“Hello!”
“Dana, hi. Are you busy?”
“Never too busy for you.” I didn’t mention that I was standing around waiting for imaginary guests. He might not be as impressed with my answer.
“Great. Are you free for dinner tonight? My parents are leaving town tomorrow and wanted to see you again before they go.”
My stomach plummeted to my toes. “Dinner? Did you say ‘dinner’?”
“Yeah, that meal that follows lunch.”
“With your parents?”
“Right.”
Really, I had no legitimate reason not to agree, except I was a bigger chicken than Berta.
“Dana?” Jason asked.
I told myself to get a grip. It was dinner with two very nice people, not a couple of serial killers. “I would be delighted.”
“Glad to hear it. Let’s meet at Table for Two at six. I’ll need to come straight from work, or else I’d pick you up.”
“That’s fine. I’ll see you then,” I said, and hung up. At least I had the afternoon off. If I survived furniture shopping with Ashlee, I could use the extra time to figure out what to wear. My work clothes weren’t going to cut it.
Zennia appeared from the direction of the kitchen, fresh spots on her apron from the ripe peaches. “All finished. Now that my prep work is done, I am once more feeling centered. Thanks for watching the desk.”
Maybe I could use some of Zennia’s techniques to center myself before tonight. I tapped the keyboard. “Our guest arrived. I put him in cabin nine.”
“Great. Gordon should be back soon. I can take over until then in case we get any drop-ins.” She pulled her apron over her head and wadded it up to place on a shelf below the counter.
“I’ll be in the office.” I walked down the hall to post the day’s blog, not happy that it was a few hours later than normal. I wondered if anyone would appreciate that the topic was all about avoiding tardiness.
I spent the rest of the morning doing odd jobs around the farm: skimming the muck from the pool, skimming the muck from the hot springs, and cleaning the muck from the pigsty. Life didn’t get much more glamorous. I stowed the equipment in the toolshed, washed my hands at the outside faucet, and said my good-byes to Zennia and Gordon, who had returned from his errands.
Once in the loaner car, I used the drive to give myself a pep talk about shopping with Ashlee. I decided to squash any thoughts of my dinner with Jason’s parents, for fear I might drive off the road in a panic.
At home, I took a quick shower, then threw together a chicken sandwich. I was finishing the last bite when Ashlee waltzed through the door. Even though she wore a standard vet smock to work, she still managed to look fashionable with her tousled hair, which probably took an hour to style, and her carefully applied makeup.
“Did you want to eat lunch before we get started?” I asked.
“I’ll grab something on my way back to work.” She clutched my hand and pulled me to my feet. “Let’s get shopping.”
After having already suffered through the car ride to the apartment complex, I immediately walked to my rental car. “I’m taking the wheel.”
Ashlee pouted. “I only have an hour for lunch. We don’t have time for your turtle driving.”
“Pipe down and get in,” I said, yanking open my door.
Ashlee paused near one headlight. “Whose car is this?”
I still hadn’t planned what to tell people, but an abbreviated version of the truth seemed easiest. “I got a bunch of scratches on my hood and decided to get it painted.”
“Those must have been some major scratches. When did it happen?”
I put one foot on the floorboard, eager to end the conversation. “Yesterday. At least that’s when I noticed them.” I got in.
“Huh.” She walked over to the passenger side and climbed inside.
As Ashlee buckled herself in, I got in my side and gunned it out of the driveway, just to show her I was a better driver than she gave me credit for, never mind that I bounced off the curb on my way. She did that herself all the time.
I motored through town and pulled up to Have a Seat. It was essentially the one furniture store in Blossom Valley, which is why the guy jacked up the prices a good ten percent. I was already grumbling under my breath about how unfair that was before I’d even stepped into the store. As I swung the door open, the smell of leather and furniture polish greeted us. The store consisted of one giant room, with bedroom furniture on the left, dining-room tables in the middle, living-room fixings on the right.
