by Linda Reilly
A look of intense sadness came over Joy, so stark that it made Lara’s heart catch. Lara suspected that the rest of Joy’s family had also passed, so she decided not to question her any further.
Then something in the photo caught Lara’s eye. The father, dressed formally in the picture, had a white flower plunked in the center of his tie. It looked exactly like the one Lara had bought at the library sale!
“Is that your dad?” Lara asked, her pulse racing.
Joy smiled, and her eyes grew watery. “Yes,” she said. “The kindest, most caring man you could ever know. We…lost him far too soon.”
“I’m sorry,” Lara said. “It’s so weird, though. I saw a tie tack just like that at the library’s yard sale today.” She omitted the fact that she’d bought said tie tack.
“That was one of Dad’s favorites,” Joy said. “He wore it all the time. I don’t know where it ended up. I left home right after high school, so I don’t have any family heirlooms.”
Joy had no doubt been too young to remember, but Lara pressed her anyway. “Did he ever say why he liked it so much?”
“Not that I recall, but hey, I was only a kid at the time.” She pointed to the photo again, this time at a little girl with unruly curls that jutted at all angles from her head. “This is me. Don’t you recognize the hair?”
“Ah, yes,” Lara said. “Which one is your mom?”
Joy pointed to the woman with the huge smile. “Right here. Wasn’t she pretty?”
Not pretty in the traditional sense, Lara thought, but contentment radiated from the woman’s wide-set eyes. “Very attractive,” Lara agreed, still focused on the tie tack.
Joy glanced at the teapot-shaped wall clock. “Well, guess it’s time to close up.” She bit down on one lip, then, “Lara, did you ever have a chance to ask Deanna if she’d like me to do a special tealeaf reading for her? I can bring everything I need, even the teapot and cups.”
“Sorry, but I haven’t,” Lara said. “In fact, I haven’t seen her or spoken to her for a few days.”
“Oh.” Joy sounded disappointed.
Lara’s heart went out to the woman. Joy struck her as being a gentle but lonely soul. A bit of attention from a celebrity of Deanna’s caliber would no doubt make her day, if not her entire year.
“I told Deanna I’d call her tomorrow,” Lara said, “so I’ll be sure to mention it to her.”
“Thanks.” Joy’s face brightened. “I’d be honored if she’d allow me to do that for her. It wouldn’t hurt my business any, either, if you know what I mean.” She winked at Lara. “Thanks again for coming here, both of you.”
Lara and Gideon murmured their goodbyes, then headed outside toward Gideon’s car. It was still light outside, but a faint glimmer of the moon was visible in the eastern sky.
“What was that all about?” Gideon asked, opening the passenger-side door for Lara.
She slipped inside the car and snapped her seat belt into place. A moment later, Gideon did the same.
“Are you talking about the photo?” Lara asked.
“Of course I’m talking about the photo. I certainly didn’t buy into that spiel about you having a secret.”
“Really?” Lara joked, deflecting the question. “So, you don’t find me mysterious enough to be harboring a deep, dark secret?”
Gideon leaned over as far as his seat belt would allow, then turned her face toward his and kissed her lightly on the lips. “I suspect you have many deep, dark secrets. But I was talking about the photo. What was it that was so intriguing?”
Loose lips, Lara reminded herself.
She was so tempted to share with Gideon what she’d seen the day she found Donald Waitt’s body. She knew she could trust him to keep it confidential. On the other hand, if he thought she was asking too many questions, he’d only worry needlessly.
“It was just…weird. I saw a tie tack like that one at the library’s yard sale today. I mean, what are the odds, right?”
Gideon sat up straight and started his engine. “I didn’t want to bring this up at dinner, Lara, but I’m worried.”
“Why?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
“You had a bad experience last year, and now another man’s been murdered. I’m worried that you’re getting pulled in because you want to help Deanna.”
Lara felt all of her emotions flood her face. Joy was right; she wore her feelings like a badge.
“I do want to help Deanna,” she admitted. “You’re right about that part. But remember, Gid, two of our kittens are in that mansion.”
