“What a talented puppy you are, Anastasia. You’re a ballerina!” I exclaimed. The glass doors just off the enormous kitchen that led out to the patio suddenly slid open. Anastasia slipped behind me to hide.
“I thought I heard something,” Bernadette said. “I didn’t think you were ever going to get here.” I opened my mouth to explain, but before I could say a word, Bernadette spotted the poodle.
“Ay que lindo! I had no idea how pretty she is,” Bernadette exclaimed. “Welcome, Anastasia. Here you go,” she said sweetly, offering the still anxious poodle a doggie snack from a pocket. Trust Bernadette to come bearing treats—even for a canine visitor. Anastasia stepped out from behind me and swallowed the snack in a single bite. She wagged her tail, waiting expectantly for more. Bernadette obliged with a second treat.
“If you watch her for a second, I’ll go get her stuff so we can set up her food and water bowls. She must eat a lot judging by the size of the bag of food in my trunk.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. She’s a big girl for a puppy.” Bernadette patted the poodle’s head, barely having to lean at all to reach the “puppy” that stood nearly twenty inches high on all-fours.
“Speaking of eating, what smells so delicious?” The sliders opened again, and Tommy Fontana bounded into the room, as exuberant as Anastasia.
“What’s going on, Bernadette? Is Jessica here... yes!” Tommy said, clapping his hands with joy. “The poodle, too! This house has everything now, doesn’t it?”
Anastasia retreated again. This time she headed around the corner of the enormous granite kitchen island and peeked out at Tommy.
“She doesn’t like me.” Tommy’s bottom lip poked out in a pout.
“Give her a break. She’s been through a lot. I’ll tell you all about it, but someone locked her out of her house,” I said, trying to reassure Tommy by ruffling his hair. More than just a friend, he had become the younger brother I never had even before his older sister was killed while he was still a teen. “We need to let her get used to us.” Then I spoke to the dog, almost in the same tone of voice, I guess, given Tommy’s reaction.
“It’s okay, sweetie. Don’t worry.” Anastasia wagged her tail, sniffed Tommy’s outstretched hand, and then licked it.
“Aw, thanks. I won’t worry,” Tommy quipped.
“Hahaha. Very funny. Come out to my car and help me unload her stuff. This stupid cast makes it hard for me to carry much. Once she has her favorite things around her, I’m sure she’ll feel more comfortable.”
“Now you’re just projecting your needs onto her.”
“Could be, but what I really need is food. Soon, too, if Bernadette and I are going to get over to the hospital to see Mom before visiting hours are over.” Tommy headed into the garage. I caught the door before it could slam behind him. A loud noise like that would only add to the poodle’s distress.
“What smells so heavenly, Bernadette?” I asked, pausing to savor the delicious aroma.
“Arroz con pollo.”
“With verde sauce?”
“Si, y tambien, linguica.”
“Did you hear that? Let’s hurry!” I almost shouted, hustling into the garage. I love the smoke-cured Portuguese sausage seasoned with garlic and paprika. Food could easily have become another addiction except for the fact that I’m so spoiled by Bernadette’s cooking. Her cooking doesn’t make another of my New Year’s resolutions easier to follow, however.
“Linguica’s not going to help me lose another ten pounds of the extra weight I packed on trying to have a baby with the louse I divorced.”
“Oh, come on. I bet you’re counting your blessings that you don’t have that baby now.” Tommy called out from where he stood near the trunk of my car in the third bay of the roomy four-car garage. I slipped past Bernadette’s Cadillac Escalade SUV and my mother’s slinky little Porsche to my Bimmer.
“You’re right, but the extra padding is a constant reminder of what I did to my body for that rat.”
“Flan won’t help either,” Tommy said, lowering his voice as he spoke even though I had closed the door to the kitchen. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you. She knew you had a bad day, so she fixed us all something special.”
