“No plans.” Plus, he would surely mention the car parked across from his driveway, and I didn’t want to think about that. “So, what are you in the mood for later?”
“Besides Cap’n Crunch, peanut butter, and maple walnut ice cream? Surprise me.”
At six-fifteen, I arrived on Rox’s doorstep with Fozzie’s leash in one hand and a loaded Red Apple Market sack in the other.
“Hope you don’t mind me bringing Fozzie,” I said while he led the way to the kitchen. “He’s been alone all day because Lily has a cold.”
Lily was Fozzie’s eleven-year-old buddy who took him for a walk every day after school—something we started when I couldn’t leave him in my apartment for hours on end. It earned Lily a little money as my dog-walker, and it provided my pooch a much-needed bathroom break. Now, it just gave him some good exercise.
Except for today, so I owed Fozzie a walk as well as the companionship.
“Are you kidding?” Rox asked. “I guarantee you that I’m happier than he is to have the company.” With both hands supporting her lower back, she grinned when I pulled out two small containers of Cobb salad from the bag and then dwarfed them with a tub of maple walnut ice cream and two boxes of cereal. “I know what I want for dinner,” she said, snatching up the closest box.
Pulling it from her hands, I returned it to the cantaloupe orange laminate counter. “You’re having a salad, and then, if you’re very good, you can have the yummy dessert I brought you.”
She peeked inside the bag and found the jar of crunchy peanut butter. “Be still my heart. Maple walnut and peanut butter with Cap’n Crunch sprinkles.”
And I thought I had a sweet tooth. “Are you trying to put yourself into a sugar coma?”
“Hey, at least I’d get some sleep.”
“Speaking of which, you should be in bed. Go,” I said, shooing her out of the kitchen. “Find us a good movie to watch, and I’ll bring in your delicious salad.”
Groaning, Rox waddled into the hallway. “Cap’n Crunch can probably double as croutons. You know, for some extra deliciousness.”
“I’m going to ignore that as the ravings of a sleep-deprived pregnant woman. Besides, I have something on ice in the car that you’re gonna want to save room for.”
The opening credits had barely finished running for When Harry Met Sally when Rox turned to me. “What exactly is in the car?”
“I’ll be happy to show you.” Setting aside my salad bowl, I pushed off her queen-sized bed while Fozzie sprung to the door as if he were as eager for dessert as Rox. “After you eat two more bites of your salad.”
“Hey, who’s supposed to sound like a mom here? You or me?”
“Someone needs to make sure you eat something green so that your kid doesn’t come out swaddled in sugar.”
“At this point I’d be okay with that,” she grumbled, glaring at the round belly stretching her “Baby on board” pajama top to the limit. “ ‘Cause it’s been feeling like the pregnancy that will never end.”
“It will. He just hasn’t been ready to make his grand entrance.”
“Well, he has six more days to get ready.”
That sounded very specific. “What’s in six days? A doctor’s appointment?”
She nodded. “And if Junior still doesn’t want to come out and play, I’ll be induced.”
“So the big day will be Monday at the latest?”
I got another nod, this one accompanied by a sigh.
“Okay, then! You’re in the home stretch now.”
“Thank goodness. ‘Cause I’m really tired of having to pee every five minutes.” Rox grimaced as she swung her feet to the floor. “And my back is killing me.”
“Perhaps some pumpkin cheesecake would make you feel better.”
Rox brightened. “Your pumpkin cheesecake?”
“I made it for my mother’s party last night.”
“I’m shocked there’s any left over.”
There wouldn’t have been if she hadn’t called to save me from raiding my refrigerator as soon as I got home. “Steve’s not big on cheesecake, and I’m quite sure my mother didn’t have any.”
“Is your mom dieting again?” Rox asked, toddling to the bathroom.
“I think she’s on the ‘I don’t want anything prepared by my daughter’s hands’ diet.”
“What’s her problem?”
That was a loaded question. “It’s a long story that will definitely require cheesecake.”
