Sure, there was a crazed killer on the loose in Misty Falls, but we weren’t living under a curfew… yet.
Chapter 15
I had a good day shopping, a short cat nap with Jeffrey, then got myself showered and ready for my night on the town.
At eight o’clock sharp, I walked into the Fox and Hound, the Irish-themed pub situated at the corner of town, just off the highway.
Some residents of Misty Falls refer to the Fox and Hound as the Lost and Found, on account of the many scarves and mittens that are left behind in the darkened booths, as well as the spontaneous relationships that are “found” right around last call.
The cozy pub, with its many dark corners and well-worn upholstery, was not what you’d call a singles bar. It was a far cry from the nightclubs in bigger cities, but in a small town like Misty Falls, it was the closest thing to a “scene” for younger people.
I’d been thinking a lot about my single status when I went shopping for clothes that afternoon. Each time I caught a glimpse of my hair in a mirror, I wondered if perhaps Pam was right. Maybe my short hair was telling men I’d just gotten out of a relationship and didn’t want anything to do with them until my hair had reached ponytail length.
I couldn’t make my hair grow any faster, even if I wanted to, but I could put a little more vitality into my clothing choices. That’s why I purchased a flattering wrap dress in sapphire blue. I wouldn’t normally wear such a tight-fitting outfit, but the girl who sold it to me said I had a fantastic figure. She also swore to me that she didn’t work on commission.
I paired the sleek dress with cable-knit tights and lace-up boots with a modest heel. My outfit seemed like the perfect compromise between comfort and style, and over top of everything, I wore a new wool jacket the same length as the dress.
I couldn’t take much credit for my put-together look, since I didn’t put it together so much as I walked into the shop and said I’d take everything on the mannequin in the window.
That evening, the Fox and Hound pub was about half full, and my entrance did not go unnoticed. So many heads turned to check out the girl in the wool coat and sapphire blue dress, you’d think my outfit was made of feathers and live squirrels.
I self-consciously wove my way around the tables, scanning for Jessica’s bright red hair and equally cheerful face. Eyes were on me the whole time, and people didn’t even have the courtesy to look away when I made eye contact. A few even waved at me.
After the third person nodded my way, I realized they didn’t think my new coat was made of live squirrels. They were just being friendly. Some other people came in through the pub’s front door, stamping snow off their boots, and they got the same treatment of raised faces and nods of recognition.
People being interested in each other’s comings and goings was just another aspect of small town life I would need to get used to.
I spotted Jessica’s red head near one of the pub’s three cozy fireplaces and went to join her.
“Small town life is so different,” I said as I took my seat. “In the city, nobody looks up when you walk into a place. If they do look, it means you’ve made a bad outfit choice and you’re tarted up like a hooker.”
Jessica grinned at me over her drink, which was amber hued and served in a glass mug, with a cinnamon stick at a jaunty angle.
“I’d love to see you, Stormy Day, tarted up like a hooker,” she said. “This blue dress is pretty nice, though. And the tights, the shoes, plus the necklace and matching bracelet. Tell me, did you go to Blue Enchantment and buy everything off the window mannequin?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Only because I’ve been dreaming about doing the same thing. But on my salary at the sandwich shop, I have to hope the good stuff is still around for the seasonal clearance sale.”
I tried not to wince visibly as I quickly turned to look at the glowing logs in the fireplace. I remembered why Jessica and I lost touch. She’d started talking about money every time I saw her—mostly about how she didn’t have any money and I did.
I couldn’t solve our wage disparity, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her it made me uncomfortable. If she’d needed a loan, I would have given it to her, but Jessica refused to go into any sort of debt.
Over the last few years, we were only seeing each other a few times a year—just enough time to catch up on love lives and gossip, but not enough time to get into casual griping about bills and whatnot.