Ashlee darted to the right before the door had even closed behind us, and I trailed after her, running my hand along a suede couch until I hit the armrest, where a bright-colored tag announced this beauty could be mine for a mere two thousand dollars. I yanked my hand back. On to the good old-fashioned stiff-and-scratchy couches.
While I’d been admiring the suede couch, Ashlee had plopped herself on a plush-looking sofa, where one end served as a recliner. As I approached, she pulled the handle to lift the footstool and settled into the cushion.
“We should get this one.”
I flipped the tag over to read the price. “Way out of the budget. We need something for less than a grand.”
Ashlee closed the footstool. “Dana, nothing in here is that cheap. We need to find something comfortable but sexy.”
“Stop worrying about ‘sexy’ and start worrying about what we can afford.”
Ashlee waved her hand. “We can charge it.”
I planted my hands on my hips, feeling more like a mother than a sister. “I’m not spending the next five years paying off some couch for your little love nest. Besides, these prices are outrageous. Maybe we should stop by a Goodwill store.”
Ashlee stared at me, horrified. “But all their stuff has cooties,” she whispered.
“It does not. Now, look, we stick to a budget or the deal’s off.”
Ashlee stuck her tongue out at me. “Fine, you win. We’ll keep looking.” It wasn’t often that Ashlee conceded defeat. I almost did a victory dance right there in the sofa aisle.
We spent the next half hour wandering through the store. Ashlee pointed out every overpriced piece of furniture in the place, while I shook my head and reminded her again and again about our budget. We eventually settled on some mid-priced items to keep in mind for when we signed a lease on a place. By the time we left the store, I was more exhausted than if I’d cleaned out Wilbur’s pigpen ten times in a row. How did my sister wear me out so fast?
In the parking lot, I pulled out my keys, glancing around as I neared my car. Across the lot, Drew stood by a Ford Focus, the rear passenger-side tire flatter than the cushion on one of the discount couches in the clearance section. Why was she here instead of working at Invisible Prints right now?
I turned to Ashlee. “Hang on a second. I know that girl. Let me see if she needs any help.”
“Make it snappy. My lunch hour’s almost up.” Ashlee whipped out her iPhone. “I’ll pin photos of the furniture on Pinterest. See what my friends say.”
I hoped her friends didn’t say the furniture looked cheap and that she needed to get the sectional sofa with the double recliner and side panel that housed a refrigerator. We’d both have to sleep on the thing, since we wouldn’t be able to afford beds.
As I walked over to Drew and her car, a cool wind blew across the pavement and made me shiver. Drew must be freezing in her T-shirt and pajama pants. I could see the bottom of the panther tattoo peeking out below her cap sleeve.
Up close, I started to doubt that this was Drew after all, even with the tattoo. Did she have an older sister? She’d aged a good five years since my last visit to Invisible Prints. Her spiky hair drooped and her puffy eyes were sunken in her pale face.
“Drew?” I asked, just to make sure.
She’d clearly been wrapped up in her own thoughts as she stood by her car, but now she blinked twice and focused on me. “Oh, hi. Sorry, I forgot your name.”
“Dana Lewis.” I pointed to her flat tire. “Need me to call anyone?”
She showed me her automobile membership card. “I’m waiting for a tow truck, thanks.” She glanced at the tire, and tears appeared in her eyes. “One more thing that’s gone wrong.”
I never knew what to do when people who were practically strangers started crying. Heck, I didn’t know what to do when longtime friends started crying. “Well, I’m sure George over at Spinning Your Wheels can fix your tire. You’ll be on your way soon enough.”
“On my way where?” She let out a sob, and I put a hand to my temple. Guess I’d picked the wrong thing to say. “Helen told me not to come to work until this whole mess with Wendy gets cleared up. She thinks the place will be shut down. Without a job, I can’t afford rent. Now I have to pay for a new tire on top of everything else.” She kicked the flat tire for good measure, not that it could get any flatter.
