by Ritter Ames
“It’s Mom again. She’s reached the point of texting me.” Abby sighed. “She only does that when she’s really mad.”
“What’s it say?”
“Could I find time in my busy schedule to stop and have lunch with my mother?” she read.
“Oh, yeah, she’s mad at you.” I laughed. I got Honey settled on the seat and closed the back door, before getting behind the wheel. “This afternoon we were just going to wade through the computer backgrounds and stuff you ordered up this morning from the legal databases. We can do that tonight if you’d like me to drop you by your mom’s house. I’ll need to pick Mac up pretty soon, anyway.”
Abby shook her head. “No, let’s just go back to your place and I’ll drive to my mom’s so I can leave there when I want.”
I started the Honda and pulled out, then had to wait a bit to make a left on the highway and grumbled, “I remember when there was never any traffic here.”
“You’re starting to sound old and grouchy, Lissa. Next, you’ll be telling everyone to ‘get off my lawn.’”
“Nah, I get Honey to do the grouchy gigs.”
At the mention of her name, Honey poked her big head between our seats.
“Aw, does your mommy make you bark grouchy things at people?” Abby asked, scratching under the dog’s chin as she teased.
“You have her for life, Abbs. That dog will follow anyone all day who scratches there.”
When we pulled up to my house, a young mom and a toddler on a ride-along scooter were in the driveway admiring Abby’s Miata.
The mother apologized when we got out. “He adores all cars, but especially red ones. And he wouldn’t go past until we studied it closer.”
“That’s perfectly fine,” Abby said with a smile. “Those are exactly the reasons I bought the Miata in the first place.”
I opened the back door and Honey leapt out, snapping on her leash so she wouldn’t scare the little boy or knock him off his scooter. Without restraint, she would have tried to get close enough to lick him. But I needn’t have worried. The child squealed in delight and threw his arms out, attempting to hug Honey.
“Believe it or not,” his mom said, all of us laughing at the cuteness of the scene, “as much as he likes cars, he loves dogs even more. The bigger the better.”
“He’s welcome to come and see her anytime,” I said. “Honey has two boys of her own who are in school, so she can get lonesome in the mornings.”
“We’ll remember. Thank you. But it’s time we got home for lunch, so he’ll get down on time for his nap.”
“I remember those years,” I said. Honey arf’d loudly in the child’s ear, but he just laughed again, and his mother smiled, so I figured we were good. “By the way, I’m Lissa, and this is Abby.”
“I’m Heather, and this is Joey.”
In a few minutes Joey and Heather were on their way again, and Honey was still grinning from making a new friend and riding in the car all morning.
Even better, in my peripheral vision, I saw John Harper staring at a house down the block. I told Abby, “Keep Honey for a minute. I’ll be right back.”
“Hi, Mr. Harper,” I called. “Are you getting moved in okay?”
“Wh-what?” he stuttered. Obviously my second impression on the man wasn’t much better than my first. “Oh, yes. My wife is getting everything sorted out to her satisfaction.”
I waved my hand up and down the street. “This week, I’ve been running my boys to and from school, and I’ve noticed you several different places in the neighborhood. Do you have any questions, or can I help you with anything?”
He hung his head. “No. You probably think I’m pretty silly looking at all the houses.” He gave a great sigh. “I’m finding myself at loose ends. Retirement, you know. Didn’t expect this.”
“I imagine it will get better as you get more comfortable with all the changes,” I said. “You’ve made a couple of big ones, leaving your career behind and moving into a new house at the same time.”
“That’s what my wife says.” His caterpillar brows drew together. “Maybe I should get a part-time job.”
“You could. Or you could talk to Mrs. Glover down the block about getting involved in community events. She does several every year and always enjoys working with everyone.”
“I may do that. Thank you... Lissa. Right?”
“Right.” I grinned. “And you’re very welcome. Let me know if I can do anything else.”