She didn’t gripe, exactly. She probably only talked about money the way everyone does, but I had so much of it for a few years that I’d become self conscious. Other people didn’t see the long hours I put into work, or the sacrifices I made. I missed our ten-year high school reunion because I was in Hong Kong having the most miserable, lonely month of my life.
The trip to Hong Kong had been five years ago, and while I couldn’t remember if that particular deal had gone through or not, I could remember how sad I’d felt in my hotel room, looking at the photos of everyone who made it.
Jessica thought my life was exciting and glamorous, of course. She did nothing but compliment and admire my life when she came into the city for a visit.
Whenever we went for dinner there, I tried to pick up the tab for dinner, but that only made her try harder to grab it herself. Jessica had her pride, and she was no mooch. Eventually, I resorted to fibbing, secretly intercepting the waitress so I could pay the bill, and then telling Jessica the restaurant had comped our meal because one of the dishes had been too spicy.
By the second or third time we got our meals “for free,” she had to know what I was up to, but went along with the game.
As I stared into the pub’s pleasant fireplace, my heart warmed along with my body. Other than our financial mismatch, Jessica had been a wonderful friend over the years. I did want to reconnect with her now that I was back in Misty Falls, so I had to tell her the truth about all those “free” dinners.
I turned to her and said, “Jessica, remember when you came to the city right before I moved, and we went to that steak house?”
Her blue eyes widened. “That was the best night ever! And you’re so smart, Stormy, the way you always get those discounts.” She used her cinnamon stick as a straw to finish slurping up the last of her mulled drink, then giggled. “You know, I think this hot cider isn’t right. They forgot to put the booze in it.” She leaned in and whispered, “Can you do your magic and get me a free refill?”
With a sigh, I took her empty glass mug and sniffed it. The boozy smell, plus the rosiness of Jessica's cheeks, told me the drink had contained plenty of alcohol, but I still winked at my friend and left the table in search of our waitress.
When I got up to the bar, I located the waitress for our section and gave her my credit card to run a tab. I finished my instructions by saying, “And if my friend asks, could you imply that it’s all on the house?”
The waitress was an energetic lady with pure white hair. She could have been in her sixties, maybe with a bunch of grandchildren, but she seemed like the type of granny who dragged the other knitting club grannies out to learn how to tango.
“Let me guess,” the white-haired waitress said with a knowing smile. “Your friend’s poor and you’re rich?”
“I’m not rich.”
“Is that your BMW I saw in the parking lot just now when I stepped outside to check that the sidewalks were salted?”
My cheeks reddened as I admitted that the priciest car in the parking lot was mine.
“Then you’re not rich after all,” she said, surprising me. “Rich people don’t usually drive flashy cars. They drive old ones, so people won’t know about their wealth. I’ve got a rich uncle. I know things.”
“I should trade that car for something more practical.”
“You could trade it for my old van.” She winked. “Just kidding. I wouldn’t trade my van for anything. The old gal’s just hitting her prime, and I wouldn’t want to miss it. We gals need to stick togeth
er, you know?”
“You’re absolutely right.”
She finished processing my credit card, then handed it back to me with a smile. “Can I give you a tip?” she asked.
Laughing, I said, “You’re the waitress. I’m supposed to be giving you the tip.”
“I don’t see a wedding band on your finger, or on that one, at the end of the bar. Give him a chance, will ya?”
I followed her gaze to a man sitting at the other end of the bar. While the guys on either side of him were watching sports on the TV screens, he was looking my way.
“Green dress!” he yelled.
I turned to see who he was talking to, since I was wearing a blue dress. There was no one else behind me.
“Hey!” he yelled again.
It was the bearded guy I met at the veterinary clinic. Logan. The lawyer. Who was also my new tenant. Had he figured out who I was? He was certainly grinning like the dog who’d been left alone in the dining room with the thanksgiving buffet.
Logan waved and yelled across the bar, “Hey, cat lady!”
Yes, he was definitely yelling at me.
I nodded his way, then explained to the snowy-haired waitress that we’d met already at the vet clinic.