Rox grinned from the bathroom doorway. “Exactly what I’m in the mood for today.”
Ten minutes later, Rox was moaning as if all the cheesecake she’d wolfed down could make a sudden reappearance. “I can’t believe she did that to you.”
“Me either,” I said, wishing that my fat cells could find some comfort in the last creamy forkful. “The story will run Wednesday.”
“You are so screwed.”
Screwed? That felt a little over the top.
Embarrassed to be cast as the lucky daughter of a rich and successful local celebrity? Yes, definitely.
Angry to be manipulated in this public way by my own mother? Heck, yes.
But screwed? “You mean because I can’t tell anybody the truth without damaging my mother’s carefully crafted image?” Because I was already all too aware of the trap Marietta had set for me.
Rox scrunched closer to where I was stretched out across the bed. “That, too, which is exactly why you have to keep the car.”
I dropped my fork to my plate. “That’s not gonna happen. I refuse—”
“I know, but think about it. The big show she put on when she presented it to you is going to become ‘the story’ when the paper comes out. Everyone who knows you is going to expect to see you in it. If they don’t and that car continues to sit at your granny’s, they’re gonna know that this was just some publicity stunt by your mother.”
“Crap.”
Rox nodded. “Like I said, you’re screwed.”
“I’m screwed,” I repeated at the same time that my phone started ringing.
Stepping into the hallway with my phone, I was relieved to see George Bassett’s name as the caller ID. Because I wasn’t ready to start driving that Subaru. “Give me some good news, Georgie.”
“Uh …” he sputtered after a long pause.
“Okay, then give me the not-so-good news.”
“I was taking your wheels off and noticed that your pads are really thin.”
I wasn’t accustomed to being told that anything of mine was too thin and tried to wrap my brain around this being a bad thing. “What’s that mean exactly?”
“It means you need a brake job. Pads and rotors.”
“Seriously?”
“It’ll get unsafe for you to drive her this way pretty soon, so it’s not just something I’m calling to recommend. I’m telling you as your friend. We need to do this.”
Jeez Louise, this was the second day in a row that someone expressed concern for my safety. Only this time it came across as sincere.
Expensive and sincere.
I gritted my teeth. “How much is this going to cost?”
“You’re not gonna like this,” he said, sounding just like he did on Thursday.
“Just tell me.”
He gave me a rough estimate that made me want to scream. “Could be more. You know these old Jags. Everything’s special order.”
“Yeah.” My car was special, all right.
“So is that a yes?”
What choice did I have? “Go ahead and do what you need to do.”
“Okay. I’ll give you a call when she’s done. It’ll probably be toward the end of the week.”
That meant I had until Friday to come up with two thousand dollars.
I was so screwed.
Chapter Seventeen
SHORTLY BEFORE MIDNIGHT struck during the New Year’s Eve party scene in the movie, I was feeling almost as m
iserable as Sally while I drowned my sorrows in a bowl of maple walnut ice cream.
Then I bit down on a walnut shell that felt like a nail being hammered into my back molar. “Ow!” I exclaimed, my misery index soaring.
Pausing the movie, Rox joined me in the inspection of the tiny offender in my palm. “What is that?”
“The part of the walnut that you need to stay away from if you don’t want to crack a filling, ‘cause I’m pretty sure that’s what I just did.”
While I gingerly felt along the ridgeline of my tooth, she patted my back. “You’d better make an appointment to see your dentist.”
The one who had given me that filling had long since retired. “I don’t have a dentist.”
“You’ve been back for over a year. It’s high time you get one.”
“Now who’s sounding like a mother?”
She flashed me a satisfied smile. “I’ve been in training to sound like one for nine months, so get used to me dispensing unsolicited advice. Doesn’t mean it’s not good advice, because you need to have that looked at.”
Good advice that I couldn’t afford to take right now. “Who’s your dentist?” I asked for future reference.
“Dr. Carpp.”
“Carp, like the fish?”
