2 On the Nickel

by Maggie Toussaint

  “Sounds good to me.”

  My hopes soared. I danced out of my seat. Once Britt knew about Eleanor’s money problems, he had to drop the charges against Mama. “Thanks, Charlie.”

  “I’ll be home a little before six tonight.”

  Not even dinner with Charlie could change how excited I felt. “See you then.”

  I called Britt’s cell number and told him the news.

  “I told you to stay out of this,” Britt said.

  I ignored his grumpy tone. “You arrested my mother. I can’t sit back and do nothing. She didn’t kill Erica Hodges. Eleanor has tons of motive.”

  “Motive isn’t everything. Eleanor doesn’t live here. How would she obtain Delilah’s car?”

  I hadn’t thought about that part. I ran a scenario in my mind that worked. “She’s a smart woman, and she’s been trained to conduct intricate, complicated procedures. I bet she followed Mama before the murder and learned Mama’s schedule. Mama is a creature of habit. Every Tuesday night is the same for her. She takes her friends to the hospitality committee meeting. Then she drives over to Bud’s house. Whoever planned this would have known that.”

  “Too farfetched. Even if I buy the concept, Eleanor didn’t have access to Delilah’s car keys. And no one hot-wired the car. You can’t convict on motive alone.”

  My theory sounded weak when he shot holes in it. “What about fingerprints in Mama’s car? Did you have any extra ones that didn’t belong?”

  “The driver’s side of the car only had Delilah’s prints.”

  I brightened. “I drove her car not too long ago. My prints should have been there. What if Eleanor broke into Mama’s car, killed her mother with it, then wiped her prints off?”

  Britt sighed heavily. “You’re making this up as you go along, aren’t you? There were no signs of forced entry to the Olds.”

  “Mama didn’t do it,” I asserted. “I swear she didn’t kill Erica.”

  “Her car was the murder weapon. We have solid proof.”

  “Someone else used her car. Besides, Mama has an alibi. She was with Bud Flook.”

  “She drove herself home. Alone. She had an opportunity to kill Erica.”

  “I know you think Mama is guilty, but her activities that night don’t sound like the agenda of an angry woman bent on murder.” I glanced into the outer office to make sure I was still alone. “Mama told me that they fell asleep afterward and that a phone call woke them up. If she was so relaxed and happy, why would she leave Bud’s place and run over Erica? It doesn’t follow.”

  “Bud got a call that night?”

  “Yeah. Mama said it was a wrong number.” I’d forgotten about that call until just now. “What if it was the right number? What if the killer needed Mama to get back in her car and drive home?”

  Britt sighed again. “I’ll check the phone records. If that leads anywhere, I’ll look into it as a favor to you. But I’m not dropping the charges against Delilah. Her car is the murder weapon.”

  “Then you should arrest her car. Not Mama.”

  “Are you finished? I have other cases to work on.”

  “You promise you’ll check on that call?”

  “Promise. Bye.”

  Progress. About damned time. That phone call was important. It had to be. Once Britt saw it, too, he’d drop the charges. Mama would get her life back. I’d get the deed to my house back and a shot at having a sex life again. Not bad for an afternoon’s work.

  * * * * *

  “How many places am I setting at the table?” Lexy asked.

  I’d commandeered the kitchen. After talking to Britt, I’d run out and bought a roast. I’d even made Charlie’s favorite sour cream mashed potatoes. Without his running the credit reports, I wouldn’t have cause to celebrate. He deserved a feast for helping.

  Back to Lexy’s question of how many place settings. There was an outside chance Rafe might take me up on my open-ended dinner invitation, but I didn’t want to count on it. If he came, we’d add a place for him. “Six. There’s the four of us, Bud Flook, and your father.”

  Lexy stared at me through a handful of forks. “Daddy’s coming to dinner? Here? At our house?”

  Sunny cheer infused me from head to toe. I was too happy to be mad at Charlie for insisting on dinner. “He asked if he could come. I said yes. It’s no big deal.”

  Lexy shook her head. Her brown eyes rounded. “It is a big deal. He’ll think you’ve forgiven him. Is that what happened? You’re going to marry him again?”