We were interrupted by him yelling, “Hey, cat lady, come buy me a drink!”
He was inebriated, but at least wasn’t calling me by name, which meant he probably didn’t know who I was. His dopey grin was from whatever had been in the empty pint glasses that sat in front of him.
“Another time,” I called across the bar. “I’m actually here with a friend. A girlfriend.”
“She can buy me a drink, too. There’s plenty of Logan to go around.” He laughed and clapped the shoulder of the older gentleman sitting next to him. “Do you know this girl? She can’t tell the difference between a boy cat and a girl cat. That’s why I call her cat lady.” He hiccuped.
While Logan regaled the man sitting next to him with stories of how incompetent I was at cat-gender-assessment, I rolled my eyes at the waitress. “He’s a real charmer. It’s just shocking nobody has snapped him up yet.”
She chuckled. “He likes you. He spotted you when you walked in and nearly leaned right out of his chair when you went around the corner. He said you look like that song. Devil With a Blue Dress On, except you’re a devil with a green dress.”
I looked down at my dress, which was definitely blue. “That guy must be color blind.”
“As far as flaws go, color blindness isn’t so bad.”
I gave her a wry smile and checked out her ring finger, which sported a thick gold band nested alongside another ring with a sparkling diamond. Married. That figured. The married ones are always trying to match people up, no matter how unlikely the pairing.
“He is cute, but not my type,” I told her.
“What is your type? I know all the singles in town. They’re all up in my head, in the database.”
“My type? Clean shaven. Not afraid of spiders. I think that’s about it.”
She shuffled her round serving tray to her hip and offered me her hand to shake. “I’m Dharma. Rhymes with karma, which I believe in. I live a charmed life because I help people find each other.”
I had one eye on Logan, who looked like he might get off his bar stool and come over to us, if he could locate the floor.
“I’d better get back to my girlfriend,” I said to Dharma, excusing myself.
“I’ll bring a couple more ciders in a flash,” she said. “On the house.” She winked.
As I turned and walked away, I heard Mr. Mountain Beard calling after me, “Don’t walk away, cat lady!”
I kept going, ignoring him. He’d been rude enough at the veterinarian’s office without the benefit of alcohol, and I had no desire to talk to him in whatever state of debauchery this was.
Even as I walked away, though, part of me wanted to turn back. Even with the scruffy beard, there was no denying his attractiveness. Feeling the heat of his eyes on my body did something to me—it made me walk with an exaggerated swing to my hips.
To my surprise, I was smiling when I got back to the table by the fireplace. I though the night on the town would be a chore, but I was having fun.
Jessica grinned up at me and gestured to a young woman who’d joined us at our table. “Stormy, this is Harper. Have you two met?”
I looked at the pretty blonde carefully. We hadn’t been introduced, and I didn’t know her name, but I did know her face. I’d gotten a good look at Harper the day before, when she’d fixed her makeup in front of the one-way mirror at Ruby’s.
The fantasy that had been running in my head, about getting even more of Logan’s attention, completely vanished.
When I’d seen Harper checking her makeup in Ruby’s secret mirror, she’d been standing next to Mr. Jenkins, the man who’d been arrested the night before at my neighbor’s house. The murderer. This blonde was friends with the murderer, and now she was sitting at my table with my friend.
Chapter 16
Harper smiled up at me and reached out to shake my hand. “Nice to meet you,” she said cheerfully. “Gorgeous day today, wasn’t it?”
I shook her hand, which was icy cool, and slowly pulled out a chair to take a seat. Harper seemed awfully cheerful for someone whose friend—or lover—was in police custody.
“Do you know who I am?” I asked her.
“You’re Jessica's friend,” she said, still smiling sweetly.
“My name is Stormy Day. I’m Finnegan Day’s daughter.”
Her nostrils flared for an instant, but her expression remained cheerful.
“I don’t know many of the locals,” she said. “Is your father a local celebrity?”