Rox spelled it for me. “And he’s gentle. Eddie even likes him, and he’s a big baby when it comes to this stuff. So promise me you’ll make an appointment.”
“I promise.” I just didn’t promise when.
* * *
Less than an hour later, I was back at the Red Apple Market to find something to soothe my now-sensitive tooth when I spotted Mavis Burnside stocking up on the Greek yogurt that was on sale.
“I like the cherry flavor,” I said as I reached past her to pick up a container.
Mavis smiled. “We meet again. How are you doing, Charmaine?”
Based on everything I’d heard when I was giving her a manicure yesterday, I thought total honesty could play to my advantage. “Well, I was just fine, and then I bit down on something that screwed up my tooth.” I held up the carton of yogurt. “So I might be eating soft foods for a few days.”
“Oh, you poor thing. Have you been to a dentist?”
I shook my head. “I have to find one. Who do you and Althea go to?”
“I’ve seen him just the one time since I moved here.” Mavis furrowed her silvery-brown brows. “Now, what was his name?”
“He’s the same dentist Althea was trying to remember yesterday, right?”
She nodded.
Good, because he was the local dentist I’d most like to visit.
“It’s a funny name,” Mavis said, blankly staring at the carton of eggs in her shopping cart. “I associate it with a fish for some reason.”
It was a sure bet as to the reason why. “Dr. Carpp?”
“That’s it. Dr. Carpp. How could I forget that name?” She gave her head a little shake. “It’s moments like these that make me feel like I’m turning into my sister.”
Speaking of whom. “Where is Althea? In the car?”
“Oh, no. She’d get into too much mischief in the car. She’s at home watching TV.”
“Alone?”
“She’s fine. Now that she has that cat to keep her company, she’s perfectly content if I need to sneak out for a few minutes.”
“Really.” Not what I had expected to hear. “Kinda sounds like my grandmother. She loves to watch TV with her cat on her lap.”
“I swear, getting that cat has been a godsend.”
“I’m sure Mrs. Easley’s cat was happy to find such a good second home,” I said to see what I could find out about how he came to park himself on Althea’s lap.
“I don’t know how he happened to pick us, but it worked out great.”
How could Mavis not know? She was there.
Studying her face I didn’t sense any tension. Actually, quite the opposite because she appeared to be relieved. “You don’t know how he came to live with you?”
A sad smile curled her lips. “It was such a jumble after Leland knocked on my door that night. I can only assume that after we let ourselves into Naomi’s place, we left the door ajar and Tiger snuck out.”
“And snuck into your condo?” That seemed unlikely. The few times that Myron had escaped from Gram’s house, he wanted to explore for a while and we always found him hiding from us in the yard. Not inside a neighbor’s house.
Mavis shrugged a thin shoulder. “I went back home after the police arrived and found that cat on Althea’s lap. So she must’ve gone to the door and let him in.”
“Unless he escaped earlier, and managed to slip in when you weren’t looking,” I said, thinking out loud. “Maybe when those guys were leaving.”
“I suppose that’s possible. I did have the garage door open when I left to pick up something for supper, so he could have snuck in then. Who knows?”
“You left?” Around the same time that Naomi might have been sinking beneath the water line in her tub?
Mavis’s gaze sharpened much like Duke’s did when I criticized his coffee. “Just for a few minutes. Fifteen at the most. The Roadkill Grill is really quick.”
I’d eaten there plenty of times with Steve when I wanted to avoid the wagging tongues at Duke’s. It wasn’t that quick. “But you didn’t see the cat or anything that looked out of the ordinary when you got back.”
She shook her head. “Not until Leland came over a few minutes into our meal. After that, nothing was ordinary.”
“I can imagine.” What I didn’t want to imagine was Althea anywhere near that bathtub, but if she had been left alone for half an hour or more …
“Well, I should get going,” Mavis announced, pasting a pleasant smile on her face, but I suspected that the scene playing out in her mind hadn’t been any more pleasant than mine. “Don’t want my sister to be alone for too long.”