He shook his head, his forehead creased. “It’s more than that, Lara. You have this way of wanting to set the world straight, of needing to rescue everything and everyone you come in contact with. It’s one of the things I lo…I mean, that I admire so much about you.” His face reddened and he slid the gearshift into Drive.
He was about to say love before he caught himself.
“Gid, I promise, I’m not doing anything that would put me in danger. What happened last year was something no one could’ve predicted. And I just remembered—I haven’t even told you about our new assistant, Kayla.”
“Uh, yes you did. She’s the one who thought she recognized Nancy Sherman.”
“Oh, right. Well, I told you about her, but I didn’t really go into detail. Gid, she’s an absolute treasure. We are so lucky to have her.”
If her sudden change of topic bothered Gideon, he didn’t protest. He listened patiently as she described Kayla’s attributes, commenting at all the appropriate places. But Lara knew he wouldn’t stop worrying.
Tomorrow would be the perfect day to bake a blueberry buckle and deliver it to Gideon’s uncle Amico. The sweet old guy remembered things from the past. Maybe not clearly, but he’d definitely recalled something about Donald Waitt’s high school football days.
“Are you going to visit your uncle tomorrow?” Lara asked.
“Wish I could, but I promised myself I’d devote tomorrow to my backlog. If I don’t, I’ll be starting off the week at a distinct disadvantage.”
“I should do the same,” Lara said, a vision of her unfinished art projects spinning on a mental wheel through her head. “Gid, would you mind if I visited your uncle myself? I promised him a blueberry buckle. I don’t want him to think I’m breaking that promise.”
Gideon smiled, his eyes remaining fixed on the curve in the road. “Lara, that’s a great idea. He’d love that. You sure you have time?”
“I’ll make time,” she said. “We don’t do adoptions on Sunday. I’ll Google a recipe, unless Aunt Fran can dig one up.”
“She’s pretty cozy with the chief these days, isn’t she?” Gideon commented.
Lara turned sharply toward him. “What do you mean? Where did you hear that?”
Gideon shrugged. “Oh, you know…around.” He looked at her. “I didn’t mean to imply anything. I think it’s nice that they’re such good friends.”
“I do, too,” Lara said. “It just…seems awfully fast.”
“They’ve known each other for a long time, though, Lara. Sort of like…us.”
Like us.
Lara swallowed.
“In fact”—Gideon cleared his throat—“and at the risk of sounding cliché, would you care to come up to my apartment for the proverbial nightcap?”
Gideon lived in the apartment directly above his office. She’d been there only a few times, but had never lingered.
Take a risk, she told herself.
“A proverbial nightcap sounds delightful,” she said.
Chapter 19
Lara got up earlier than usual on Sunday to perform all the usual feline duties. With the cats fed and the litter boxes scooped, she hopped into the Saturn and drove directly to the Shop-Along.
The market opened early. Lately they’d been carryi
ng produce from local farms. The blueberries were a tad pricey, but worth every cent. For Gideon’s uncle, she wanted the freshest ingredients, not the watery, frozen stuff. The recipe called for two cups of the berries, but she bought an extra pint. They were delicious to eat alone, in cereal, or even in salads.
Her date with Gideon had left her on an emotional high, and she found herself humming an old Beatles ballad, one that her dad had always liked. Munster danced around her ankles, no doubt hoping to catch of drop of spilled batter. She’d already given him a blueberry, which he’d sniffed for a solid minute before finally chewing and swallowing. Lara had read that an occasional blueberry was healthy for cats, so long as they didn’t overindulge.
Instead of asking her aunt to dig up a recipe for the buckle, Lara had found one on the internet. She propped her tablet against a canister so she could read it while she worked. Aunt Fran came into the kitchen just as Lara was popping the batter-filled pan into the oven.
“You’re an ambitious one today,” her aunt said in a voice that sounded clogged. Clad in a pair of white cotton slacks topped by a light blue jersey tunic, she clutched a crumpled tissue in one hand. Dolce trailed behind her.
