by Vickie Fee
“Ha! Beautiful women are what keep my heart beating. I’ll leave you two to enjoy this glorious sunset. Sunrises are better timed for me these days. I start nodding off just after dinner. Salve,” he said, throwing me a kiss before he turned and walked toward the house.
“Don’t tell him I said so, but I think my dad has a little crush on you, Halley Greer.”
“Don’t tell him I said so, but I think I have a little crush on your dad.”
“Ah, I only hope I can be as charming as my father.”
He poured more sparkling wine in my glass and raised his just as the sun began to dip behind the horizon in gorgeous shades of red and orange.
“Let’s toast the sunset, because it signals the time is nearly right for my little surprise,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.
We sat at the table and enjoyed some crackers with goat cheese and bruschetta with tomato and basil. After about fifteen minutes, Marco stood and picked up a picnic basket from the end of the table.
“Follow me,” he said as he walked toward the vineyard.
I followed. Once we had gone a little distance from the lights on the house, it began to get progressively darker as we made our way through rows of vines on the terraced hillside. Suddenly, I saw some soft light ahead. We entered a clearing, which had two candlelit lanterns atop a table, along with a projector. Beside it were two chairs with a small table between them. About twenty feet beyond, a large white canvas was strapped to the front of an arbor, lashed on top and along each side.
“An outdoor movie theater!” I exclaimed. “Oh, Marco, this is some set-up you have here.”
“I’m so glad you approve.”
“What’s the feature?”
“My Fair Lady. Since neither of us got to enjoy the showing at the Star Movie Palace, I though a private al fresco screening was in order.”
He set the picnic basket on the ground between us and opened it. He pulled out a covered bowl of popcorn and set it on the table, along with two wine glasses and a new bottle of wine.
“There are some homemade almond cookies and a thermos of hot chocolate for later. I wouldn’t attempt to make coffee—that’s your area of expertise. And in case you think I’m taking liberties by choosing such a long film. We don’t have to finish it tonight. We can stop at intermission, if you like. It will give me an excuse to have you return for a viewing of Part Two. But if you’re game for the whole show tonight, I won’t object.”
“We’ll see,” I said.
He opened the wine bottle, a Carvello special reserve, and I nibbled on some popcorn topped with parmesan.
“Even the popcorn at Carvello’s is gourmet. I’m impressed.”
Reaching into the oversized basket again, he pulled out a shawl and handed it to me.
“And this is in case it gets chilly.”
I ran my fingers across the fine wool shawl in a blue green color.
“This is lovely.”
“It belonged to my mother.”
I touched the soft shawl to my face.
Marco was a charming movie companion, watching attentively and making occasional comments. During the scene in her bedroom where Audrey Hepburn sang “I Could Have Danced All Night,” he suddenly stood and extended his hand. We danced under the stars and he even spun me around a couple of times.
The movie paused and an “intermission” sign popped up on the screen shortly after Eliza Doolittle’s debut at the races.
“Halftime,” Marco said, holding up his hands in a time-out gesture.
Marco reached into the basket and fished out a plastic container and a thermos. He poured some hot chocolate into a paper cup and handed it to me along with a cookie.
“Mmm, this chocolate is rich and the cookie is great, too,” I said.
“Glad you like it. I like to take care of my guests—and my friends. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I’ve been a little worried since you told me that you and Kendra were snooping into Vince Dalton’s murder. If it really turns out to be murder, that obviously means there’s a killer out there. And I don’t want you, or Kendra, doing anything to upset him—or her.”
“You’re sweet, but trust me you’ve no reason to worry. All we’ve really done so far is look around his cottage. And that was after the cops had already cleared boxes full of stuff out of there.”
“Find anything interesting?”
“Maybe. But you’ll laugh at me if I tell you.”
“I won’t laugh. Scout’s honor.”
“Were you really a Boy Scout?”
“No, I have to admit that I wasn’t a scout. But honor is a big deal in my family, so I’ll keep my word.”
“Okay, so we found this old boot…”
I proceeded to tell him what we found and what Kendra thought it could mean and how she was quietly trying to find out from the historical society if anyone had been researching the Jesse James gang or hidden treasure. Although, it wasn’t as quietly as we had supposed since Detective Stedman had brought it up when he questioned her. I didn’t mention the possible blackmail because I had promised I wouldn’t.
True to his word, Marco didn’t laugh but he did give me a big smile.
“Well, there are many underground tunnels in town, and I imagine people can get pretty crazy, and even dangerous, when they believe there’s a fortune at stake. You and Kendra be discreet, and if you run up against anything or anyone that makes you feel uncomfortable please call me anytime—day or night.”
“Thank you, but I think we’ll be—”
“I’m serious. You two are the brains of this operation, but if you need a little brawn…” he said, curling his arm and flexing a pretty impressive bicep, “I’ll bring out these guns.”
“Thank you for the offer, and for the lovely evening.” After a beat I added, “As much as I’ve enjoyed this, it’s getting a bit late to finish the film. I think I’m going to have to say goodnight.”