Once I’d walked back my house, I joined Abby and Honey, sitting on the porch, and recounted why my new neighbor was staring at house fronts. Then I said, “It looks like you and Honey have had a comfortable visit. Anything I need to be updated on?”
“I wish I could manage my expectation as well as your dog can,” Abby said.
“Don’t we all?” I nodded to the phone she still gripped tightly. “Are you going to call or text your mom back? Or just show up?”
She started to speak but laughed instead. “Watching Joey and Honey outside gave me an idea. Can I pick Mac up from school and take him with me? Mom will be thrilled with the chance to spoil such a cute little boy, and I won’t have to deal with all her ‘when are you going to get married and settle down’ and ‘when are you going to start visiting more’ questions.”
“You don’t think your bringing Mac along won’t fuel the first set of questions?”
Abby tossed her head in a defiant gesture. “Whether it does or not, I’ll have to listen to them later anyway. And for this trip, she won’t get it into her head I need to be here for you and the boys. Taking Mac along will give her a visual reminder why it’s so important I stay focused on what I’m doing this week.”
All this psychology about her mother—Ha! Time to give the real reasons. I said, “And he’s a non-family, innocent child, so your mother wouldn’t dare chastise you for anything while he’s in the room, because he might talk about it with other people later and make her look bad. Plus, when he starts acting bored because there aren’t any other kids to play with, you have the perfect excuse to leave.”
“Bingo.”
A half-hour later, Abby zoomed off in the Miata with a signed note by me to the teacher giving Mac permission to leave with her. My kid would be ecstatic—riding shotgun in a real sports car. She’d already promised to take Jamey for a ride in the car later, so there wasn’t any sibling one-upmanship.
With an afternoon free, I didn’t have to think twice on how to fill it. After finishing off the lunch I’d packed earlier for Mac, I cranked up the volume on the ’80s radio station and sang along as I worked on my blog. Honey streaked up the stairs, heading for the boys’ room, where she always hid from my loud music. I made a lot of progress quickly and was feeling pretty good about getting my schedule under control. When the opening bars of “Walking on Sunshine” played, I decided to reward myself and add dance moves on the kitchen floor as I backed up Katrina and the Waves.
So, I didn’t notice the doorbell ringing, until Honey started barking from the upstairs landing.
I cut power to the radio and hollered for the dog to hush, as I raced to see who was at the door.
“Hello, Lissa.” Standing polished in DKNY linen slacks and silk blouse—and enveloped in a cloud of Obsession perfume—was Mrs. Lofton’s daughter. In one hand was a small, pink, open-topped Kate Spade bag, and she held out the other hand in an offer to shake. “I hope I’m not disturbing you. I’m Sandra Lofton.” Her perfectly painted mouth twitched. Since she didn’t know me well enough to tease, I knew her comment was sarcasm. I took her hand anyway and forced myself not to look at her perfect manicure.
“Sorry that I didn’t hear the bell right away. Just working on my online business,” I said, motioning toward the living room, using my hand as much to wave away her scent as to direct which room I wanted her to go to. Then catching a look at myself in the hall mirror, I almost screamed. I’d left my hair loose that morning, and after the head-banging I’d done while dancing, I looked
like wild personified. As she walked in front of me, I frantically tried to smooth my hair with my fingers.
“What kind of business do you have?” she asked.
No point in getting into a discussion with her like I had with Brian, so I said, “I have several things in the works, but they’re still at the confidential stage.”
“I understand completely.” She nodded her head, the silky golden locks moving so effortlessly and returning in unison to their flawless style. “Until business school, I had no idea what an NDA was. Now I have to sign them all the time just to get the briefest hint of information. An NDA is a non-disclosure agreement, by the way.”
“I know what an NDA is, thank you.” I hated her. I hated her a lot. And not just because she had perfect hair, nails and clothes and was so condescending. Obviously, her mother taught her well.
“Of course, you do. I don’t know why I said that.” She looked at my blue sofa, then moved to the other end before she sat down, standing her purse on the coffee table. Perfectly. Grrr. I took the chair on that side.