“Us? Who’s us, Tommy?” My heart did a little flip-flop wondering if the guest list included Frank Fontana. I wasn’t sure I was ready to tangle with the charming, yet provocative, detective after the day I’d had. As was often the case, however, I also hoped to see him. That lovely day at the beach came back to me as I stood there in limbo. What a conflicted mess I’d become since my divorce and reentry into the world of men as a single woman. Albeit, as a single wounded woman.
You are too weird for words, Jessica Huntington, I chided myself, inwardly.
“Jerry’s here and Laura’s on her way. Cousin Frank’s off doing his duty as a cop.” I tried not to react, as waves of relief and disappointment rolled over me at the same time.
Make that extra super weird, I thought.
“Brien was here before Jerry and I showed up. Maybe it’s his ‘Extra-Sensatory Precipitation’ as he likes to call it. He sure seems to have ESP of some kind when it comes to food. Just between you and me, though, I’m not sure if he’s here for the food or for Kim. He asked me if she was coming with you,” he said. “There’s something about the way he asked. I think he’s got a crush.”
“Wow! Bernadette’s been busy, putting out calls to assemble the Cat Pack on such short notice. If you’re right, Brien’s going to be bummed. Kim’s not sure she can make it for dinner.” She was about to explain, but when she popped the lid to her trunk Tommy took one look at the contents and let out a whoop.
“Woohoo! When you said stuff, you meant it,” Tommy exclaimed as he gave the food bag a yank. “This must weigh fifty pounds.”
“Thirty. I had help from the police getting it to my car.”
“Police, huh? Bernadette was right about it being a bad day. How did you get the police to help you with Anastasia’s dog food?”
“It’s a long, sad, two-part story which explains why we’re now sheltering a poodle. I’ll explain, as soon as Anastasia’s situated. She needs food and so do I,” I said as I picked up a shopping bag loaded with bowls, toys, a leash, and other doggie items.
“We’re all set up outside—the fire pit’s going, and we have drinks and snacks.” Tommy had hoisted that bag of dog food up out of the car and was about to haul it into the house when the door leading from the kitchen to the garage opened. Brien rushed past the other cars to join us.
“Yo, I thought you guys could use a hand. Whoa, I guess so,” Brien said as he gazed into the trunk of my car. He reached out and with one hand grabbed the bag of dog food from Tommy.
“Thanks, Brien. Now I can get Anastasia’s bed.”
“That dog’s loaded! Her own bed, a humongous bag of chow, all those toys, and this…whatever it is,” he said as he picked up the metal stand that would hold Anastasia’s food and water bowls. “Bernadette said the poor poodle has problems, but she’s set when it comes to doggie gear.” He took off toward the door. Before he opened it, he turned back toward us, and spoke.
“Uh, so, um, Kim must be coming in her own car, huh?” Brien was doing his best to play it cool, but I could tell this was more than a casual question. His muscular frame blocked most of the door from view as he waited for my reply. He wore a sweet, earnest look on his face, framed by a shock of blond hair reminiscent of the surfers he idolized. Retro. Like Kim. As I moved toward him, he somehow managed to get the door open even with the load of pampered poodle goodies he held.
“She planned to join us, but we’ve got more than poodle problems on our hands today I’m afraid. Let’s eat and I’ll explain.” I ducked under his arm and darted into the house with the bag I carried. No way was Brien going to argue with that idea.
“I wonder where I should set this up?” I said aloud as I set the shopping bag down on the kitchen floor and began pulling items from it. A voice respon
ded from behind me, speaking through the screened patio doors.
“How did Beverly Windsor have it arranged?”
“What?” I asked, startled by the question.
“Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me,” Jerry said as he slid the screen door open and stepped inside.
“Egads, it was an even harder day than I thought,” I said. “Sorry to jump like that. Tommy told me you were here. I’m glad because I need to talk to you.”
“Bernadette told me there was trouble involving your friend and her poodle.” Jerry smiled as Anastasia came around the kitchen island wagging her tail at the sight of her stuff. She dove into the bag I’d set on the floor and pulled out a raggedy stuffed animal.
“It’s probably best to keep everything as familiar to Anastasia as possible. That ought to help her adjust to her new surroundings,” he added. Anastasia had backed into the kitchen and flopped down on the floor with the toy that was a giraffe or a dinosaur, maybe.
