Dead, Bath, and Beyond

Home > Other > Dead, Bath, and Beyond > Page 20
Dead, Bath, and Beyond Page 20

by Lorraine Bartlett


  Katie mused over that idea as she walked. Did Artisans Alley have an aim? Was there a clear-cut goal, other than to make money? Maybe what she needed to do was write up an official mission statement. Maybe that would help bring everyone together and—

  “Oh!” She almost ran smack into Gwen Hardy, who was standing in front of her booth. “I’m sorry, Gwen. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. I was thinking, and . . .” She stopped talking, because it was obvious that Gwen wasn’t paying much attention, either. “Um, are you okay?”

  Gwen, who hadn’t moved, continued to stare off into space. “It’s a beautiful day,” she said softly.

  “It certainly is.” She’d spoken heartily, and Katie winced as she felt her own echoes come back around. “It’s a crime to be inside on a day like this.”

  “A crime,” Gwen repeated.

  “Yes.” Katie studied the pale woman. For the umpteenth time, she wondered how someone who was a big boater managed to keep her skin away from the sun. Then she decided, what the heck, and asked, “You go out boating a lot, don’t you? Your skin doesn’t show it at all.”

  Gwen looked at the back of her hands. Then she looked at Katie, and to Katie’s horror, tears started streaming down the other woman’s face. This was the third person in two days who’d started crying in front of her; if this didn’t stop soon she was going to crawl into bed and not get out for a week.

  “Let’s sit down,” Katie suggested. She took Gwen’s elbow and led her into her own booth, where an upholstered chaise was tastefully draped with woven lap blankets. Katie heaped the blankets onto a nearby table, and they sat down. “Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?” she asked.

  Gwen, who had by now fished a tissue from one of her apron pockets and was wiping her eyes, shook her head. “Not really, though I suppose I owe you an explanation for breaking down like this. I thought I would be okay, but . . .” She sighed.

  “What’s the matter?” Katie pressed gently. This had to do with the boat. The boats that had been lurking at the back of Josh’s murder. Maybe she’d finally get a solid lead.

  “It’s our boat.” Gwen dabbed at another tear. “Or, actually, it’s my husband.”

  Katie leaned the slightest bit forward. “Yes?” Was she about to hear a confession? Was Ray around? If anyone should hear a murder confession, it should be a former police detective.

  “He has arthritis,” Gwen said, sighing. “Horrible, debilitating arthritis.”

  It was a disease Katie had experience with. Her aunt Lizzie had suffered from it, dealing with enlarged knuckles and frozen joints. She shuddered and offered up a hope that arthritis wasn’t in her own personal future. “I’m so sorry.”

  Gwen nodded. “Thanks. It’s awful. He’s still able to work—he’s sales manager at the Chrysler dealership out by the mall—but he can’t get out on the boat anymore. He loves to sail. We love to sail. It’s what brought us together, all those years ago, and now . . . now . . . we’re going to have to sell the boat.”

  Her voice was so low that Katie could hardly make out the words. “I can’t sail it alone,” Gwen said, “and I won’t sail it without him. It would be too hard for both of us. Labor Day was our last time out. It was such a nice day, remember?” She gave a tremulous smile. “A lot like today.”

  Katie wasn’t a die-hard sailor by any means, but she could imagine how hard it must be to be forced to give up something you loved to do. She murmured her sympathies and patted Gwen on the shoulder, saying to let her know if there was anything she could do.

  “Thanks, Katie,” Gwen said. “You’re a good friend.”

  The good friend felt a little ashamed of herself as she finished her round of the sales floor. Katie had theorized that Gwen might have had something to do with Josh’s death because of an odd reaction to the mention of boats, but the reaction had had absolutely nothing to do with Josh.

  If Katie had figured wrong about Gwen, what other mistakes was she making?

  The morning was as busy as Katie had hoped. She thought again how much she was looking forward to having a complete year’s worth of sales data so she could begin comparisons. Yes, she was at heart a retail geek and didn’t care who knew it.

