Cape Hope Capers

by Winnie Reed

  “So?” I asked, chewing. “What, you can’t eat pizza twice in one weekend? After gorging yourself in Rome?”

  She thought about it for maybe two seconds before taking a bite. “Yeah, that’s the problem. I need to work off the extra calories.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you busy. You can come to the yoga studio with me tomorrow.”

  “Yoga?” She held a napkin over her mouth in case anything shot out while she laughed hysterically.

  “Thanks,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

  “I’m surprised, is all. You, willingly doing yoga.”

  “It’s for Joe’s sake. He needs to find ways to relax and center himself when he’s working. No more panic attacks.” I glanced her way and found her staring at me with a smirk. “What?”

  “You care an awful lot.”

  “Why not? Even I can admit he’s saved my bacon. Why not do what I can? Besides, tell me the thought of him doing yoga isn’t hilarious.”

  “Even funnier than the thought of you doing it,” she snorted.

  “Careful. You might choke while laughing at me. What a tragedy that would be.”

  “All right, fine.” She got serious. “I think it’s nice that you care. Hopefully he’ll take to it. But yoga’s never been my thing. You know that.”

  “You’re into meditating!”

  “Which is not the same. I’ve never cared for it.” She tipped her head to the side. “But I’d be happy to show him how to do that, come to think of it.”

  “That’s a good idea. He needs all the help he can get, working in a high-pressure town like that. When I think of how worried I used to get over Dad going to work…” I shook my head.

  My gaze fell on the envelope, sitting on the dining room table. I didn’t have a dining room—except for the bedroom and bathroom, the apartment was an open floor plan—so I could see it from where we sat.

  “I wonder if it was Millicent. I wish whoever had cleared out the house hadn’t been so dumb about it. I wonder if there’s a sample of her handwriting somewhere.”

  “Where would you find something like that?”

  “No idea. If her things were still kept somewhere, I might land on something and compare it to this letter.”

  Raina grew silent, carefully pulling a piece of pepperoni away from gooey, stretchy cheese. “I feel so bad for her.”

  “Me, too. That poor thing. He told her he loved her. It sounds like her dad went to have it out with him—maybe to tell him he had to marry her or something. And Frank backed out. I wonder how he managed it.”

  “Who knows? Maybe his family was rich, too, and they didn’t want him marrying her. She was loose or whatever they called it.”

  “But she was rich. It would’ve been a good match as far as that went. And unless he was a billionaire, she was probably better off than him.”

  “Maybe he was already engaged to somebody else.”

  “Could be,” I agreed. “Either way, it’s a sad situation. The baby was put up for adoption, supposedly.”

  We turned to each other at the same time. I didn’t know how I looked, of course, but I suspected I was as wide-eyed and surprised looking as she was. “What if we could find the baby? What if they’re owed money or something?”

  Her eyes lit up—then immediately dimmed. “How would we ever do that? We don’t even know if she had a boy or a girl. We don’t even know if it was Millicent or not! I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves.”

  I hated how right she was. “Okay. Hang on.” I got up and went to the junk drawer, where I knew there was a notepad waiting. “Let’s make a list.”

  “Would you please give that poor dog something before she spins herself sick? Or slams her poor little head into something?” Sure enough, Lola was spinning in mad circles, half-crazy over the scent of pizza she couldn’t enjoy.

  “I’m sorry, baby.” I crouched in front of her. “No pizza for you. Your little tummy can’t handle it. I don’t want you to get sick.”

  I looked up at Raina. “And I don’t feel like cleaning it up.”

  A minute later, Lola had her dinner and I was back on the couch with my notepad. “Okay,” I said as I clicked the pen. “Where do we start? We have to find out for sure whether it was Millicent in the picture.”

  “Right.” Raina watched as I wrote this down.

  “Once we find that out,” I murmured, tapping the pen against my chin. “We have to find out where she had the baby.”

  “And when,” Raina added.