“You don’t sound so good,” Lara said.
“I’ve picked up a summer cold. Don’t get too close to me. What are you baking?”
Lara smiled. “I decided to make Gid’s uncle Amico that blueberry buckle I promised him. I figured I’d drive over to the facility later and bring it to him.” She set the timer on the stove for twenty-five minutes.
“Isn’t Gideon going with you?”
“Nope. He’s playing catch-up today with his workload. We might take a late afternoon bike ride if he gets enough work done. We’re playing it by ear.”
Aunt Fran ran some water and put the teakettle on the burner. “So, how was last night? Did you and Gideon like that new restaurant?”
“The food was great,” Lara said, avoiding her aunt’s gaze. “We both had the grilled bass, and we shared a chocolate soufflé—it was all yummy. The décor was a bit underdone for me. I think they’re aiming for the minimalist look—but it certainly didn’t detract from the meal.”
“I’ll have to try it sometime.” Her aunt snagged a tissue from the cardboard box on the counter. “Lara, I think I’ll skip church today. I’m sure Pastor Folger wouldn’t appreciate me contaminating his entire congregation.”
“I agree. Stay home and rest. Dolce and Frankie will keep you company.” She sensed that her aunt wanted to question her more about her evening, so she quickly switched topics. “I think I’ll call Deanna while this buckle is in the oven. She texted me yesterday and said the kittens are fine, but I’d feel better hearing it from her directly.”
Aunt Fran dropped into a chair. Dolce leaped onto her lap and curled into a circle, his chin resting on his tail. “You’re still worried about the housekeeper, aren’t you?”
“Now that you mention it…” Lara told her the story Kayla had related about Nancy Sherman.
“Interesting,” Aunt Fran said. “If that’s true, then I honestly feel bad for the woman. If she was coerced by her husband into robbing banks, she probably feels terrible guilt over it. It might account for her unfriendly manner.”
The kettle whistled. Lara prepared her aunt’s tea and one for herself, then delivered both mugs to the table.
“I know what you mean, Aunt Fran. And maybe she does feel guilty. But I’d be more empathetic if the woman liked cats. It bothers me that she thinks they all belong outside.”
“A lot of people still think that way,” her aunt said, shaking her head. She sneezed into her tissue. “Lara, I think I’ll take my tea upstairs. You don’t need my germs flying all over you.”
“Want me to bring it up for you?”
“No, I’ll be fine.” She gently dislodged Dolce, rose from her chair, and picked up her cup.
“What about medicine? Anything I can pick up at the drug store for you?”
“Not a thing. I have a medicine cabinet full of stuff for colds and flu. You do your own thing today and I’ll rest.”
“Okay, but text or call me if you think of anything you need. Should I postpone my visit to Uncle Amico?” After the evening she’d spent with Gideon, she felt as if he were her uncle, too.
“Absolutely not,” Aunt Fran said, pushing her chair closer to the table. “I’m fine. It’s only a cold, and a mild one, at that.” She waved and shuffled off, Lara staring after her. Lara picked up her cell phone and tapped Deanna’s saved number.
“Yes, Lara?” came a cheery voice.
“Good morning, Deanna. You’re sounding chipper today.”
The actress sighed. “Well, I’m trying to keep my spirits up. Quite frankly, I’m bored. I hate going out because I’m afraid people will recognize me. Nancy’s very efficient, but, well, sometimes she goes into a quiet mode. Not always the best company.”
Lara could well imagine. She wondered if Nancy ever took any days off. It sounded as if she was there all the time. “Are any of the cable news vans still there?”
“No! Thank goodness, they’ve finally all left. Fools. What did they think they were going to gain by hanging around here?”
“A story, I guess,” was all Lara could think of to say. “The kittens looked adorable in those pics you sent. How are they doing?”