  About two o’clock there was a lull in the action. Katie turned to Edie, who’d been working with her. “Are you okay alone for a half hour or so?”

  “Me? Sure thing.” Edie nodded. “You’ve been stuck inside all day. Get out in that sunshine and fresh air and hunt yourself down some lunch. You must be starving.”

  “I am, actually.” It had been easy to ignore her hunger with a line of customers at the register, but now the gnawing pangs were getting downright uncomfortable. “If you need anything, I’ll have my phone.”

  Edie waved her away, and in short order, Katie had grabbed her purse from her office and was on her way across the Square to talk to Andy. Their lunch the day before had been so short, due to yet another frantic phone call from Andy’s assistant manager, that she’d hardly had time to tell him about Erikka, let alone ask him why he’d stopped at Artisans Alley that morning.

  She’d hung around the pizzeria after dinner, lending a hand whenever it was needed and planning to talk to Andy when things slowed down, but before that could happen, fatigue from events of the long day caught up with her, and she made her way upstairs and crawled into bed before ten o’clock.

  But today was a fresh new day, and she was determined to figure out what was going on with her boyfriend. Because something was going on; she’d known him long enough and well enough to know that for a fact. Though Andy was by no means a touch-feely kind of guy, he had a knack for sensing her moods and was great at helping her talk through problems.

  The reverse was not so true. Guylike, he preferred to ignore his own emotions. Katie hated when he did that and was continually working to get him to open up. Sometimes she was successful, and sometimes she wasn’t. Today, though, on this beautiful, sunshiny afternoon, it was going to work. She’d ask the right question in the right way, he would thoughtfully respond, music would start playing, and their relationship would move to a new and deeper level.

  At least that’s what she hoped.

  Mentally crossing her fingers, she opened the door to Angelo’s and walked inside. She wasn’t even all the way across the threshold when her hopes were dashed to bits.

  “Now?” Andy was practically shouting. “You’re quitting now? On a Saturday?”

  She heard a low mumble, then Andy said, “What happened to a two weeks’ notice? What happened to common courtesy? What happened to a little bit of loyalty to the guy who gave you a hand when you needed it?”

  The low voice said a few more words, then came Andy’s voice again, even louder. “I don’t care what that company is willing to give you. I can’t afford to pay you twenty percent more. And right now I wouldn’t even if I could!”

  Katie winced.

  “Fine!” Andy shouted. “I’ll take that as your resignation.”

  Fast footsteps approached, and then Katie gasped to see Jim, the assistant manager that Andy had been depending on for months, march out of the back room, around the counter, through the lobby, and out the front door without a single glance in her direction.

  “Oh no,” she breathed. What was Andy going to do without an assistant manager? Even with that help he was working too hard, making his cinnamon buns in the morning and pizza and everything else from noon to close.

  Andy stormed out into the shop, his face still red. When he saw her standing there, he asked fiercely, “Did you hear that? Did you see?”

  “I did and I’m so sorry. You had high hopes for Jim, didn’t you?”

  He ignored the question. “That Erikka you were talking about at lunch yesterday. Is she any good?”

  “She had my old job,” Katie said. “Which means she has to be computer literate, org
anized, and able to deal with unhappy clients.”

  “Sounds perfect. Can you tell her to get over here pronto?”

  “Sure, I have her—”

  “Great. Thanks. I’ve got dough to finish making,” he said and charged for the back room. Instead of the calzone she’d been thinking about, Katie decided to grab something from Tanner’s bakery. The last thing Andy needed right now was another order. She still hadn’t heard why he’d stopped by Artisans Alley days before and wondered if she ever would.

  Katie sent a text to Erikka, telling her that Andy wanted to interview her right then and there if she could make it to Angelo’s as soon as possible.

  “On it!” Erikka texted back, with a huge smiley face following.

