash, still trying to get my breath.
“Looks like he gave you a run for your money,” Sara said as she closed her front door.
I tried to smile. “That’s one of the bad things about having such a big dog. When they take it into their heads to chase a poor defenseless cat, you don’t have much choice but to follow.”
She laughed. “Hey, are you real busy?”
“Nope, I’m taking it easy today. My house is pretty straight and now that I’ve walked the dog, I’m going to spend the rest of the day reading and lounging around.” I pushed a strand of hair out of my eyes.
Disappointment filled her voice. “Oh, okay.”
As much as I hated giving up my time of liberation, I asked. “Is there something I can do for you?” Please let it be something easy, so I can go back to my stress free day. It was a selfish prayer, but if you don’t tell the Lord what you want, you’ll never get it. The thought that I might not get it anyway struck me as comical.
“I’m heading down to the flea market this morning and wondered if you’d like to go. Mom is working, and I thought that it might be nice to get to know you better. But, since you already have plans, I guess I’ll go alone.” Sara’s voice held a hint of sadness. She looked up at the hissing cat, avoiding my gaze.
I studied Sprocket. It didn’t take a genius to know I was being played. But, if the girl was that lonesome for company, maybe I should go with her.
“If you will give me a couple of minutes to put Sprocket away and grab my pocketbook, I’ll go.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose on you.”
“I’m sure. It’ll be fun to go to the flea market. I haven’t been in a while. Be back in a flash.” I pulled the shaggy dog to the yard and shut the gate. The screen door slammed as I hurried into the house.
I’m not sure why I did it but I scribbled a note for Brandon as to where I was going, propped it against the flower vase on the table, and then grabbed my purse.
Sara backed the old red pickup out of her garage. It spit out a cloud of smoke. She motioned for me to get in. Oh my stars! Death by rust and smog.
I jerked hard on the passenger’s door. It resisted. I yanked with all my might and it swung open. “Sara, would you rather take my car?” I asked pulling myself into the cracked vinyl seat.
“Oh no, I want to take the truck in case I find something really big that I can’t live without.” She waited until I put on my seatbelt and then put the pickup into reverse.
The vehicle sputtered and jerked down the road. Thankfully, the market wasn’t that far from the house. Whiplash would soon be setting in if we had much further to go. A neck brace would clash with my pink tops, I felt sure of it.
We came to a jerky stop in front of the old building that housed the flea market. I sighed with relief.
“Sorry about that. The old gal doesn’t drive as smooth as she once did.” Sara slipped out of the pickup and came around to my side. She pulled open the door and smiled.
I unbuckled my rusty seatbelt. “Why don’t you trade it in?”
We started toward the building. “It was… my dad’s, and I just can’t give it up. Stupid I know, but I grew up with that pickup.”
<
br /> Sara wore a pair of jeans and a purple tee shirt today. White tennis shoes covered her large feet. I was amazed to see that she also had in a pair of amethyst earrings. She looked almost normal. Everyone knows that white tennis shoes are a fashion faux pas during the winter months. I pushed the thought aside and said. “That’s not silly at all. I have my mother’s brooch from when she was a teenager. We all want things of our loved ones to keep them in our memories.”
“Thanks for understanding.” She held the door open for me.
The aroma of onions, hot dogs, frying meat, and fresh baked bread filled the warehouse. Several food vendors had set up shop and created small café style eating spaces.
Colorful booths lined the walls and filled the center of the building. I had no idea it had expanded so much in my absence. The gleam in Sara’s eyes told me she was going to enjoy this almost as much as I. She grabbed a cardboard box and proceeded down the aisle against the wall.
Okay, maybe Sara was a little more into this than me. I watched her plow right past the brightly colored display of scarves and hats. What was the hurry?
I walked to the scarves and selected a light lavender one. It would go great with a dark purple pantsuit or dress. The silk material ran through my fingers.
From the corner of my eye, I detected a sudden movement. I turned my head for a better view and saw Martha Lewis duck down the next row of booths. Had she been spying on me? And if so, why? *Note to self: Go back and put Martha Lewis on the list of suspects*
“Hey, what are you doing here?”
Shocked at the sudden voice, I swirled around to find that Olivia stood behind me. Her strawberry blond hair was pulled up into a ponytail. She wore a short skirt and a green blouse that matched her eyes.
I couldn’t help but laugh. Teenagers have no sense of subtlety. “I’m here having a good time. What about you?”
She rubbed the silky lavender fabric between her fingers. “I’m here to help raise money for our youth group. We’re selling hot dogs over there.” Her finger pointed to one of the food stands. “I like this scarf. Are you going to buy it?”
“I think so.”
Olivia released the scarf, and she picked up a green hat. “How does this look on me?” She slapped it down over her hair.
“Looks great.” The color brought out the green in her eyes.
I paid the woman for the scarf and moved to the next booth. Old and new books lined several bookshelves. Olivia followed.
“She has the series I’m reading.”
I smiled at Ms. Cooper, the English teacher from the high school, while Olivia held up a book for me to see. A mouse decorated the cover. It held a sword in one hand and a shield in the other.