“Maybe Wendy didn’t embezzle any money,” I said. “Maybe she put it in a special bank account that no one’s found yet.”
Drew sniffled. “That would be a neat trick. But the money’s gone. Like Wendy.” Tears trickled down her cheeks. I’d been hoping she was all done crying, but apparently not.
“It’s a terrible shock, all of it,” I said.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen. I keep thinking about how different it should have turned out.”
“What do you mean?” I wasn’t sure if she was talking about Wendy’s death or the state of the company.
Drew swiped at the tears. “It’s just that . . .” The rumble of a tow truck interrupted her sentence. Her words trailed away as she watched its slow approach across the pavement.
“It’s just what?” I asked, trying to bring her back to the conversation.
She continued to look at the truck. “I’d better go talk to the driver. Show him my card.”
I watched her walk away. My insides were a bundle of loops and knots. Drew definitely knew something, but with her car and job troubles, she wouldn’t be sharing the info with me. At least not today.
I walked back to where I’d parked the car. Ashlee leaned against the hood, thumbs flying as she texted. I slid into the driver’s seat. When Ashlee didn’t move, I hit the horn. She jumped off the hood, glared at me, and got into the passenger side.
“God, Dana, you’re so rude.”
“Sorry, I thought you heard me get in the car.”
“I was too busy asking Brittany what she thought of that sofa. She agrees we should go with something more pink.”
“No pink.”
“But the brown’s so boring.”
She says it’s “boring”; I say it’s “easy to coordinate.”
“You can add pink pillows. How’s that?”
She sighed. “Fine. But we still need to decide what we want to hang on the walls, and where we’re going to get dishes.”
I didn’t remember living on my own being this expensive. Then again, my salary had been about three times higher. “We’ll figure it out later.”
Right now, I needed to decide what to wear tonight. I had a date with my boyfriend’s parents.
At three minutes to six, I pulled into the Table for Two parking lot, feeling slightly uncomfortable in my knee-length skirt and tights, topped off with a sweater. I scanned the rest of the lot and spotted Jason’s parents by the entrance. Where was Jason? Parking the car? Reserving a table with the hostess? Maybe I’d sit right here for a minute until I saw him.
Stop it, Dana. You’re a grown woman. You can make small talk with two people for a few seconds. You did it all the time down in San Jose. Think of them as a couple of Silicon Valley clients.
Exhaling slowly, I opened the car door. I reached back for my purse, checked my reflection one last time in the rearview mirror, and then shut and locked the door. I’d moved as slowly as possible, and yet, still no sign of Jason. Great.
I stiffened my spine, figuratively and literally, and marched across the parking lot. Jason’s dad saw me coming and nodded in my direction. His mom turned to watch my approach, and that made me stand up even straighter.
Mrs. Forrester held out a hand. “Dana, I’m so glad you could make it. I was worried you might cancel, once you found out Jason wouldn’t be here.”
My smile froze along with the rest of my body. “Jason’s not coming?” I squeezed out as my brain told my hand to rise up and shake Mrs. Forrester’s.
“Didn’t he call you? Oh, dear, he was in an awful hurry. Called away on a big news story, though he couldn’t give us any specifics.”
Jason wasn’t coming. At all. For the entire meal. With his parents. I took a deep breath to steady my nerves and reminded myself that if I was mature enough to move into my own place—even if Ashlee would be there, too—then I was mature enough to eat dinner with my boyfriend’s parents all by my little lonesome. “Well, we’ll have to order him something to-go when we’re finished,” I said.
“Splendid,” Mr. Forrester said, the first word he’d uttered. He opened the door, and Mrs. Forrester and I entered the restaurant, my appetite shrinking by the second. At this rate, I’d be ordering a cup of soup. Or nibbling on the contents of the bread basket.
The hostess seated us at the same table where Jason and I had eaten earlier in the week, but there was nothing romantic about this situation. Mrs. Forrester pulled her napkin from under her silverware and placed it in her lap, and I followed suit. She sipped her ice water. I sipped my ice water.