  This was starting to look overwhelming. “Did she have a boy or a girl?” I asked as I continued to write.

  “And what happened to them?”

  “Holy jeez. We’re never gonna be able to do this. We’re talking about records from, what? Sixty years ago? Seventy?” I tossed the notepad onto the coffee table, disappointed. “It’s impossible.”

  “That doesn’t sound like you.” She leaned over and picked up the pad. “I think there’s something else that needs to be done after we confirm this was Millicent, and before any records are looked into.”

  “What else is there?” I asked, rubbing my temples.

  “What were the terms of her will? Did she leave her money to the baby? This is what I meant when I said we’re getting ahead of ourselves.”

  At least she used the word we. She didn’t make me feel like a nerd for letting my imagination run away with me. “You’re right. Looks like I’m going in to Philly soon to visit that lawyer of hers.”

  “Has anybody ever told you you’re like a dog digging for a bone once you get an idea in your head?”

  “You’re the first one today,” I shrugged.

  Chapter Twelve

  The look on Joe’s face when I approached him, standing in front of Breanna Schultz’s yoga studio, was maybe one of the top three funniest things I’d ever seen. I had to stop and bend at the waist, laughing until my sides hurt.

  “Oh? This is funny to you?” He looked at the building, then at me. “You want me to do yoga?”

  “Listen. It’s good for relaxation and connecting to your breathing.”

  “And what does that have to do with me? Why do I wanna connect to my breathing?” He rolled his eyes like this was all so utterly beneath him.

  “So you’ll be able to calm yourself down when you need to. When you’re feeling overwhelmed, you’ll more easily connect to your center. To yourself. Not the part of you getting all caught up in the madness around you.” I grasped the door handle. “This is all for your sake. I don’t like yoga at all.”

  “Then why the hell are you asking me to do it?”

  “For the same reason people eat greens when they don’t feel like it. Because it’s good for them.” I opened the door. “Stop complaining and come on.”

  “You’re maybe the worst person.”

  “I’ve been called worse than that lately.” At least he didn’t ask what I meant; he was probably too busy having his second panic attack at the thought of, God forbid, bending for a little while.

  Darcy’s comments still stung. A lot. We’d fought before, the way all siblings did, but she’d never been vicious like that. Personal.

  “Hey.” I stopped him before we entered the room where Breanna taught her beginners class three days a week. “Do you think I think the world revolves around me? Like I’m self-centered?”

  “You’re really asking me this while you’re about to force me into something I really, deeply don’t want to do?” He was grinning until he saw I wasn’t kidding. In a flash, he turned into Detective Joe, right down to the stern expression. “No. Absolutely not. You’re the least selfish person I’ve ever met.”

  That was nice to hear, though I had a feeling he was exaggerating. But it made me feel better.

  “Emma!” Breanna was all smiles when she found us standing outside the room where she was prepping the music. “You’re here! I’m so glad.”

  Then, she laid eyes on Joe. The man was like walking, talking magic. She went fr
om smiley and friendly to a deep-voiced vamp. “Hi. I think I’ve seen you around. You’re Emma’s friend, the detective.” If she’d batted her eyelashes or pulled out a cigarette on one of those long holders and asked for a light, I wouldn’t have been surprised.

  “You can call me Joe,” he grinned. How did he manage to be so cool in the face of obvious female lust?

  I cleared my throat, feeling like a third wheel all of a sudden. “Joe’s new to this whole thing.”

  “You’re practically new, yourself,” she teased before laughing way, way harder than her joke warranted. I’d never had a problem laughing at myself when the situation called for it. Sometimes I was the first person to do the laughing. But this?

  I plastered on a wide smile and ignored Joe’s knowing smirk. “Then I guess we’re in the right place, huh?” I asked, marching into the room where a handful of women were chatting.

  Chatter which stopped dead the second Joe walked into their midst. I had the feeling he’d become a fan of yoga by the time the class was over. Leave it to me to lead him to it.