“Right.” Because there was no telling what could happen.
* * *
“Althea couldn’t have been so angry about those trees that she went across the street to yell at Naomi some more, and then what?” I asked the dog in the passenger seat next to me.
“She dunks Naomi in the tub, grabs the cat, and shuffles back to her condo before her sister gets home? Fozzie, the woman could barely walk.”
He huffed warm doggy breath at me.
“Oh, trust me. I realize how ridiculous this sounds. But Althea had motive.” To kill her neighbor to exact revenge for her trees? “Okay, admittedly it’s not the best motive ever. And she had opportunity when she was left alone with that key. Although she probably had to use a walker, so she wasn’t going to set any land speed records for murder. And she had that darned cat sitting on her lap by the end of the evening. So tell me where I have any of that wrong and I’ll drop the whole hot mess.”
Fozzie barked, not in response to any of my musings but at the sight of a golden retriever leading his owner out of the dog park I was driving past.
When the barking morphed into a whimper while he pressed his wet nose to the window, I knew exactly what he was trying to tell me.
“Sorry, pal. I know we didn’t get in our walk tonight, but it’s after dark and the park’s closed.”
But the sidewalk around the park was well-lit, and after all the junk food I’d consumed today, heading straight home felt like another poor choice. In no hurry to compound my problems, I parked the Honda near the entrance.
Ten minutes later, my brain was busy churning on the mystery of how that cat ended up with Althea when a tall figure dressed in a hooded sweatshirt rounded a corner of the park and jogged straight toward Fozzie and me. He was probably no more menacing than Hailey had turned out to be earlier this morning, but I had once underestimated the danger from an approaching jogger and I didn’t want to make that mistake again.
Just as I tightened my hold on Fozzie’s leash and was prepared to scream for help from the teenage
girls jogging across the street, the guy stepped off the curb, giving Fozzie a wide berth.
Nodding at me as he passed, I got a good look at the face that had been hidden in shadow: a handsome black face made all the more interesting by the scar on his jawline, made long ago from a pitbull’s bite. Intelligence lurked behind a steady gaze that didn’t used to miss much. I knew there was a sharp wit back there too. Not because the former Port Merritt High School wide receiver was giving me a glimpse of it as he bounded by like a gazelle, but because Byron Thorpe used to joke around with me and Rox in Mr. Ferris’s biology class.
“Hey, Byron,” I said to his backside. “No hello?”
He stopped and wiped the sweat off his brow as he turned. “Char?”
“It’s been a long time.” Plus, I had gained a few pounds, so I wasn’t shocked that he hadn’t recognized me.
His face splitting into a smile, Byron took a step toward me and then froze when Fozzie started growling.
“My protector.” I pulled Fozzie close to give him a reassuring pat. “He’ll relax in a minute. He just doesn’t know you.”
With Fozzie quieting, Byron gave me a quick hug and then backed away with a show of his palms if he needed to prove his good intent to my bodyguard. “Sorry, I’m sweaty.”
He was barely sweating, and didn’t appear the least bit winded. He just didn’t want to get within nipping range of my dog. Given his history with some of the more aggressive members of the species, completely understandable.
“What brings you to town?” I asked, giving Fozzie enough leash to let him water the base of a tree. “Some family occasion?”
“Sort of. I’m helping my parents negotiate the sale of their house.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed a for-sale sign.” Probably because Fozzie and I didn’t walk any farther south on that street than the Easley house this morning.
Byron aimed an easy smile at me. “That’s because there isn’t one. A real estate developer approached them a few weeks back and made an offer. Since I’m their financial planner, I got a call.” He looked around as if he didn’t want anyone to overhear. “And like I said, we’re in negotiation.”
The last I had heard, Byron worked for an investment firm down in San Jose, so the negotiation had to be reaching its final stages to bring him to town like a closer. “Going well, I take it.”
Crazy, Stupid, Dead Page 10