“Of course. It was all part of my devious plan anyway, choosing a very long movie so I’d have an excuse to turn one date into two. You will come back to watch the other half with me sometime soon, won’t you?”
“I’d love to.”
We strolled hand-in-hand to my car. I handed him the shawl wrapped around my shoulders as I opened the door, and he leaned over and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek.
CHAPTER 19
I woke up early Monday—and in a good mood, humming tunes from My Fair Lady and twirling as I danced my way from the living room into the open kitchen. I took a few gulps from a bottle of orange juice as I surveyed the contents of the fridge and decided I’d once again have breakfast at The Muffin Man.
I should get a volume discount.
I walked briskly to the end of my block. Zeke called out to me as I entered.
“Mornin’, Halley.”
“Good morning, Zeke.”
I got in line and stared up at the menu board on the wall behind the counter, even though I already knew what I was going to order.
I had just sat down at a table with my oversized cinnamon roll and large coffee when I saw Nick walk in. We exchanged waves before he stepped up to the counter.
Appearing next to my table holding coffee and a muffin he said, “May I join you?”
“Sure, I’d appreciate the company.”
I felt I’d been a little unfair to Nick the night he walked me home from the Wooden Nickel, especially after he’d rescued me from an uncomfortable conversation with Trey. We’d only exchanged a couple of shy waves from across the street since then.
“You look awfully perky,” he said. “Not saying that’s a bad thing. Just that I’m not a real morning person. I guess it would make sense that you are—a morning person, that is. Since coffee is your thing.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way, but yeah, I guess I am kind o
f a morning person. I’ve been meaning to drop by your store to say hi,” I said, followed by an awkward pause. “So, have any customers gotten stuck in a kayak lately?”
“No, fortunately. But I did lead a group on a kayaking trip on Porcupine Lake this weekend. The weather was perfect.”
“That sounds lovely. Are there any porcupines around Porcupine Lake?”
“I’ve seen a few,” he said before launching into a story about how the family dog when he was growing up ended up on the losing side of an encounter with a porcupine.
“Aw, poor fella,” I said, envisioning a cocker spaniel with a muzzle full of quills.
Nick and I conversed comfortably and before I knew it, we’d been chatting for almost an hour.
“Wow, it’s later than I thought. I guess I should get going,” I said, thinking it would be nice to end our conversation before it hit a sour note—for once.
“Yeah, me, too. I need to work on some mountain bike repairs. It was good seeing you again,” he said.
“Yeah, thanks for keeping me company over breakfast.”
Nick opened the door for me as we left and we walked down the sidewalk in companionable silence, parting ways in front of the theater. Nick was just walking away as I unlocked the front door, when I heard a car pull up to the curb behind me.
“Buongiorno.”
I quickly turned to see Marco calling to me from his convertible.
“Good morning, Marco.”
“I’m on the run this morning, but I just wanted to tell you again what a wonderful time I had last night. Talk to you soon.”
I returned his wave as he sped away and caught a glimpse of Nick giving me the side eye as he crossed the street. I walked in and sat down on a loveseat in the lobby, feeling flustered.
There’s absolutely no reason I should feel bad about Nick overhearing my exchange with Marco.
I wished I could talk to Kendra about Nick—and about Marco. But the escape rooms were closed on Mondays and she was spending the day in Fayetteville. Simon’s mother was in town for a visit and she and Kendra were going to have a spa day together, followed by a family dinner at Bart and Simon’s house. I certainly wasn’t going to call her and interrupt any of that.
I decided to banish any lingering thoughts about Nick by busying myself with work. Since there’s no coffee service on Monday mornings, I did some deep cleaning in the auditorium. After a break, I put posters out front for the next movie we’d be showing. My Fair Lady’s run had ended, and we had a new feature starting Thursday night.
I unlocked the access door and ascended the steep steps to the level above the lobby, one of those cool secret places in the theater that no one ever gets to see. I climbed through the access panel and stepped out onto the platform behind the marquee, then put on a safety harness and secured the line to the steel truss supporting the marquee. After carefully crawling under the reader board onto a two-foot platform, I removed the letters spelling out My Fair Lady. Then, letter by letter, I replaced them with the name of our next feature: Charade, starring Audrey Hepburn and Cary Grant. As I scanned the marquee, making sure everything was correct, I could see a small crowd gathered across the street, watching me. Some of them actually applauded as I slipped back behind the marquee. I wasn’t sure if they were applauding my efforts or my choice of film. Either way, I’d take it.
I caught up on paperwork and by six o’clock decided to knock off work for the day.
A few minutes later I was standing in line at the takeout counter at Jade Garden waiting for my dinner order, trying to stave off starvation with a peppermint stick. I had grabbed the piece of candy from the counter after dropping a donation in the jar for the Lion’s Club to help the sight- impaired.
I heard Clifford Caldwell’s booming voice emanate from somewhere behind me. Glancing over my shoulder I saw him talking to a man I didn’t recognize as they waited to be seated in the main dining room. I inclined my ear, and fortunately Clifford talks loudly enough to drown out the growling of my stomach.