  “Here.” I thrust a mat his way.

  “Do you just happen to have two yoga mats at your place?” he whispered, unrolling it the way I unrolled mine.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I liked this color better,” I explained, unrolling my light pink mat while he had the purple.

  “A wise decision, especially considering you never use them.”

  “You don’t know my life.” I did what I could to get to the yoga state of mind while also doing what I could to ignore his snickers, and the appraising looks still coming from the other side of the room. It was clear the women who’d already set up their mats wished there was a way they could move closer to him without looking obvious. A few of them shimmied, but that was the thing about an anti-slip mat. It stayed in place.

  “Good morning!” Breanna’s voice was warm, confident. “We have a first-timer here with us this morning, so I’ll make it a point to take a little more time with him.”

  Oh, boy. How did I not see this happening? I glanced at Joe, who looked like he was barely fighting back a grin. Well, of course he would like that. Breanna was tall, willowy, with the body of somebody who made yoga her lifestyle.

  Me? Muffins were my lifestyle. In the back of my mind, my mother’s voice rang out, reminding me that my youthful metabolism would eventually betray me. I would hit thirty and suddenly, everything I ate would show itself on my hips, thighs, tummy.

  First, we practiced some deep breathing to center ourselves. Soft chanting emanated from Breanna’s phone, positioned at the front of the room. I tried to get myself into the proper headspace, to ignore Joe and the other people in the room in favor of going deeper into my own mind.

  It was a real mess in there. Sort of like when a person cleaned their apartment and shoved everything in the closet to hide it. My mind was that closet. I was afraid to open the door, in case everything came falling out at once like in a cartoon.

  “Now, we’ll start with sun salutations.” Breanna stood between Joe and me, walking him through the progression of poses. “Really stretch while keeping your heels on the floor. I’m going to put my hands on your hips and pull them back—just try to relax.”

  Meanwhile, I was also in downward dog. I turned my head slightly to look over at Joe, whose face was a mask of confusion and frustration. A giggle bubbled up in my chest, though I managed to turn my face away before he saw me fighting a laugh.

  “Okay, now you’re going to down between your arms, dropping your hips, leaving everything from your pelvis down flat on the floor.” Breanna positioned herself in front of Joe, showing him how to move into cobra pose. She arched her back and threw back her head, basically thrusting her chest toward him.

  What made it hilarious was the way he cleared his throat, his face going red.

  We went through this again and again until he actually seemed to have the moves down, if not the flow between them. “Relax, focus on your breathing, ease into it. This should not be stressful. There is no strain.”

  Easy for her to say. I was sweating after fifteen minutes.

  Another fifteen minutes later, we were finished. Thank God for that, since I was a mess. We ended the class in child’s pose, which allowed me to compose myself a little bit and get my breathing under control. I really needed to start taking better care of myself—after all, Lola depended on me. I had somebody to take care of.

  “Great class, everybody!” Breanna clapped softly, and the others joined in. Joe didn’t, I noticed, but at least he wasn’t flushed and sweaty the way I was.

  “Isn’t this supposed to be relaxing?” he whispered. “You look like you just went ten rounds with a heavyweight. And I know I’m going to feel this tomorrow. Maybe later today, even.”

  “It gets easier the more you do it,” I reasoned.

  “Though you aren’t speaking from experience.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him as I rolled my mat up. “Anyway, that’s your first yoga practice. What do you think?”

  “Honestly? I can see how the whole experience would be helpful. The soft music, stretching—”

  “A woman’s hands on your hips, pulling them back until your butt is flush against her nether regions.”

  “Quiet,” he warned as Breanna approached. She was positively radiant, glowing, exuding good health and vitality. Why did I want to smack her?

  “You did terrific for your first time,” she praised with a wide smile. “Will we be seeing you again?”

  “I’m only in town on vacation,” he admitted. “Normally, I’m up the road in Paradise City.”