“What’s it about?” From the corner of my eye, I noticed Ms. Cooper’s head bent over the book she was reading when we arrived.
“Well, it’s a series about animals that live in an Abbey and other animals that try to take it away from them. I guess you’d call it an adventure. I love the moles and the way they talk. Oh! And then there are the rabbits, they are so funny.” Olivia took a breath. Her eyes had grown into round disks in her face.
“Wow, they sound exciting.” I picked up one of the other books in the series. An otter with an earring graced its face. I flipped the book over to read the back cover.
Olivia practically squealed. “Oh, they are. You should try one.”
A picture of the author met my gaze. So much for reading about the book. “Okay, I’ll take this one.”
“No, start with this one. It’s the first.” Olivia handed me the book with the little mouse.
“Have you read this one?” I asked, showing her the Otter.
She sighed. “Not yet. But I will someday.”
“Then I’ll get them both. But you have to read this one while I read the other. How does that sound?” I took both books to the schoolteacher.
“That’s great! Thanks, Mrs. Parker.” Olivia frowned.
I glanced in the direction she was looking. A young man by the food booth waved for her to come to him. I handed her the book. “Go on. It looks like you’re needed. I’ll be by in a little bit for one of those hot dogs.”
She smiled her thanks and took off.
“That was a nice thing you just did,” Ms. Cooper said as she took my money. “Is there another book you’d like to have? It’s on me.” A frown marred her features as she stared over large round glasses that made her look like an owl.
I accepted my change. “That’s not necessary. I’m curious as to what the kids are reading.”
Her grey hair was pulled into a tight knot at the back of her head. Big brown eyes studied me. “Aren’t you the lady who is snooping into the murder of Mitzi Douglas?”
I wondered how she knew. “What makes you think that?” I asked, picking up a historical romance and turning it over in my hand.
“I recognized your name, and I’m dating Detective Howard. He’s concerned you’re going to get into trouble poking around in his case.”
My attention had been captured. I watched her as she picked up the book she’d been reading and sat back down. The thought that Detective Howard was concerned about me, took me by surprise. “Please, call me Claire.”
“Thanks. Having any luck with your snooping?” She asked, the smile had left her face, and now she just seemed angry.
I sighed. “No. Does your boyfriend still suspect me?”
“Honestly, he hasn’t said.” Ms. Cooper bent her head back to her book and dismissed me as if I were one of her irritating students.
It suddenly dawned on me that she might be jealous that he’d mentioned my name in relationship with his case. I finished reading the back of the book and picked up a second one by the same author, then cleared my throat.
She looked up. “Can I help you with something else?”
“Please, I’d like to get these two books, too.” I handed them to her. While she figured the total I continued. “Ms. Cooper, Mitzi was my best friend. I didn’t kill her, and I just want to know who did. My boyfriend and I just can’t seem to come up with anyone who disliked her enough to kill her.” Maybe saying I had a boyfriend would open her up to me.
I told myself it wasn’t a lie. Brandon is a boy, and he is my friend. Put them together and you get boyfriend. Okay, that’s a stretch.
A smile crossed her face. “Please call me, Laura.” She handed the books back to me; dimples filled her cheeks once more. “That’s what Marvin is having trouble with, too. Everyone seems to have liked her. If you ask me, I bet it was either a family member or a very close friend,” she whispered.
She sounded just like Detective Howard. “Oh there are at least three people who didn’t like her, but I don’t think any of them killed her,” I answered. “And, unfortunately that’s why the police are looking at me, her best friend.” I reminded her.
“You found people who didn’t like her?” She leaned forward.
It dawned on me, she’d relay any information I gave her to Detective Howard. Maybe I should drop a couple of names and let him look into them. “Darlene Lowery was jealous of Mitzi but like I said, it probably wasn’t enough to kill her over.”
I watched as she mentally repeated the name to herself several times before commenting. “Maybe not. Is she the only person?”
Pretending to look at another book, I tried to sound off-handed with my answer. “No, there is a couple in the creative writing class at the college that had words with her. It could have just been an age difference thing with them though. You know how young people are. I’m sure it was nothing.” The way her eyes lit up, I knew Detective Howard would be hearing from Ms. Cooper soon.
I put away the book. “It was nice talking to you, Laura. Thanks for the books.” As I walked off she was flipping her cell phone open.
TITLE
Lethal Lasagna
Chapter 21
When I turned around, Sara stood in front of me. “I thought you were right behind me.” She cr
ossed her arms over her chest. For a moment, I felt as if she were scolding me. Then a smile broke out across her face. “Come on. I want to show you something.” She grabbed one arm and pulled me down the next aisle.
I noted she’d exchanged the cardboard box for a big fabric shopping bag decorated with sunflowers and sequins. It hung from her arm and swung between us as she dragged me along.
We passed the lady who sold the shopping bags. I made a mental note to go back and buy one of them. Sara stopped so suddenly that I ran right into her back.
I looked around the booth and realized we were in the salt and pepper shaker kingdom. There were all kinds of collectible shakers.
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