  With that done, Katie pocketed her phone and went across the Square to Tanner’s to see what they might have on hand for a quick lunch.

  She ended up with a big muffin and an apple and thought that would do the trick, but by late afternoon it became obvious that she hadn’t eaten enough. She also wasn’t sure what she’d have for dinner. Usually, she and Andy ate something from the pizzeria up in her apartment, while Jim took care of things downstairs, but without Jim, she was pretty sure that scenario wasn’t going to happen.

  “Um, Ms. Bonner?”

  Katie looked up from the blown glass hummingbird feeder she was gift wrapping for a customer and saw Sadie and Sasha Davenport standing in front of her. “Hello, girls. What can I do for you?”

  The sisters looked at each other. Sadie nudged Sasha, who said, “Well, we were just wondering . . .” She ran out of words and looked at her sister imploringly.

  Sadie rolled her eyes at her sibling and said, “We wondered if you’d like to have dinner at our house tonight. I know it’s short notice,” she added quickly, “but still, we thought it would be fun if you came over.”

  “Tonight?” Katie taped down the end of the package and reached for a ribbon. “Well, to tell you the truth, I don’t have any solid plans.”

  “Come to our house,” Sadie said, practically jumping up and down. “It’ll be like a real dinner party. Our first ever.”

  “Please say you’ll come,” Sasha begged, holding her hands together in an attitude of prayer. “Please, please, please.”

  Katie laughed, charmed by the girls’ enthusiasm. “Since you said please . . .”

  The girls clapped with pleasure. “We’ll eat at seven,” Sasha said, “if that’s all right with you. Are you okay with chicken?”

  “And allergies,” Sadie said suddenly. “Do you have any allergies? Or any of those diet things so many worry about?”

  Katie assured them that chicken would be wonderful and that she had no dietary restrictions. “What would you like me to bring?” she asked. “And don’t say nothing. A proper dinner guest always brings something.”

  They settled on a loaf of fresh bread from the bakery, and the girls ran off, full of chatter about all the things they needed to do.

  Smiling, Katie sent Andy a text: “Headed to a friend’s house for dinner. Hope that’s OK with you. Come up after close, OK?”

  She returned her phone into her pocket and went on with the wrapping, hoping that Andy found some new employees sooner rather than later. Having Angelo’s short-staffed was wreaking havoc on her love life.

  Katie parked at the curb in front of the address Sadie had given her. It was a tidy, cream-colored bungalow in a neighborhood of other tidy bungalows. The neighborhood had a settled, comfortable feel, but the lots were tiny and the houses close together. Katie could see why Ray would want to move out of the rental and into a place with room to stretch out.

  She’d barely set foot on the porch when the front door was whipped open.

  “Katie, you’re here!” Sadie ran to greet her and tugged her toward the front door. “Come on in! We’re almost ready. The chicken just needs a few more minutes in the oven. Oh, thanks for the bread. I’ll get that into the kitchen. Sasha is finishing the salad. Do you want sour cream with your baked potato? I love sour cream. Sophie—you remember our older sister, Sophie? She says serving sour cream at a dinner party is just way uncool, but since she’s not here, we’re going to do whatever we want.”

  The nonstop narrative carried them through the entryway and into the small living room. “Dad just came back from Wood U,” Sadie said. “He’s washing up and should be here any second. Are you okay waiting by yourself?”

  “I’m fine.” Katie smiled. “Do you need any help in the kitchen? Or the dining room?” She nodded toward the closed door, behind which she assumed was the dining room.

  “Oh no, no, no.” Sadie put out her hands in full stop mode. “That’s the last thing we want. You just stay here, okay?” She backed toward the door. “Dad’s upstairs. When he comes down, then you both can come in, okay?”

  “Sure,” Katie said. “But I hope he doesn’t take long. From what I can smell of dinner, it’s going to be delicious.”

  Sadie flashed her a quick smile, opened the door a tiny amount, eeled through it, and was gone.