We couldn’t play Simon Says all night, so I cleared my throat. “How are you enjoying your visit?”
“It’s been lovely,” Mrs. Forrester said. “Of course, Jason’s been so busy with this murder that we haven’t seen as much of him as I’d prefer, but I know his work is important to him.”
“He’s extremely dedicated,” I agreed. “Being lead reporter is a huge responsibility.”
Mr. Forrester reached over and squeezed his wife’s hand. “That’s why we’re so proud of him.”
I’d have to pass this on to Jason, let him know his parents approved of his profession after all.
“You’d have to be awful committed to pass up dinner with a girl as lovely as yourself,” he added.
I felt my face grow warm. Must be sitting too close to the fireplace.
“I have to confess,” Mrs. Forrester said, “I was hoping Jason would become a doctor like his brother, but sometimes parents have to readjust their vision of their children’s lives.”
Mom had probably made the same adjustment when I’d moved back home.
“And seeing how happy he is,” she said. “I believe he made the right decision.”
The waiter arrived to take our orders. Though my full appetite hadn’t yet returned, I found myself requesting the fish special. As soon as Jason’s parents ordered and the waiter departed, Mrs. Forrester said, “Tell me more about your job at the spa.”
“Between collecting chicken eggs, helping with the meals, and covering the marketing side of the business, Esther, the owner, keeps me pretty busy.”
“Sounds fun,” Mr. Forrester said neutrally.
What did he mean by “fun”? Did my job sound frivolous? “I’m looking to establish a more serious marketing career,” I said.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” he said. “Nothing wrong with having a job you enjoy. Our daughter-in-law is a top-notch lawyer—”
The waiter brought our drinks, interrupting Mr. Forrester.
A lawyer? And not just a run-of-the-mill lawyer, but a really good one. How can I compete against that?
“Her parents must be quite proud,” I said.
“Sure, but she hates it.”
“Really?” I asked. Who could hate the stature and money that came with being a successful lawyer?
“She works constantly, including weekends,” Mr. Forrester said. “Travels all the time. Barely gets to see her husband. That’s Jason’s brother. But she owes a fortune in student loans and has built such a solid reputati
on in the industry that she feels she can’t quit now.”
Mrs. Forrester dabbed at her lips with her napkin. “Poor dear is worn-out all the time. I don’t know how she does it.”
Maybe working at the farm wasn’t so bad after all. At least I had time to enjoy the rest of my life.
The conversation moved on to new topics, and our entrees arrived a short time later. As dinner progressed, I found myself more at ease with Jason’s parents, even managing to eat the entire platter of grilled trout and mashed potatoes. They really were wonderful people, and I wondered why Jason didn’t visit them more. By the time we said our good-nights, I felt like I’d known them for years. I drove home with my heart as warm and fuzzy as a baby duckling.
As soon as I got inside the house, I slipped into my room to call Jason and tell him about the evening. His phone rang three, then four times, and I started to suspect he’d turned off the ringer to focus on whatever story had kept him from joining us for dinner.
I was about to hang up, when he came on the line. “Dana, what’s up?” His tone was curt and business-like. Definitely still working on the story.
“Your mom mentioned you were working, but I wanted to let you know that dinner went great. I really enjoyed talking with your parents.”
His voice warmed considerably. “I knew you guys would hit it off. I’d love to hear about it, but not right now.”
Curiosity got the better of me. “Can you give me a little hint as to what big story you’re working on?”
“Of course. It won’t be a secret much longer anyway.” He paused. “It’s Preston. Someone killed him.”
25
I pulled the phone away from my ear to check the reception, though I knew I’d heard Jason correctly. “Preston’s dead? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’ve been working nonstop since I found out. I haven’t even had dinner yet.”
The way the food in my stomach was flip-flopping right now, I kind of wish I’d missed my fish and potatoes. “What happened?”
Green Living Can Be Deadly (A Blossom Valley Mystery) Page 17
