“I have to go to bed early tonight,” Nancy said. “I don’t want to miss the bus to Benson tomorrow.”
“Is that tomorrow?” Lilliana asked. Once a month, the retirement community sent a bus into the nearby town of Benson. Its primary destination was the Walmart, but it was also an opportunity to have lunch out at a restaurant other than Cathy’s Café, or stop in a bank if you needed to cash a check, or mail a package from the post office. Lilliana thought she could use some underthings. While not of the best quality, at least they’d be new. If she didn’t go tomorrow, she’d have to wait a whole month. But what about her mission?
“Lilliana, how could you forget? It’s one of the highlights of the week when we get to go to Walmart,” Nancy said.
Yes, how could she forget? That was the question. Not for the first time, Lilliana worried that she might have something more serious than simple forgetfulness. After seeing Charles’ decline, one of her worst fears was losing her mind. So many of the elderly had dementia. “I’m glad you reminded me. I did want to go this month.”
“Good. That’s settled, then. I’ll see you on the bus tomorrow,” Nancy said.
CHAPTER THREE
THE sun was barely peeking over the horizon when Lilliana took her cup of Earl Grey out on the patio to enjoy the morning. Enjoy might have been too strong a word. Even at six o’clock, the temperature hovered in the eighties, promising another day when it would soar past the century mark. But at least it was tolerable, and Lilliana did get tired of the conditioned air one breathed everywhere in Arizona until the middle of October.
She closed her eyes, wrapped her hands around her mug of tea, and leaned back in her chair. She longed for monsoon season which, while not actually cool, would provide periods of brief relief from the unrelenting sun.
Zzzzt.
What was that?
Zzzzt.
Lilliana waved her hand around her face, thinking to chase away whatever insect had decided to disturb her morning calm.
Zzzzt.
Bother! Forced to open her eyes and track down the pest, Lilliana raised her head and searched the air around her. She saw nothing. Just as she was about to give up on a peaceful morning on her patio and go inside, she noticed something fluttering among the penstemons planted around the edges of her patio. She leaned forward to get a better view, then had to jerk back, spilling tea all over her clothes in the process, as the creature darted out in front of her.
“About time you noticed me,” a voice tinkled peevishly as Lilliana patted at her slacks.
Uaine, one of the flower fairies, a lovely little sprite all in pale green from the tips of her toes to the dainty wings on her back, to the long hair that grew on her head, hovered in front of her. Lilliana was overcome with guilt. She knew she should have gone to visit the fairies before this.
Rainbow Ranch had two secrets: a magnificent live cave rivaling Kartchner Caverns, and the fairy troop that lived inside it. The original discoverer of both had died to protect those secrets, leaving only Lilliana and Jaclyn to keep them.
“Why, hello,” Lilliana said.
The fairy perched on her knee, a good distance from the damp spot, legs crossed, and smoothed down the handkerchief hem of her gauze skirt. “I am Uaine, a messenger from Esmeralda.”
“I remember you, Uaine. What brings you to me this morning?”
“Esmeralda was worried. You haven’t been to visit us in a very long time. She wondered if you were ill.”
“No, not ill,” Lilliana admitted. “I’m sorry I haven’t come to visit.” She paused, trying to formulate the reason why. She wasn’t exactly sure herself. Sometimes she wondered if the fairies were a figment of her imagination. She’d always been a no-nonsense kind of person, and the idea of the mythical creatures being real amazed her. It wasn’t as if she could ask anyone else if they believed in fairies. Except Jaclyn, but it wasn’t the kind of topic you discussed in public, and she hadn’t seen the shopkeeper other than in the store in a very long time. Talking about fairies could lead one to be put in the category of dotty old women, of whom there were certainly plenty at the retirement community. That could lead to being watched, and her activities restricted, which certainly wasn’t something Lilliana wanted.
She was also concerned others might notice her trips to the cave. Although well-hidden by the small size of the entrance and a glamour the fairies usually covered it with, hiking off into the mountains wasn’t a usual activity for the elderly. While most weren’t physically capable of following her, they might take note of her trips and mention them to the staff. That wouldn’t do at all.