  “Oh, of course.” Her face fell a little. “Well, you’re always welcome here. You seem to really have an affinity for the practice. Eventually, you’ll be able to do an entire hour-long class.”

  I had to turn away when Joe’s face went slack. “An entire hour?”

  “Maybe we should get going,” I suggested. “I promised Mom I would stop by to make sure she didn’t need any help.”

  “Great, I could go for a muffin. I think I earned it after all that hard work.”

  From the way Breanna giggled, I guessed he winked or did something similarly sexy. Not that I cared.

  We started walking down the street, and at first we didn’t say much to each other. Companionable silence was nice, the feeling that one didn’t need to always be talking.

  Naturally, he broke it moments after I had that thought.

  “Do you not like her very much?”

  “Who?”

  “Breanna. Why did you take me to her studio if you don’t like her?”

  “I like her just fine. I’m sure if my head wasn’t always in a hundred different places, we could be friends. I need to make more of an effort in that direction.” I looked over at him. “What made you say I don’t like her?”

  “You seemed sort of short-tempered. Annoyed.”

  “Well, I’m sorry, but she couldn’t have been more obvious. Listen, it’s none of my business and I know it. But I’ve never been able to stomach the sight or sound of a woman making a fool out of herself.”

  “How did she do that?”

  For a second, I thought for sure he was only teasing, only trying to get my goat. There wasn’t a hint of a smile on his face. “Are you serious?”

  That was when he snickered. “You sound jealous.”

  “What would I have to be jealous of? A woman blatantly throwing herself at you? Yeah, wow, that’s something to be jealous of.”

  He was still chuckling, and still making me want to push him out into traffic, when we walked into the café. I was glad our route didn’t take us past the bookstore, since I didn’t even want to see my sister through the window.

  “Detective Joe! It’s so good to see you!” Mom practically burst at the seams at the site of Joe. Though not before giving me a look of approval which I hoped he didn’t pick up on.

  “Mrs. Harmon, your dau
ghter has been running me ragged this morning. Can you believe she actually made me do yoga?” He groaned, leaning against the counter like a man who had just run his first marathon.

  “Now, now.” She shook her finger, chiding him if only jokingly. “It’s good for you. You need to learn to relax. Your health is very important.”

  “You’re absolutely right. However, right now all I want in the world is one of your blueberry muffins. And since my health is so important, I’ll stop at only one even though I want two.” With a smile like his, there was no denying him anything. My mother was always a sucker for a good smile.

  For that matter, so was I.

  I left them to their banter in favor of looking around the café. It was Friday morning, which was always a strange time. The people who’d come in for a week’s vacation on Saturday were normally wrapping it up by now, while those who liked to take Fridays off in the summer to get down to the shore that much earlier were already starting to trickle into town. The customers seated at the dozen scattered tables were a mixture of townsfolk and tourists.

  One of those townsfolk wasn’t to be missed anywhere. Her hats always made her stick out like a sore thumb.

  “Mrs. Merriweather, good morning.” I sat across from her. “I’m not going to take up too much of your time.”

  “You can take all of my time! I always enjoy chatting with you.” She leaned in, looking Joe’s way. “Congratulations. He is quite a catch.”

  Dear Lord, I prayed he couldn’t hear her. He seemed invested in whatever he was talking about with Mom, thank goodness. “Now, Mrs. Merriweather. It’s not like you to spread gossip.” That was a bald-faced lie. “He’s not a catch. I haven’t caught him. And I’m not trying to, either, so don’t get any ideas.”

  She sighed. “Youth is wasted on the young. If only we could trade places. I would show you how it’s done.”

  I had no doubt. “Anyway,” I chuckled, “I was wondering something. Were you well acquainted with Millicent Montbatten?”

  Her face lit up, though in a different way than it did when she was talking about past conquests. “Certainly! We were girls together. Oh, she was lovely. Nothing like that stodgy father of hers. Always telling her what to do, while her mother never had any backbone.” She shook her head, clicking her tongue. “Were it not for him, she might have married one day.”