“They’re doing really well.” Lara heard the smile in Deanna’s voice. “I’m so glad I adopted them. And I swear, they’ve grown at least an inch since last week. You should see them. I’m still keeping them upstairs, but this coming week I’m going to bring them downstairs for a few hours a day. It’ll give them a chance to explore a bit. Soon they’ll be able to eat in the kitchen, and we can move their litter box to a more convenient spot.”
We? Lara wanted to ask. Did that mean Deanna and Nancy?
“Kittens sure do grow fast,” Lara said. “I can’t wait to see them again. Have you heard anything new from the police?”
“Not a thing,” Deanna said acidly. “I told you, their so-called evidence turned out to be a dead end. They don’t even know who vandalized my car, let alone who killed poor Donald.”
“That’s so frustrating,” Lara said.
“I don’t suppose you’ve learned anything useful,” Deanna prodded.
“I’m afraid I haven’t,” Lara said, “but I’m keeping my eyes and ears open.”
Lara desperately wanted to ask her about the Queen Anne’s Lace, but she knew that fell into the forbidden category. Still, it would help if she knew whether or not the police had revealed the tidbit about the flowers scattered at the crime scene.
Maybe she should attack it from a different angle.
“Deanna, when Kayla and I were there several days ago, we couldn’t help admiring the wildflowers in the yard behind the mansion.”
“They do make for a pretty scene, don’t they?” Once again, Lara knew the actress was smiling.
“They sure do, but it made me start thinking about plants, and how some are poisonous to cats.”
“Yes, I’ve read that,” Deanna said. “We haven’t ordered any plants for the house yet, but maybe you could give me a list of what to avoid?”
“I’ll do that,” Lara promised, mentally adding it to her “to do” list. It was probably something she should have done sooner, for all of the new cat moms and dads. “I noticed in the yard you had some lily of the valley, and something that reminded me of poison hemlock.” That part was a fib, but a necessary one in Lara’s mind. “Queen Anne’s Lace, maybe? I’m not sure. I’m not really a plant expert. Anyway, both lily of the valley and poison hemlock are deadly to cats. If you’re thinking of cutting any of the wildflowers and bringing them inside, be sure to check first to see if they’re poisonous. Feel free to call on me if you need help.”
“Will do, Lara, though I certainly hope there’s no poison he
mlock out there.” She laughed nervously. Then, in a ragged voice she said, “It’s the little things, isn’t it? The things you don’t give any thought to that can trip you up.”
Something in Deanna’s tone told Lara she’d hit a nerve, although Lara’s mention of Queen Anne’s Lace hadn’t seemed to jog her at all.
“Yes, that’s all I’m trying to say. Have you thought any more about what we talked about? Did you think of any kids from your school days who might be holding a grudge?”
After a long silence Deanna said, “I did, but nothing rang a bell. To be honest, Lara, I don’t think turning the clock that far back is going to be of any help.”
Lara decided to back off. She’d planted the seed. For now, that was all she could do.
“Deanna, there’s another reason I called. Do you remember the nice woman who supplied the specialty teas at the welcome event?”
“Yes, I think I do. Joy or Joyce something.”
“Joy Renfield,” Lara said. “A friend and I were having dinner out last night when we spotted her tea room in the adjoining strip mall. The shop was still open so we popped in, and she read our tea leaves.”
“Oh, that sounds like a hoot. All nonsense, of course, but I can see the appeal. Did she tell you anything you didn’t already know?”
“Not really.” Lara had already known she carried a huge secret—no surprise there. “But Joy is a big follower of yours, and she offered to come to your home and do a special reading for you. She’ll bring all the teas, the pot, the cups—the whole shebang. I told her I’d float the idea to you, but couldn’t promise anything.”
“You know,” Deanna said in a weary voice. “I could probably use the distraction. Besides, who knows—maybe she’ll be able to tell me who killed Donald Waitt.”
Lara wasn’t amused by the actress’s flippant remark. Nothing about murder was funny.
“Probably not,” Lara said flatly, “but I wanted to let you know about her offer.”
After a moment Deanna said, “I didn’t mean to sound callous, Lara. I’m just so mentally drained from all this. Would you give me that woman’s number?”