“Well?” Uaine rose and tapped her foot with impatience. Lilliana had to resist the urge to scratch her knee.
“I promise I’ll come tomorrow morning.”
“Not now?” the fairy asked.
Lilliana shook her head. “I’m sorry. I have a prior commitment this morning. But there’s something I need to speak with Esmeralda about, so I’ll be sure to come tomorrow.”
The fairy fluttered her wings and rose a few inches above Lilliana’s knee. “All right then. Don’t forget. Queen Esmeralda will be expecting you.”
“I’ll be there.”
The fairy flew off toward the desert, and Lilliana hoped none of the other residents would notice the creature. As she turned to go inside and change into fresh clothes, she saw Mary hobbling along the path from the swimming pool toward the back entrance. She had probably been at the water aerobics class. Given the pace at which Mary was able to get around, Lilliana wondered how long she’d been able to see Lilliana’s patio. And whether she’d seen the fairy.
A short time later Lilliana climbed into the van carrying her purse and a cloth shopping bag. Sarah and Bob Higgins were already seated, as was Pieter Joncker, another member of the African Violet Club. Pieter was a portly widower who had come to Arizona from Wisconsin to retire. Like herself, he was mourning the death of a spouse, or so she’d been told, and kept mostly to himself. He’d won third place at the spring show, but Lilliana didn’t know much more than that about him.
As Lilliana tried to decide where to sit, she noticed one more person, seated in the last row of the van—the handsome new resident Nancy had pointed out last night. Lilliana’s heartbeat stuttered as he smiled at her, and his eyes met hers for an instant. They were dark blue and deep. She quickly unlocked her eyes from his gaze and settled in the seat she stood next to, one behind the middle row, opposite Pieter.
Harlan Taft, a rather unlikeable fellow filled with prejudice and nasty remarks, mounted the steps of the van and picked out a seat in the first row. Before sitting in it, he held up a camera in hands that trembled from Parkinson’s and snapped a picture. Probably more fodder for his What’s Up Rainbow Ranch Facebook page. Lilliana wasn’t sure she liked her picture all over Facebook.
Raul, the new handyman and van chauffeur, backed up the steps with his hand outstretched to help Mary board. She leaned heavily on the railing on the door, then shuffled a couple of steps until she landed heavily next to Harlan, who grimaced. At least he had enough manners not to complain about Mary’s choice of seat.
Raul settled himself in the driver’s seat and had just reached over to close the door when Rebecca’s head appeared and her hand grasped the railing. The woman was out of breath, indicating she’d hurried, maybe even run—if she could run—and smiled as she reached the top step. “Made it!” she announced triumphantly as she paused to catch her breath.
“Please take a seat, señora,” Raul said.
Rebecca nodded, then made her way to Lilliana’s row. “Mind if I join you?” she asked.
“Not at all.”
Rebecca slid in beside her and settled herself as Raul shifted the van into gear. The van pulled out onto Main Street and headed south toward I-10. “I would have sat next to that handsome man in the back if I wasn’t running so late. That’ll teach me to get ready earlier. I thought Raul would wait longer.”
Rebecca seemed
a little old for the stranger, but old wasn’t the same as dead. Lilliana imagined you were never too old to be attracted to a man. Not that she was speaking for herself.
“The van usually leaves right on time,” she said, deciding to ignore the preoccupation with whatever-his-name-was. It didn’t work.
“I wonder why such a fine specimen is living in an old folks home. He doesn’t appear to need any assisted living. Of course, if he does need a certain kind of assistance, I’d be happy to oblige.” Rebecca leered.
Lilliana tried not to sigh and made another attempt to change the topic. Remembering last night’s conversation, she asked, “Did you originally come from Connecticut?”
“Me?” Rebecca looked surprised. “No, I grew up in Sierra Vista. My father was in the Army, stationed at Fort Huachuca. Phillip is the one who lives in Connecticut. He took up with an Eastern girl when he went to college. Yale,” she said proudly, before her face saddened.