  “What’s this?” Charla came flying in the kitchen, her curly red hair springing in every direction. “You’re getting married?”

  I stirred the gravy. If you didn’t pay close attention to gravy making, inedible lumps formed. “I’m not getting married. I invited your father to dinner. That’s all.”

  Charla whooped for joy. Then she hugged me twice. She happily danced around the kitchen. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I knew you and Daddy would get back together.”

  I’d been so worried about Charlie’s reaction that I’d overlooked how the girls would view this. “We’re not together. I’m dating someone else now, remember?”

  “Rafe Golden,” Lexy said, as if Charla had forgotten.

  “But you’re not married to him,” Charla declared. “Daddy still has a chance.”

  Charla’s optimism rubbed me the wrong way. I put down my wooden spoon, moved the gravy pan off the burner, and faced her. “The chances of me getting back together with your father are zero. He cheated on me. He slept with another woman while he was married to me. That’s the worst kind of lying there is. I won’t ever forget the pain he caused me.”

  “He didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” Charla said loyally. “He told me so.”

  “He’s an adult and he knew what he was doing. I want you to have a good relationship with him, but you need to understand that our marriage is over and done with. Once trust is broken, it’s almost impossible to repair it.”

  “You didn’t say it was impossible,” Charla insisted. “There’s still hope.”

  My shoulders slumped. “Charla, wake up. I’m not the naive woman I used to be.”

  “That’s okay, Mom. Daddy’s not the man he used to be, either. He wants us back.”

  I raised my hand in protest. “It’s not going to happen. You aren’t listening to me. You are setting yourself up for a major disappointment.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Mom.” Charla flashed me a sparkling smile. “Nothing can be more disappointing than my parents getting divorced. I believe you guys will get back together again.”

  God save me from bright-eyed optimists. “Lexy? Do you understand?”

  She grabbed a handful of knives. She brushed her chin-length dark hair behind her ear. “I understand just fine. Daddy screwed up. He cheated on you. Now he’s alone, and it sucks to be him.”

  I patted her back, reassured I’d communicated the truth to someone. “Good girl.”

  Charla shot us both disapproving looks. “You spoilsport pessimists are all alike.”

  * * * * *

  If you didn’t count the seating arrangements, dinner went well. I’d put the men at opposite ends of the dining room table, thinking Charla and Lexy would sit beside their father while Mama and I flanked Bud Flook. Charla had other ideas. She’d snagged the seat by Bud, leaving the only open seat next to Charlie. Madonna lay next to the far wall where she could keep an eagle eye on me.

  I could have demanded Charla switch places with me, but I felt so good about today’s progress that I didn’t want to ruin the occasion by making a scene. I endured Charlie’s smug satisfaction through the main course. After bowls of mint chocolate chip ice cream, Charlie surprised Lexy with her digital camera.

  Her face lit up like Mama’s last birthday cake. She dashed over and jumped in his lap with youthful exuberance. “Thank you, Daddy.”

  I couldn’t remember Lexy acting so carefree and happy in recent months. Joy had been conspicuousl
y absent from her life these last two years. That realization stung. Our divorce had hurt the kids in ways I hadn’t realized. Tears misted my eyes, blurring my vision.

  Charlie had the gall to smile at me. As if I would fall for that dimple in his cheek. Not hardly. I collected the empty bowls and headed to the kitchen. Staying busy would keep the past at bay, keep the present safe.

  He followed me. “Would it be so bad, Cleo?”

  I shot him a frosty glance as I opened the dishwasher. “Not going to happen. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.”

  He stepped closer, trapping me between him and the sink and the dishwasher. His familiar scent filled my lungs. “I’m not giving up.”

  Headlights flashed on the kitchen window as a car pulled into the driveway. I stared him down. “You’re wasting your time,” I said.

  “I saw the longing in your face when Lexy saw her camera,” he said. “Admit it. For that moment, we were a family again.”

  It sucked that he was right. “I appreciate what you did for Lexy, but you can’t buy your way back into my good graces. It won’t work.”

  He touched my arm, caressing it lightly. “It will work. You’ll see.”