Honey finally decided the music wasn’t going to blast on again, so risked coming downstairs to investigate our visitor.
“Oh, you have a yellow Lab, how lovely.” Sandra surprised me by reaching out for Honey and scratching the dog’s ears. Maybe she wasn’t all bad.
“She likes to be called blonde instead of a yellow Lab,” I said, offering our standard family joke. “Because she’s heard blondes have more fun.”
“And we do.” She kissed the top of Honey’s head and left behind a pink lip print. “You’re such a pretty girl. We could have a lot of fun together.”
Not on my watch, lady.
Time to find out what she came for. A direct approach seemed the safest. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Sandra. What can I do for you today?”
“I’m trying to meet the neighbors as I can. I’ll be here through the summer, while I take graduate classes in Tulsa.”
“Oh, that’s nice. I’ll bet your mom loves having you around.”
“Of course,” the blonde gushed. “She loves hearing about my life. I work for Henson, Carter and Associates in their estate division. They’re national, but I transferred last year to the home office in Kansas City and report to the president’s administrative assistant. I started out in Oklahoma City. They’re grooming me for higher management and asked me to add the summer classes to my resume.”
“Sounds...lovely,” I almost bit my tongue. “Would you like some lemonade?”
She made a sour face. “I’m fine, thanks.”
And very self-absorbed. Aloud, I said, “So, you’re on an educational sabbatical this summer, I assume?”
“Heavens no. It’s critical I stay in the middle of things. I’m telecommuting for the next couple of months, so you’ll probably see me around. I noticed your car out front and thought this would be the perfect opportunity to stop by.”
Too bad she hadn’t run away from the music like Honey did. “Well, sounds like you enjoy a busy life. My word. And you picked a good afternoon to drop in. Usually, my youngest is here. But a guest is staying with us, and she did the kindergarten pick-up with plans to keep him occupied this afternoon to let me work in quiet. Otherwise, we’d have him and the dog running through the house.”
My talking about her was apparently enough to remind my loveable Lab that she didn’t like sitting still for long. She left us, wandering toward the kitchen, and a second later I heard lapping from her huge water bowl.
“Goodness, she drinks a lot,” Sandra said.
“Well, she is as big as a small horse and drinks like one.”
“Oh, I can imagine. And your house is fairly neat for having a big dog and rambunctious children,” she added. Then she directed the conversation and my attention to what she actually came for—as if I hadn’t guessed. “From the scuttlebutt on the street, I understand you and your guest were the ones who discovered the dead body Sunday morning. Correct?”
There it was. The real reason she landed her broom on my doorstep.
“Actually, Honey discovered the body first. I was simply her backup.”
She giggled. “You’re so funny. Mom said you do a blog. I’ll bet it’s a hoot to write.”
Yeah, a hoot. I knew I wasn’t that funny. My boys told me so all the time.
“We were just wondering how the poor man came to be found in Mrs. Glover’s garage,” she continued, her blue eyes radiating sincerity. “With it being next to my parents’ home, you can see why we would be concerned.”
“That’s something you need to discuss with the police. I can give you the number of the detective in charge,” I said.
“I’ve tried, but no one at the station will tell me anything. That’s why I thought I’d come and talk to you.”
“Well, it is an active case,” I reminded. “They don’t like the public knowing a lot while the investigation is ongoing. Helps the odds increase that the criminal is caught. It’s for everyone’s good.” Abby would be so proud of me when I told her about this interchange.
Honey finished gulping her half-gallon of water for the afternoon, and trotted back into the living room, but sat close to me this time. I scratched her shoulder as a reward for her good taste in not falling again into the nasty woman’s clutches.
“I’m sure you’re right.” Sandra reached for her purse. “But it would be such a treat if—”
And Honey leaped. She vaulted the coffee table, catching her left hind foot in the handle of the purse, and strewing the contents in every direction. Ultimately, all ninety pounds of her landed in Sandra’s lap.