“That’s a great idea,” I said. He smiled again. I tried not to stare at him in his bright red t-shirt that set off his blindingly white smile and the sparks of gold in his hazel eyes. Not to mention the shirt was paired with jeans that fit him perfectly, accentuating other assets. The stunningly good-looking man was surprisingly shy at times, and always polite—chivalrous even. According to Tommy, Jerry’s good looks had earned him more attention than he was ready for as a teen. At seventeen, Jerry already towered over his admirers—male and female, alike, and was often believed to be older than he was.
“He had to beat them off with a stick,” Tommy had said once, smiling wickedly as he teased Jerry. His comment had made Jerry blush. Over the moon about the man, Tommy often pushed Jerry to the brink of what his quiet, private demeanor could bear. Yin and Yang, in many ways given the elfish delight Tommy found in his own over-the-top way of dealing with the world. Tommy had always been perfectly happy being at the center of attention in any gathering.
Despite their differences, Tommy and Jerry seemed devoted to each other and intent on figuring out how to make their relationship work. I admired their efforts and hoped they could do it. Relationships can go terribly wrong, I thought as an image flashed through my mind of Cassie wielding that cane like a club as she lunged at Jim. I closed my eyes, driving it away before my mind could wander to the disgusting tableau that had marked the first time I encountered the two of them together. How had love, or something like it, ended up in the display of rage I’d witnessed in that courtroom so quickly? Jim and Cassie had been married less than a year.
I continued unloading items from the shopping bag, almost in slow motion as my thoughts drifted. Beverly’s relationship with Cedric Baumgartner had certainly moved from one stage to another rapidly. I tried to imagine the sensible woman I knew connecting in an intimate way with a man as disturbed as the woman in Jim’s life was. Could their relationship have deteriorated into murderous rage as quickly as it had moved from acquaintance to friendship to romance? Maybe, especially if Cedric Baumgartner wasn’t the man Beverly believed him to be.
“How about this?” Brien asked. I suddenly realized he was standing there, waiting patiently, loaded down with that bag of dog chow on one shoulder, and his other hand holding onto the metal stand for Anastasia’s food and water bowls.
“I’m sorry. It’s been a long day. You’ve got a friend,” I added, pointing to Anastasia who was at Brien’s side, nuzzling his hand. Was it the sight of her food or something about the happy-go-lucky dude who held it that had put Anastasia at ease?
Maybe she recognizes a kindred spirit, I mused. Brien’s as guileless as a big, friendly Labrador. I glanced at Tommy standing in the doorway from the garage wearing Anastasia’s doggie bed as an enormous hat. Apparently, he hadn’t noticed Anastasia’s friendly interaction with Brien. That might have bothered Tommy who could be hyper-sensitive to perceived slights. That’s only one of the consequences of growing up in a world that had not always been kind to him.
“In here, Brien,” Bernadette said, opening the door to a large, walk-in pantry that sat at the end of a narrow hallway off the kitchen. “I’ll take that to set up her food and water,” she said, pointing at the metal frame Brien held.
“That’ll be perfect. Here are the bowls,” I said, sliding them across the shiny granite surface of the kitchen island. “These can go in the pantry, too, don’t you think?” I asked, pushing a huge box of dog biscuits, a jar of doggie vitamins, and Anastasia’s brush and leashes toward her too. The sight of her food and water bowls had worked a bit of magic on Anastasia who was wiggling and wagging her tail with enthusiasm, despite so many strangers who were all talking at once.
What did she go through before I showed up today? I wondered, remembering how scared she had become when I let her back into Beverly’s kitchen.
“Where do you want her bed?” Tommy asked, with it still resting on his head.
“That was in Beverly’s bedroom. I’ll put it in mine for now, along with her doggie toys. Anastasia can mooch along with me. Is that okay, Girl?” Anastasia woofed, as if in reply to my question. It was more likely it was in excitement as Bernadette set a bowl of food in its rack. Anastasia didn’t hesitate and began wolfing the food down.