  At the sound of a brisk knock, I skirted around Charlie to answer the kitchen door. A large bouquet of wildflowers greeted me. I glanced through the fragrant blossoms to see the man I loved scowling at me. I reached for the flowers and his hand before he could turn away. “Rafe. How wonderful to see you. Wow. Flowers.”

  “Sorry I’m late. I got hung up at the course.” Rafe hovered on the stoop, indecision stamped on his angular face. “I didn’t realize you’d made other plans.”

  I glanced over my shoulder to see Charlie standing right behind me. He wasn’t going to mess this up for me. Not wanting to take a chance on Rafe getting away, I grabbed the front of his golf shirt and pulled him close for a hello kiss. “Please come in. I’ve got a ton of food. I’ll fix you a plate in a jiffy.”

  The men exchanged last names and eyed each other. The tension in the air escalated as if these two dogs were fighting over one bone. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Charlie,” I grumbled. “Go see if Lexy needs any help with the camera you bought her.”

  For once, Charlie obeyed.

  Rafe stuck his hands in his pockets while I loaded his plate with food. He sniffed appreciably. “Looks like someone went all out on dinner. All the food’s the right color.”

  “I cooked.” I smiled up at him, brimming with goodwill and cheerfulness now that we were alone. “We’re celebrating.”

  “Oh?”

  I stuck his covered plate in the microwave and poured him a glass of iced tea. “Charlie came up with a lead that might clear Mama. It seems that Eleanor—you remember perfect Eleanor?”

  Rafe smiled. “Child genius, prom queen, Virgin Mary–hogging Eleanor?”

  “Yeah. That Eleanor. Well, you’re never going to believe this. She’s broke. More than broke. She’s deeply in debt. So deep her clinic is gonna fold. We think she killed her mother to get her mother’s money, only her mother didn’t have any money. Perfect Eleanor isn’t so perfect after all. I called Britt, and he’s checking it out.”

  “Sounds good.” Rafe studied me.

  His close scrutiny worried me. Was this about Charlie being here? I thought we’d already cleared the air on that. “Would you like to eat in here or join the family in the dining room?”

  He shrugged. “Here’s fine. Dinner smells great.”

  I joined Rafe at the kitchen table. “Thanks. I’m glad someone appreciates my boring cooking.”

  “Tastes delicious,” Rafe said between bites. “I love your cooking.”

  Warmed by the compliment, I stuck my nose in the flowers and breathed deeply. The fresh scent reminded me of summer sunshine and carefree days. A smile welled up inside me. “I really appreciate the flowers. I can’t remember the last time anyone brought me flowers.”

  “Glad you like them. You look a lot drier than this morning.”

  “Ya think?”

  “Good to see you smile, Red.” He reached across the table for my hand and held it.

  I squeezed his hand in reassurance. “I’m fine. We’re fine.”

  “Are we? I keep tripping over your ex.”

  “Charlie wants you to think that, but there’s nothing there. I’m in love with you, Rafe Golden.”

  Rafe’s eyes heated, and he kissed the underside of my wrist. I shivered in delight. He cared. Boy, did he care. Joy spiraled through me.

  “Mom, have you seen my cheerleading shorts?” Charla burst into the kitchen at full speed, slowing to a crawl when she saw Rafe. “Oh. Hello.”

  “Hello,” Rafe said. He shoveled the last of his meal into his mouth.

  “My shorts. Mom, have you seen them?”

  If Rafe had come here expecting quiet time with me, he was in for a disappointment. Even so, I wouldn’t abandon him to search for Charla’s cheering duds. “Sorry, dear. I haven’t seen your shorts. Did you check the floor of your room?”

  “Not yet. Daddy said he’d drop me off at cheerleading practice tonight.”

  “Daddy seems to be scoring points all around today,” I said flippantly.

  Beside me, Rafe stiffened. I chewed my bottom lip. Why had I opened my big mouth? Even though we were dating, Rafe wasn’t family. That’s what I kept coming back to. Family. Charlie was scum as a husband, but because of our mutual love for our children, he was still family. Rafe wasn’t. But I hoped he would become family.

