by Misty Simon
But why wouldn’t she want him? Yes, my brother could be a little unbending sometimes, and Gina was more of a free spirit, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be perfect for each other. The more I thought about it the more I liked the idea. My mom could start bugging Gina and Jeremy about children instead of me and Max, especially since I wasn’t even sure if Max and I were going to be together forever or if the long distance of our relationship would eventually wear thin.
That was a thought for another time, though.
“Okay, we don’t have to talk about it anymore, but just know that if you really did want to be with my brother I’d be okay with that. I wouldn’t want to hear any details, of course, but I’m okay with the whole idea.” Or at least I could be if it came to it and if it made them both happy. Oh, and if no one did anything stupid so that I had to choose whom to support.
Another sigh was my only answer after my announcement. Fine then, we’d just see what happened.
“I can call and let him know you’re here if that will make you feel better.”
“No, you’re right. We’re adults and it’s fine. It’s just Greek food with friends. I’m sure it will be just fine.”
That was the second time she’d used “fine” in one breath. Hopefully I hadn’t miscalculated how easy this should be. Outright awkwardness between the two of them would put a damper on my anticipation of great food and conversation involving murder, moving, and how to get the widow to want to confide in me and hand over the books to Max. But I’d been up against worse before and I was not one to back down.
Chapter Five
The smell of spices and fried cheese filled my apartment as we all settled in for good food, and hopefully, good planning. I had limited space in my part of the third floor for entertaining, but Jeremy and Gina still managed to not be within ten feet of each other. Jeremy had taken the chair under the front window and Gina had chosen to sit at the table with Max and me. Lordy, I had hoped for better than that, but I’d just deal with it.
“So, Jeremy, I need you to help me with a job tomorrow.” I dug into the chicken, perfectly seared on its skewer, wrapped in flatbread.
“Yes, Max mentioned something about that. I’m still on vacation. And if we get the job for the recently deceased, I can’t make any promises.”
Out of sight of my older brother, I rolled my eyes at Max. “You’re not doing anything, and you know with a murder they’re going to keep the body longer. Don’t try to back out with that pitiful excuse. Plus, it would really help Gina, and we should all want to help Gina.”
Gina, who kicked me under the table, obviously felt that I was laying it on too thick.
I skipped right over that one and went on. “The widow wants the house cleaned and things removed. We can do this. As an added bonus, it will give you the perfect opportunity to offer your services, brother mine.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, which was a gesture I was very used to seeing since he often thought I had ridiculous ideas. If only he knew how it never worked.
“I can clear it with Dad to make sure he wouldn’t mind, if you’re worried about taking on outside work.” I smiled sweetly and batted my eyelashes at him.
As he continued to glare at me, it was obvious my sweet smile did nothing for him. It didn’t have to as long as he went along with my plan.
“Good Lord, Tallie. Enough. Yes, I’ll help. Don’t involve our father. I can make my own decisions. I would be happy to help with your project, especially since it will give me a chance to keep you in line.”
That was a point for him, I couldn’t deny it. Max muffled his smile by taking a bite out of his gyro. I looked to Gina for support, but she was softly smiling, too. Fine then, but I was going to be the one in charge, and Jeremy might not take kindly to that.
“Then we’ll meet here tomorrow at nine to get everything in order. I’ll talk to Dylan.”
“It’s a sound plan,” Max said. I squeezed his hand to thank him for his support.
Now for the info-gathering portion of the evening. “Has anyone heard anything more around town about enemies or reasons someone might have wanted Craig gone?”
“The Bean was buzzing with the details of what happened but no one seemed to have any new info. The rumor of my imminent arrest seems to be just that. I didn’t hear anything else significant.” Gina poked at her food.
“I haven’t heard anything,” Jeremy offered.
“I did hear something at a table in the back, but I don’t know if it means anything.” Max drummed his fingers on the table. “If Mildred from the bead shop is to be trusted, she thinks that the house-upgrading company might be in some serious trouble now that one of the owners has died. The gossip is that they might have more debt than assets, since Craig was trying to expand operations, but they didn’t have the capital to do that just yet.”
“Something to consider.” I used the notepad at my elbow to jot down the note.
“There wasn’t much else,” Gina said. “He doesn’t live in town. You know how small towns around here can be. You can cross over into another town without even knowing it, but if you’re not a part of that community, you might not know anyone who lives there.”
True enough. When the victims were a socialite and my ex-husband, who both lived here, it was easier for me to glean information. But no one knew anything about Craig. His company had a Web site that I’d checked out without much success. There wasn’t much there beyond the basics, not even bios for the two owners. And I didn’t know anyone else who knew him, so I had no one to get the gossip from.
“We’ll figure this out,” I promised Gina. “It might not be easy, but I’m in for the long haul. We’ll find out what actually happened. Hopefully before you have to spend a night in jail.”
Jeremy stiffened in his chair. “Why would she spend a night in jail?”
“She is sitting right here, Jeremy Graver, and they might put me in jail because apparently Chief Burton thinks I might have pushed Craig down the stairs and killed him myself.”