I sighed. “You should have never used the word t-r-e-a-t,” I said, rising from my chair to remove Honey’s oversized Lab body from the woman’s lap. Then we both scrambled to retrieve the scattered items from the purse before the dog could grab any before we did. I handed over what I’d found, then wiped slobber from a lipstick and car keys, and I added them to the mix.
Sandra didn’t look quite so perfect anymore.
“I’d better go,” she said trying to brush white dog hair from her dark taupe slacks. “I believe my mother has something she wants me to do before my class tonight.”
I’m sure.
Aloud, I said, “Thank you for stopping by. It was wonderful meeting you and being able to put a name to a face.”
“Yes, yes,” she spoke absently, while double-checking the contents of her purse. “We’ll have to get together again.”
“Looking forward to it,” I lied, thrilled when I could shut the door behind her. I used both hands to dissipate the Obsession that hung around me, and turned on the pitiful ceiling fan in the living room, and didn’t even wonder why Sandra hadn’t mentioned it.
Honey followed me into the kitchen, and I took a piece of brie from the refrigerator. “You were such a good dog to get rid of the awful person. You deserve an extra special treat.”
Her tail said she completely agreed with me.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
FOR DINNER, WE HAD parmesan twice-baked potatoes I’d made ahead two weeks ago and frozen. Naturally, I hadn’t expected Abby as part of the household when I’d done my menu planning, but Dek was supposed to be home, so the numbers worked out perfectly. To that, I added small hamburger patties with garlic, and mixed the remaining ingredients of the previous night’s Cobb salad together and divided the goodies.
Our dinner entertainment was my regaling the troops with what happened when the Lofton daughter came to visit and didn’t know the one word that sent our Labrador retriever flying through the air toward her. When I got to the final comedic moment in the scene, Mac spewed potatoes all over Jamey’s sleeve. But Jamey was laughing so hard he didn’t care.
“So, Mackie, did you have fun with Aunt Abby today?” I asked, keeping the conversation going.
“Yeah, her mom said to call her Nana, and she gave me cake. But she kept wanting me to play outside, so she and Aunt Abby could talk. But there we
ren’t any toys in the backyard, so Aunt Abby went out with me and we played tag. Then Nana came out and Aunt Abby asked her to be Simon so we played Simon Says.”
I winked at Abby. She gave a goofy smile and a half-shrug in reply to her conniving afternoon.
Mac shoved another spoonful of deconstructed Cobb salad into his mouth. “This salad tastes great, no matter how it’s made.”
High praise from an almost six-year-old. Or as Mac put it, six-and-eleven-twelfths. I had no idea where he got the number, probably Jamey, but the boy was correct.
“That’s nice, sweetie,” I said. “But your mouth needs to be completely empty before you talk.”
As Jamey shoveled in another mouthful of potato, Abby said. “Didn’t you and your mom do some kind of science experiment today, Jamester?”
He nodded, swallowed and said, “It was for homework. I need to make something tomorrow from items anyone can find around their house. Everyone I’ve talked to is doing some kind of arts and crafts thing, but I thought I’d do a science project to be a little different. Mom helped a lot. I’m taking Oobleck and showing the kids how to make it.”
Abby’s face flashed a puzzled expression. “Oobleck?”
“Yeah, the name is from a Dr. Seuss book for a green gooey substance that fell from the sky. But we added blue food coloring instead to not confuse the kids,” Jamey explained.
“I’m still a little confused,” she said.
“Oobleck is a non-Newtonian fluid made from cornstarch and water,” Jamey replied. “It pours like any other liquid, but when an external force is applied to it, the fluid takes on solid characteristics.”
I took pity on Abby and gave her the layman’s explanation. “Remember the Big Bang Theory episode where the guys were using a subwoofer to make plastic-looking white stuff hop and dance? Then when they turned off the speaker the dancing stuff suddenly became a milky-looking liquid?”
“That’s Oobleck?”
I nodded. “That’s Oobleck.”
She gave Jamey a pat on the back. “That’s a wonderful project to take to school. The kids will love it.”