  “Daddy’s the greatest,” Charla said. “He’s getting me a laptop.”

  My mouth dropped. “He is?”

  “Yeah, but I have to share the color printer with Lexy.” Charla ran out of the kitchen.

  A laptop and a color printer. Charlie was letting out all the stops. The girls would think every day was Christmas around here.

  The kitchen door opened again. This time it was Lexy. “Mom, you and Mr. Golden want to play Monopoly with us?”

  I glanced at Rafe. He shrugged. I interpreted his gesture to mean why not. “Sure. We’ll both play. Give me a minute to put the food away.”

  “Okay. What piece would you like, Mr. Golden?”

  Rafe bit back a chuckle. “The car.”

  The door swung shut. “I hope it was all right to say you’d join us. We played a lot of board games . . .” I paused to find the right words. “When the girls were younger.”

  “I know Monopoly,” Rafe said, interlacing his fingers with mine. “It’s the one game my family mastered.”

  The dancing lights were back in his bedroom eyes. I didn’t know if it was because Charlie was leaving any minute now or because Rafe’s belly was full. Either way, harmony ruled my household again. I leaned over and kissed him.

  Rafe gave the kiss his full attention. My blood heated, and my thoughts ran wild. Would anyone notice if we did it in the laundry room? The kitchen door opened. I realized someone was watching us and broke off the kiss.

  Mama snorted from the doorway. “Just as I thought. Smooching in the kitchen. Bud, come in here and help me get this kitchen cleaned up. Otherwise we’ll be waiting all night on these love birds.”

  Love birds.

  Was that what we were?

  I clung to that thought for the rest of the evening.

  Chapter 14

  Jonette, Mama, and I stared in rapt fascination at the Washington Post spread out on the back corner booth of the Tavern. Jonette had turned up the lights because lunch was over and it was too soon for happy hour. With Dean away at his bartender convention, Jonette was running the place. She’d called us as soon as she’d opened the newspaper.

  “See what I mean?” Jonette tapped the black-and-white photo. Two men were hauling a gurney full of machines out of a door. Overhead, the weighty block letters proclaimed CRANDALL BRAIN CLINIC.

  “Looks like Britt’s got a new suspect all right.” I leaned close to read the fine newsprint. James Taylor’s song about friendshi
p faded as I digested the article. According to the reporter, the prominent Crandall Brain Clinic in Washington, D.C., was kaput. One of the partners had skipped the country. The remaining partner, Dr. Eleanor Hodges, couldn’t be reached by press time.

  “Hot damn! I might get to see my grandchildren grow up after all.” Mama raised her arms in a victory salute, straining the fabric and the buttons of her pink jacket.

  “Don’t get too excited, Mama,” I cautioned. “We still don’t know if Eleanor was in town that night, or if she would know how to break into your car and start it without a key.”

  Mama toyed with her pearl necklace. “I wasn’t completely honest about this before, but that night I left the car unlocked with my keys in the ignition. Bud’s house is off by itself. I didn’t think anyone would even know the keys were in there. Eleanor didn’t need any criminal skills to borrow my car.”

  I was appalled. “Mama, why didn’t you tell us this before?”

  “Because I didn’t want another lecture from you about leaving my keys in the car. I left them in the car for a reason. It takes too long to hunt them up in the dark.”

  I couldn’t believe she didn’t grasp the importance of the information she’d withheld. I reached over and grabbed her by the shoulders. “You would’ve gone to jail rather than tell anyone you left the keys in your car?”

  Mama scooted out of my grip. “I wouldn’t let it go that far. I’d rather have a lecture from you than serve a prison term. I didn’t mention the keys before because I didn’t want anyone to know I’d been over at Bud’s house. Then when I did tell you about Bud, I forgot to tell you about the keys. I’m a senior. I’m allowed to be forgetful.”

  “Don’t move.” I whipped my cell phone out of my pocket book and dialed Britt. He answered on the first ring. “Radcliff.”

  “Did you see the Washington Post?” I asked.

  “Got it here in front of me. Just got off the phone with the reporter who wrote the story. You were right about Eleanor Hodges. She’s in serious financial trouble.”