  Still smiling, Katie shook her head. Had she ever been that young? So nervous about having someone over to dinner? She turned and started a casual inspection of the living room but hardly got farther than a quick glance at the pictures on the fireplace mantel when she heard footsteps on the stairway.

  “Katie?” Ray looked casually dressed in a polo shirt and jeans, but he also looked genuinely startled and gave her a frown. “What are you doing here?”

  “What am I doing here?” Katie returned his frown, and then some. “Your daughters invited me. Didn’t you know?”

  He made a low, growling noise, then said, “All I know is they said they had a surprise for dinner.”

  They gazed at each other for a moment. “I’m getting a funny feeling about this,” Katie said slowly.

  “You and me both. And it’s time to figure out what’s going on.” He took three strong steps and was at the door to the dining room. Wrenching it open, he shouted, “Sadie! Sash—” and then his voice stuck.

  “What’s the matter?” Katie hurried to his side. “Are they—” And then her voice got stuck, too. She took in the scene before her and swallowed, then swallowed again and said, “What are we going to do about this little situation?”

  A perturbed Ray heaved a huge sigh. “I have no idea.”

  Katie opened a beer for Andy, poured it into a glass, then poured a glass of wine for herself. She tried to hand Andy’s glass to him, but he was staring at her, openmouthed.

  “They’d done what?” he asked.

  She pushed the glass into his hand and waited until his instinctive reactions kicked in, forcing him to hold on to the beverage, before she said, “Sadie and Sasha cooked up a romantic dinner for Ray and me. They’d used a linen tablecloth, the best china in the house, lit candles, the whole thing. The food was sitting on platters, steaming hot, and there were only two places set.”

  Andy downed a huge slug of beer, then asked in a flat tone, “What did you do?”

  Laughing, Katie said, “I didn’t do anything at first. Their dad, however, steamed straight into the kitchen, ready to give them the tongue-lashing of their lives.”

  “And?”

  “They were already gone.” Katie laughed again. “They must have put the food on the table and hightailed it out of the house, hoping their efforts would work.”

  “And did they?” Andy asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

  She reached out to touch his glass with hers, creating a slight tinking noise. “If their goal was to make their father so angry that his face turned almost purple, then sure, it worked. And if another goal was to make me remember how manipulative teenaged girls can be, then that worked, too.”

  “Why would they do something like that?” Andy asked.

  “That’s what Ray kept muttering,” Katie sa
id, amused. “I told him to be grateful he had daughters that were so concerned about his emotional well-being that they’d go to such lengths to get him a girlfriend.”

  “Didn’t his wife die just a year ago?” Andy eyed her. “Seems a little weird those kids would be so interested in finding a stepmother at all, let alone so soon after their mom died.”

  Katie shrugged. She’d asked the same question of Ray and then heard a little more than she’d wanted to know about his deceased wife. “Sounds as if she may have been a contender for sainthood.”

  “So what did you do?” Andy rotated his glass and didn’t look at her. “With the room set for romance and all. Did you sit down and eat?”

  “Oh, we ate.” Katie smiled. “But we piled it on plates and ate it in front of the television, Ray in his big recliner and me on the couch. He’s a big fan of Syracuse football, so we watched them play Wake Forest and then I came home.”

  She looked at Andy, who didn’t seem to be finding the foiled matchmaking episode nearly as funny as she did. “Are you okay? You seem a little out of sorts.”

  “Just busy,” he said. “By the way, that Erikka you sent over is working out great. So thanks for that.”

  “I’m glad.” And she was. Erikka would need an additional source of income, but at least she’d be getting some sort of paycheck.

  Andy yawned. “Busy and tired,” he said and stood. “I think I’ll head home.”

  “Oh.” Katie blinked. He hadn’t even finished his beer. “Um, okay.” She’d planned on staying up late with him, maybe watching an old movie, but he did look worn-out. She walked him to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He gave her a quick hug and a kiss, and she closed the door behind him.

 

‹ Prev