“He’s a police officer.” I studied her face for more signs of a reaction, but she kept up the cheerfulness, making me doubt what I thought I saw the day before.
Jessica said to her, “Don’t worry. Stormy’s not a stick-in-the-mud just because her dad’s a cop. In fact, she’s the one you want to get in trouble with, because she can talk her way out of anything.”
Harper flicked watchful eyes back and forth between us. “Is that so? What kind of trouble?”
I gave Jessica a shut-up-if-you-want-to-keep-getting-free-drinks look. She took the hint and mimed zipping her lips shut.
Harper turned to me said, “That must have been intimidating for all the guys you dated, I imagine. Probably made the really bad ones steer clear, though. Lucky you. Jessica said you two were friends back in high school, right? What was it like to grow up in a small town like this?”
“Really fun,” Jessica interjected. “Why this silly girl here ever left town is a mystery to me, but at least she’s back now.” She reached over and squeezed my forearm. “I’m never letting her leave again. If she so much as talks about leaving Misty Falls for a day trip, I’ll handcuff myself to her if I need to!”
Right then, our snowy-haired waitress appeared with the two ciders I ordered, plus a third one for the newcomer. “I took a wild guess,” she said.
We accepted all three of the drinks and thanked her. I glanced over to the bar and saw that Logan was watching sports on the overhead TV, and had switched to bottled water.
The girls started chatting away. Jessica told the new girl about the pranks we used to play during our senior year in high school. I nodded along with the conversation, denying nothing, and sipped my hot cider while my mind raced with suspicious thoughts.
This Harper girl seemed jumpy. Whenever someone walked in the door of the pub, she didn’t just glance up casually to see who it was, like the other people in the pub did. She would stop talking and freeze, like a prey animal looking out for the big, bad wolf.
Was she watching the door for the cops, or for someone else? What was her story?
“Where did you say you were from?” I asked.
“Here and there. Nowhere interesting.” She leaned in and settled her chin on her palm, pretending to be at ease, but leaning to one sid
e if I moved my head enough to block her view of the entrance.
“And what brought you here? Work? What kind of background do you have?”
Jessica reached across the table and flicked my arm. “What’s next, Stormy? Asking the poor girl what her five-year plan is? Gosh. Lighten up. This isn’t a job interview.” Jessica explained to Harper, “Stormy owns that cute little gift shop downtown. She just got one employee trained up and she’s looking for someone else to work part-time so she has more time to…”
Jessica trailed off and turned to look at me, frowning. “Stormy, what exactly will you do on your days off? Besides hang out with me more, of course. Do you have any hobbies?”
I crossed my arms, unhappy with the way the conversation had turned.
“Fine,” I admitted. “I’m a recovering workaholic. To be perfectly honest, I don’t know what I’ll do. Maybe I’ll take some arts and crafts classes at the community center. Or try yoga. Or… maybe meditation.”
Jessica started laughing and leaned forward, dropping her wavy red hair around her face like a modesty curtain. She kept laughing until she was wiping the corners of her eyes.
Finally, she looked up at me and said, “I might be down to the last twenty dollars in my bank account, but I’d gladly pay the drop-in fee for both of us, just to see you in a meditation class. Stormy Day, I bet you couldn’t sit still doing absolutely nothing for a whole five minutes, let alone an hour.”
“I could if I wanted to.”
“Do you want to?”
I frowned at my cider. “Not really,” I admitted.
They both laughed, then Jessica and Harper began talking about various exercise classes they’d tried.
I was starting to warm up to Harper, and wondered if my suspicion of her was just part of some reluctance to make new friends. Making friends was hard. You had to put yourself out there, and Harper was so young, and pretty.
She did keep watching the door, though, so I stayed curious.
During a lull in the conversation, I reached into my purse and pulled out the green masquerade mask I’d purchased the day before at the costume shop.
Death of a Dapper Snowman Page 9