“I wonder how long she was locked outside?” I muttered. “Follow me,” I told Tommy in a louder voice.
“I’m your beast of burden, Baby,” he said as we scooted down the hallway that led to the wing of the house where my bedroom was located.
“You shouldn’t call yourself a beast, Tommy.”
“Then you shouldn’t call yourself a mooch, either.”
“True. That doesn’t mean I feel better about landing at my mother’s house careening toward midlife.”
“Given the events of the past year, you should be grateful you have any kind of life at all.”
“Also, true.” That I’d been able to lose a few pounds, and restart my law career was a reason to be grateful, too. It was no small thing, either, that we’d helped bring a few well-heeled heels to justice who might otherwise have used their money and power to continue to hurt people. If that’s what happened to Beverly, the creeps had better watch out.
“We won’t let them get away with it,” I said aloud as I opened the door to my suite. A comfortable feeling enveloped me as I entered the room I’d inhabited until I left home for college. “Let’s put it over there on the other side of my bed, away from the door. Maybe she’ll feel less afraid of the door opening and closing.”
“No problem, but you’d better learn to leave the door open more now that you’ve got a roommate,” Tommy said, slinging the pet bed onto the floor. “Won’t let who get away with what?”
“Did I say that out loud?”
“Yes, you did.”
“I have a story to tell you that’s going to be a sorry accompaniment to arroz con pollo and flan, I’m afraid. Another whodunit.”
“Dinner and a mystery. You’re more mensch than mooch,” Tommy said as he knelt and straightened out Anastasia’s doggie bed.
13 Motherly Tip-off
“Sorry we’re so late, Mom. We had poodle problems,” I said as I gave Mom a kiss on the cheek.
“Poodle problems?” Alexis asked.
“I can explain. You look good. Are you feeling well?”
“As well as can be expected for an old addict with cancer who nearly killed herself with an overdose.” I stood up straight and gazed at my mother.
“Wow! That’s telling it like it is. Except for the ‘old’ bit. That doesn’t quite fit. Sixties are the new forties, after all.” That got a smile from Alexis as I moved out of the way for Bernadette to give her a hug. The ever-thoughtful Bernadette set a small insulated bag down on the table near where Alexis was sitting. “Goodies if you get bored with the hospital food,” she said.
“I told her you weren’t too happy with the food here and our St. Bernadette put a care package together for you so you won’t starve.” Mom peeked into that bag.
; “Mm. Thank you, Bernadette. Giovanni brought me a fruit basket, but cookies are much better. Don’t tell him I said that. He means well and there was another little goodie in the basket—see?” Alexis pulled back the sleeve of her hospital robe and exposed a wrist wrapped in a lovely bracelet with red stones inset in an elaborately patterned metal.
“That’s gorgeous!”
“Si, glorioso!” Bernadette exclaimed.
“Yes, Giovanni has excellent taste. Italian red coral set in white gold. He’s letting me wear it until he leaves for the night. It’s an incentive for me to get well soon so he can take me out on the town in a lovely dress to match.”
“Where is he? Will we get to say hello?”
“You know how busy he is. He got a text or an email and ran off to make a phone call. There’s always a problem somewhere with one of his companies or a new deal to be made.” Alexis pulled the sleeve back down over her bracelet. She leaned back against the chair and closed her eyes. “I understand now, but I used to treat your father horribly about how much he worked. Bernadette can tell you how I fought with him about preferring his career to his child and me. My shrink says I was insecure. She doubts he could ever have filled the emptiness, but I wanted him to try.”
“I can’t imagine Dad didn’t try. He still seems to care a lot about you even decades after you divorced him. That’s how he refers to it—that you divorced him.”
“That’s true. My shrink back then said I have a classic Borderline Personality—needy and empty.” She dropped her eyes and stared at her hands. “All I heard was crazy and that made me angry. Then I found my happy pills. It just seemed easier to take a couple and wash them down with a fine wine. Easy isn’t always easy, though, is it?” She asked, finally making eye contact with me.
4 A Dead Mother Page 12