“Later this week, we’ll have an update in the paper on the murder investigation that will shed a new light on a few things.”
I peered over my shoulder again, which seemed to make the woman in line behind me nervous.
The man Clifford was talking to looked nonplussed. But I was extremely interested in learning more about Clifford’s exposé.
I got up a bit earlier than usual because this particular Tuesday morning was a special one. It would be my first day to feature breakfast fare from Our Daley Bread at the coffee bar. I guess Adam at Donut Dealer and Zeke had given Gisele a favorable report on me, because she had called on Friday and said she was in for Tuesday if I still had an opening.
I walked over to pick up the day’s selections, entering the bakery wearing a big smile. Gisele’s face wasn’t wearing a smile, even a little one. I decided that must be her normal expression, and I wasn’t going to let it get me down. She already had everything boxed up for me.
As I walked back to the theater, I spotted Nick outside his store, sweeping up. I smiled and waved. He looked right at me with a blank stare before retreating into the store with his broom. I crossed the street before I reached his place.
I got back to the theater, set the box on the counter and opened the lid to find still warm banana nut bread and coffee cake. But even the heavenly aroma emanating from the box didn’t tempt my appetite.
Darn that Nick Raiford. He’s an acquaintance I’ve run into around the neighborhood and we’ve had a neighborly conversation a couple of times. Nothing more.
I was still ruminating when Kendra dropped in for coffee, as she and Trudy were developing the habit of doing just before the coffee bar officially opens.
“Hey, what’s up?” she asked as she walked to the bar.
“Mornin’,” I said, apparently looking as down in the mouth as I felt.
“Whoa, what’s wrong? You look, I don’t know…glum, I guess.”
“That’s a good word for it. Glum. Or dumb. That would probably be an even better word.”
“I’ll take a wild guess that your mood is either about the murder investigation or about men. Which is it?” she asked as she climbed onto a barstool.
“I hate to be predictable, but you hit it head on when you said men.”
I told her about my date with Marco. Or at least I told her a little about my date with Marco. I said we’d had a nice picnic in the vineyard. I didn’t go into details about the outdoor movie and dancing and hand holding. She couldn’t even acknowledge her feelings for Joe, so I wasn’t going to admit I felt like a blushing schoolgirl every time I was around Marco.
“Okay, I must be the one who’s dumb because I can’t think of any reason you should be depressed about last night. It sounds like a nice date. What am I missing?”
“It was a nice date, but I just met Marco. And then the whole thing this morning with Nick…”
“Nick? Wait, back up. I totally missed the part about Nick.”
I told her about my nice breakfast with Nick and Marco’s drive-by comment as Nick was walking away, followed by Nick’s brush off this morning.
“There’s absolutely no reason I should feel badly about Nick overhearing that I went out with Marco. In fact, breakfast this morning was the first time Nick and I have ever had a conversation that didn’t end badly. But then, he did help out with the renovations and he did kind of rescue me from an uncomfortable conversation with Trey Tilby.”
“Hold up. Why would you even talk to Trey Tilby? Scratch that. Unfortunately, I’ve got a bunch of stuff I need to do before I open up today. Come to my place tonight around eight thirty and we’ll continue this conversation. Or start a new one if you prefer, okay?”
“Kendra, you really don’t need to worry about me. I’m being maudlin for no good reason.”
“I will not take no for
an answer. I have no life. The least you can do is talk to me about yours. Gotta go,” she said heading toward the door.
As she was leaving she repeated, “Eight thirty.”
Business was brisk, which made the morning pass quickly. The coffee cake and banana bread were a hit. We sold out. That should please Gisele, I thought. Not that it would ever register on her face.
After cleaning up the coffee bar and running upstairs for a quick bite of lunch, I decided it was time I tried to foster a more amicable relationship with the local media. My less than brilliant plan was to go to the newspaper office and buy a subscription to the newspaper as a sign of good will. Then I’d try to casually make conversation with Clifford. The last time he came by the coffee bar he let some information slip about the autopsy report. I figured if I were lucky, he’d let some new information slip out. He definitely liked the sound of his own voice.
The Utopia Sentinel’s offices were located on the edge of the commercial district in a plain brick building identified by the paper’s name in a script font on the front window. There was no bell or fanfare when I entered. In fact there was no one manning the reception counter and no one sitting behind the desk with a name plate that read “Heidi Howzer, advertising sales.” Which was disappointing because I would’ve enjoyed saying “howdy” to her. I did, however, spot a sign that said “Newsroom” on a door in the back.
The door was open a crack and as I approached I heard smacking sounds, which I presumed were being made by someone noisily eating lunch. It turned out to be even less appetizing than that.
“Susie, behave. Someone could walk in and see us.”
“Cliffie, you know I can’t get through the day without a little sugar,” she said, making smooching sounds.
“Well, I guess cops can’t live on doughnuts alone.”
I felt my stomach lurch.
“The sign on that door says ‘utility,’ so let’s make use of it for a little smooching. But we have to hurry. I need to get back to work. The chief frowns on long lunches,” she said.