Deducing Phillip was her son’s name, Lilliana said, “It must be hard having him so far away.”
“Sometimes.” Rebecca grew quiet.
Lilliana hadn’t chosen a good subject to talk about. Not only had she reminded Rebecca of how far away her son was, she stirred up memories of her own daughter. Anne was farther away than Connecticut. Or closer, depending on how you looked at it. She was either in a cemetery in Tucson, or in Heaven. Lilliana preferred to think of her as being in Heaven. Certainly, after all she’d suffered, she was entitled to an eternal reward.
Lost in her own thoughts, Lilliana didn’t realize they’d reached their destination. Raul pulled up in front of the Walmart entrance and opened the door to the van. “For those who want to do some shopping here, I’ll be back in three hours to pick you up. There are some nice restaurants on Fourth Street if you’d like an early lunch, but make sure to be standing in front of the store at noon. I’ll be continuing on to the Visitor Center for those who would prefer other activities while we’re here.”
“What if we don’t want to eat in a restaurant?” Sarah Higgins asked, her face scrunched up with worry.
Raul smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll have you back before the dining room closes if you want to eat lunch at Rainbow Ranch.”
Sarah’s frown disappeared. Poor Sarah. Lilliana knew she and Bob didn’t have much money. She hoped she’d never come to a time when eating lunch out once in a while would be a hardship.
Lilliana rose to her feet, as did most of the occupants. Walmart was the primary destination for the seniors, both because of the prices and the fact that it had the best variety of any store in town. She was hoping the retirement community would have another trip to Park Place Mall in Tucson soon. She really didn’t like shopping in Walmart.
Raul got out first so he could assist those who couldn’t make it down the steps without aid. He held out his hand to Mary. It took a few minutes for the slower residents to exit the van, and Lilliana tried to be patient. At last she reached the front, following Rebecca down the aisle. As she turned to descend to the street, she saw Nancy reluctantly rising to her feet and casting a wistful glance at the handsome newcomer, who apparently was going on to the Visitor Center.
Mary was waiting for her at the bottom of the steps.
“I didn’t think you shopped at Walmart,” Mary said, pushing her walker ahead of her toward the front door.
“I don’t,” Lilliana said. “But they don’t seem to be going to Tucson any time soon, and I have a few things I need to pick up that I can’t get in Rainbow Ranch.” She walked slower than she usually did so Mary wouldn’t have to hurry to catch up.
“I saw you this morning.”
Lilliana’s chest tightened with concern. Why did Mary feel the need to mention that?
“It looked like you were talking to yourself.” Mary giggled. “I do that all the time, but I didn’t think you did. Sometimes I think I’m the only one who listens to me.”
Lilliana stopped and focused her attention on Mary. “I listen to you.”
“Did you listen to yourself this morning?” Mary persisted.
Rather than deny the fact that she was talking to herself, Lilliana said, “Of course. I wanted to remember what I need to buy today, plus the other things I have to do after we get back. Usually I write things down. I like making lists. It keeps things tidy. But I hadn’t thought to bring paper or pencil with me when I went outside to drink my morning tea, so I was saying the items out loud.”
Mary nodded as if that made perfect sense to her, and Lilliana breathed more easily. They reached the door, and she held it open so Mary could push her walker through. Once inside, Lilliana studied the overhead signs, while Mary headed straight for the grocery section. Finding the department she wanted, Lilliana headed toward it to choose some new underthings.
It didn’t take her long to make her selections, and soon after Lilliana took the plastic bag from the cashier and put it inside her shopping bag. She walked out the door and stopped. What was she going to do for the two-and-a-half hours until the van returned to the retirement community?
CHAPTER FOUR
SINCE it was still relatively early in the day, the summer heat wasn’t overly oppressive. Perhaps she’d walk down the street to the Visitor Center and explore the town on her way.