He stiffened further, and I was afraid he was approaching rigor mortis. “That’s ridiculous. You’re the gentlest person I’ve ever known. You would never hurt another person intentionally.”
“Does that mean you think I might hurt someone unintentionally?” She swiveled around in her chair to look straight at him for the first time since we’d all walked up the two flights of stairs to my apartment.
An awkward silence followed Gina’s question while Jeremy shoved a big bite of his salad into his mouth and took far too long to chew the leafy greens with balsamic vinaigrette.
“Off topic,” I said, to break the tension I could have cut with my favorite squeegee.
They could work that out later, once we got Gina off the hook for a murder that I knew in my heart she had nothing to do with. But we’d have to find out who had committed the crime before Burton felt like he had to appear to be making progress by arresting someone, anyone, and settled on Gina.
* * *
There was something to be said for being able to call in your family to help. I hadn’t yet told them I wasn’t going to pay them, but pizza from Sal’s would take away the sting, hopefully.
Uncle Sherman was the first to show up, at eight-thirty, with his big truck and a frown that told me I’d better behave myself. He might not be a big fan of the chief of police, but he was even less of a fan of me messing with police investigations that he thought had nothing to do with me. Part of me wanted to defend myself before he even opened his mouth. I wouldn’t be involved now if it weren’t for Gina’s neck on the line. But the other part of me shushed that first part. If I didn’t speak it, then he couldn’t rebut it.
I simply smiled at him and told him everyone else would be along shortly.
Gina took a few minutes to come across the street with cups of coffee and breakfast items.
“Thanks, but we’re going to have to eat these here before we go to Michelle’s or she’s not going to be happy
seeing your logo.” I accepted my cup and drank. Perfect temperature, perfect sugar, perfect taste to start my morning off right.
“Got it.” Gina laid out the rest of the food. “I wish I could come with you, but if you think she’d be upset just seeing the logo of the place she hates, she’d be furious to see my face. So, instead, I’m going to close for today at ten. Laura called in sick and I just don’t have the mental stamina to serve people today. I’ll try to do some more research for you. I’m also going to pull together the e-mails and texts I exchanged with Craig to see if there’s anything she could think she has on me. I might not have remembered something significant in my excitement over what I thought was a shiny new Mr. Right.”
And there was my girl, thinking and researching. We’d get through this as long as Burton remained at a distance. I was a little surprised that he hadn’t arrested her yet since it had seemed like a sure thing yesterday from the talk in the coffeehouse. At this point, though, I certainly wasn’t going to alert him to the fact that he was slacking when it involved my best friend.
“I think that’s a good idea,” I said. “Where’s Mama Shirley going to be?” It was important to know where all my players were in case something happened.
“She’s at home with the ladies from the knitting club. They have some sort of all-day event to make hats for cancer patients.”
“First, that is awesome, and second, that is a good thing because I don’t want her anywhere near us, either, and I don’t want her interfering. Have you talked to Laura?”
“No, not yet,” Gina replied. “I called her cell but she didn’t answer. So I called the house where she rents a room from Mrs. Farrell, on Marble Street. Apparently the poor thing has been down for the count with some kind of headache and hasn’t come out of her room for hours.”
“We’ll try again later, or buzz by the house after we get the cleaning done.” I did want to talk to Laura. She had delivered that cup of coffee to Craig from another patron. Had that been the thing that poisoned him? I put it on my mental list of things to ask.
Jeremy pulled up in his sedan. When he emerged from the shiny black car, he and Gina nodded to each other. It was an improvement over the awkwardness of yesterday, but better left alone at this point. I had things to do and people to do them with.
* * *
Once we pulled up to the average-sized, two-story house on Front Street, I really wasn’t sure if everyone I had with me was going to fit in the place. Perhaps I had overestimated the number of things the widow wanted moved.
I trotted up to the door anyway, because I’d made a promise, and if people had to come and go as necessary, we’d make it work. Michelle, in full-on black, answered the door and then dramatically leaned against it. All that was missing was the back of her hand on her forehead, which she promptly did.
I rearranged my thinking. With the call yesterday, I thought perhaps she had moved from sadness to anger and that’s why she had wanted everything moved out. That maybe she had finally figured out that Craig and his womanizing ways were not worth her tears.
But this was not the same woman I had talked to on the phone. This one looked like she was going for a movie part.
“Thank you so much for coming out, Tallie. I can’t begin to tell you how grueling this has been.” She took my hand in both of hers and squeezed it, then tucked it against her cheek.
It took everything I had to not pull away. Either she was pretending I hadn’t seen her at her worst, or she really had no idea who I was. I was going with the last one since she tugged me into the house and immediately began talking about everything.
“So I’m thinking about changing all this. The couches look like some leftover frat house throwaways and the decor is very man cave, in my opinion. I want airy and open and light pastels. I’m thinking that I should get it all done now so that I can be ready for my new life. I’ve been stuck in a rut for what feels like forever. Now I can finally breathe fresh air, and I’m thinking it’s time to shui my feng.” She laughed and hugged me.