West Fourth Street turned out to be less intriguing than she’d expected. Unlike the village of Rainbow Ranch, where all the shops were clustered together on two blocks, what she’d assumed was the main street of Benson had plenty of empty space between establishments. It also had plenty of traffic, making her wonder if the primary activity in the town consisted of getting out of it.
That wasn’t a very kind thought, she chided herself. But she had grown accustomed to the friendly small town atmosphere of Rainbow Ranch.
As promised by Raul, it didn’t take too long for her to reach a series of restaurants: a steakhouse, two featuring Mexican food, a family style restaurant. Breakfast was only a few hours in the past, and it was much too early for lunch. With Lilliana’s usual lack of interest in food, the restaurants held no attraction for her.
Next was a strip mall with the usual complement of stores: Starbucks, Ace Hardware, Dollar General. Lilliana was beginning to wonder if the walk had been such a good idea after all. Blaring automobile horns made her jump. Up ahead, two vehicles vied for the same parking space.
Small houses, some of which had been turned into businesses, lined the road. A used book store in one of the former residences looked interesting, but when Lilliana tried to open the door, it was locked. She peered in a window, but the store was dark and showed no signs of opening soon.
A tractor-trailer roared by on the road to her left. Not exactly the kind of peaceful stroll Lilliana had envisioned when she started her walk. When an Amtrak train trumpeting its horn rumbled by on the tracks on the other side of the street, Lilliana decided to duck down a side street in search of some peace and quiet.
While she could still hear the traffic and the trains, Fifth Street did prove to be slightly quieter. Like Fourth Street, a mixture of older small homes and businesses lined the street. She had no interest in the coin-operated laundry or the thrift store or the building supply. Lilliana sighed. Sometimes when you went exploring, you found nothing. This appeared to be one of those times. She should have gone into one of the restaurants, ordered a glass of iced tea, and read a book. She always carried a book, just in case.
She’d continue on her way until she reached the next cross street, then head back toward Fourth Street and look for the Visitor Center. She’d get there early, but surely the Visitor Center would have a chair or a bench where she could sit down and read.
When she reached the intersection, however, what looked like just another house had a sign over the door that read “Wonders of the West Art Gallery.” A slate board propped by the door had the words “Gallery Open” and “Paintings of Stephen Henderson” written on it in chalk. Just the thing, she thought.
A bell tinkled as she ente
red, and a middle-aged woman looked up from behind a counter to the left of the door. She’d been arranging pieces of copper and silver jewelry in the display case. “Welcome to Wonders of the West,” she said. “Have you been here before?”
Lilliana shook her head. “This is my first visit.”
“Glad to have you.” She handed Lilliana a sheet of paper that had been printed on an ink jet printer. “We have two galleries. This one has some of our smaller items. If you go through the archway over there”—she waved toward the opposite side of the room—“you’ll see the larger paintings. We’re featuring the well-known artist Stephen Henderson this month.”
“Thank you. I’ll look around.” She hadn’t heard of Stephen Henderson, but then she didn’t know many local artists in this part of Arizona. When she’d lived in Tucson, she’d often stopped in the galleries near the university or up in the Catalina Foothills to browse.
“If you have any questions, just ask.”
Lilliana took her time browsing through the first gallery, but it didn’t take her more than ten minutes to see everything in it. There were some de Grazia prints and some small drawings and oil paintings by what she assumed were local artists. She passed through the arch to see if the featured exhibit held anything of interest.
And almost ran into the handsome new resident of the Rainbow Ranch Retirement Community.
“Pardon me,” he said, rolling the r in a softer version of the accent the Camerons used. There appeared to be a Scottish invasion occurring in southern Arizona.
Lilliana untied her tongue enough to say, “Sorry” and went to pass by him for a look at the paintings.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said. His voice was a rich baritone. “I’m Christopher MacAlistair.”
“Lilliana Wentworth.” She paused. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too. Do enjoy the paintings.”
“I will.” Could she not put more than two words together? Fortunately, MacAlastair continued on his way to the other room, leaving her time to gather her thoughts while she stared at the first painting mounted inside this room.
African Violet Club Mystery Collection Page 37