Not a trace of sadness or the madness from yesterday when she was demanding Gina’s head on a platter.
“We can help as much as you need,” I assured her.
“Wonderful.” She pulled me close again even as I was trying to escape. “And I have my eye on this perfect little shop across the river. It has a ridiculous name but the best coffee in the whole area. I’m thinking the owner might be running into some trouble, so I should be able to pick it up at a steal. I’ll talk her into giving me her suppliers’ names. I can rename the place, and it will soar as it never has before under her inept management!”
Jeremy came up behind me at that. It wasn’t easy, but I restrained him without making it look like I was doing so. Obviously, she was talking about Gina’s shop. For what? Did she really believe Gina had killed Craig, or did she just see an incredible opportunity to blame Gina, and so be able to get her hands on the shop she coveted? She used to measure for furniture whenever she came in for a cup of coffee.
Thank God, I had made Gina stay away. I would have to make it a point to tell anyone who had heard this conversation not to mention it to her, as it might send her over the edge. All it did for me was to more firmly entrench me in the need to absolutely, without a doubt, prove who had killed Craig before they got away with it.
This, of course, gave me a new angle and moved Michelle from possible suspect to most likely suspect on my list. If she’d found her husband at the Bean, then what would have stopped her from following him when he went to sneak into Gina’s house?
Michelle continued to talk and I listened—even though her voice was grating on my nerves—just so I wouldn’t miss anything. There was really nothing to miss. She talked about more colors, and more furniture, and gave me the places where she was shopping, and the things she’d like to pick up, and what pictures she wanted hanging on the walls.
All pretty standard stuff, although I would have to admit that she had an eye for details and simple touches that could make the place shine. Why hadn’t she done this when Craig was alive? Had he kept her from sharing her vision? Or had he just never listened, preferring to have things his way? And why would a man who redesigned homes for a living make his home so blah?
I checked out her digs and found it to be modest. Although on second thought, it wasn’t nearly as small on the inside as it appeared to be on the outside. This was doable. And I was very happy we had brought Uncle Sherman’s truck. A couple of trips to the dump, maybe a few more to the consignment shop, and we’d be done. I could knock out the cleaning of this place in two hours tops while the guys did the hauling and the running. I wished Letty was here to help, but her mom was sick, and I understood the need to be near family.
I still had hope that while I cleaned I could get this lady talking about something besides the new duvet she’d like on her bed and whether or not she should get a pillow-top mattress since she’d never been allowed to have one.
I waited for her to take a breath when talking about the organic food she was going to buy to start trying out recipes before she took over the coffeehouse she’d been dreaming of for years.
Finally, she drew in a breath, and I jumped into the miniscule space before she got rolling again. “I’m going to get the guys started if you can point us in the right direction, and then I’ll be back to clean.”
“Of course. I’m not paying them to stand around and talk to me, am I?”
That’s exactly what I wanted her to do, so I forced myself to pat her arm. “It’s all part of the job, and I have a wonderful crew today. Talk all you need to. I just want to make sure we’re rolling along while we chat.”
“Okay, empty the living room except for the electronics and then we’ll move to the dining room.”
I directed Jeremy, Dylan, Uncle Sherman, and Max to do just that, then followed along behind Michelle as she moved into the next room. It was filled to the brim with furniture lining every wall. I didn’t even know wher
e to start looking first. A server sat next to a china hutch, which sat next to a sideboard flanked by two needlepoint chairs. A café table resided in the corner, all white wrought iron and curling ivy, while a huge dining room set from the seventies took up the rest of the room. I barely had enough space to wedge myself around the table on any of the four sides. Thank God I’d worn my rattier jeans just in case I got hung up on something.
“This all has to go except the adorable white set. Isn’t it cute?” She lovingly ran her hands over the curlicue back.
“Absolutely.”
She smiled and nodded as if I’d answered the million-dollar question right. “It’s a model for how I want to redo the inside of the coffeehouse once it’s mine.”
I nearly choked. Gina would have a fit if this woman tried to turn her homey café into a mini bistro. Who was I trying to kid? Gina would have a fit if the woman even approached her at this point at all. I couldn’t think of a way to tell Michelle to let go of her dream without announcing the fact that I knew Gina, so as frustrating as it was, I had to keep my mouth shut.
“So, a lot of changes for you in the new future. Did you take a class or something on changing your life and just decide to do it all at once?”
A soft, breathy laugh answered my question. “Oh, girl, you have no idea. Things are changing here because I want them to. I’ve held on for too long to things that no longer serve me.”
“Interesting. Breakup?”
“Death, actually. And I need to move on, or I’ll be mired in grief. I can’t afford that—you understand.”
“Ah.” I didn’t know whether to offer my father’s services, but Jeremy beat me to the punch.
“I own a funeral parlor if you need help making final resting plans, Mrs. Johnson. I understand it can be hard to face all these decisions at once.”
