“Because you let Tom talk you into being a housewife instead of a businesswoman.”
“God, he was always such a smooth talker. He’s just that good.”
“That only works to a point. You aren’t buying it anymore. Be patient, okay? Tom will get his.”
“I’m supposed to go to that office every day and work with that . . .”
Denton shrugged. “You don’t have to. It’s Christmas. Give yourself a break for the holidays.”
“Some holiday.”
“In the meantime try not to break your mother’s heart. Things will turn. For the better.”
“I’m not hiding. If I’m staying with the company, then I’ll show up every day. I’m not going to let him run me off.”
She sank into a chair. They listened to the drip of coffee filling the pot.
“What was she like?”
“Sadie? I’m uncomfortable discussing her with you.”
Her chin tilted. “I want to know. You lived there, in the apartment building.”
Denton scrubbed a hand over his face and leaned against the doorjamb. “I can’t tell you she was evil. She was a nice lady. Had a lot of hang-ups. Some bad things happened to her earlier in life, which is probably the reason she settled for Tom. She was also an intelligent woman. So, like you, I don’t understand why she settled for him.”
“Couldn’t you have told me she was evil and ugly?”
Denton chuckled.
“I know Tom resented Dad and his influence in the company. He probably hated me, too.”
You don’t know how much, Denton wanted to say, but instead he said, “But that’s Tom’s problem, not yours.”
“Lester was killed this morning,” Trait said. He dropped by the apartment around two.
“What happened?” Quilla asked.
“He was crossing the street.”
Three days before Christmas and the man who tried to kill her was dead. She didn’t understand why he had wanted to kill her in the first place. She wondered if she would ever discover why.
Lester Graves.
“When we checked his house, he had a cache of stolen jewelry,” Trait continued. “He also had the name of the pawnshop he sold the pieces to. But when we raided the pawnshop, the owner claimed he never saw the really pricey items, only the smaller, less expensive ones. The larger pieces were obviously sold elsewhere. And although the place was scoured with a fine-tooth comb, he claimed there weren’t any other stolen items. Of course, it would take weeks to go through it all.”
“But that doesn’t explain why he wanted to kill me. I don’t have expensive jewels. I couldn’t identify him and he knew it because I saw him several times after the murder. So taking the chance on killing me makes no sense.”
“He was carrying the gun that was used in both your shooting and Sadie’s.”
“But he’s seen me since I saw him leaning over Sadie’s body, and I couldn’t identify him. And he knew that. So why come after me? I wasn’t a threat.”
“He probably thought something might eventually jog your memory. Who knows? The important thing is he’s off the streets.”
Trait left and Quilla called Denton.
“Well, at least the murder is solved,” she said. “Christmas is coming and I have tons of shopping to do.”
“I still want you to be cautious. I’m not convinced he was working alone,” Denton said. “I still want you to take Irving with you.”
“Nag, nag, nag.” But she was laughing when she hung up and went in search of her shopping list.
With Irving and Lucky in tow, Quilla sat out. When she stepped outside she inhaled a deep breath, sucking in the chilly air. She was so grateful to be outside again that the person who jostled her as she hurried past didn’t bother her in the least. She felt as if she’d been released from prison.
“We’re going to stand in one spot all day?” Irving asked impatiently.
She started walking toward King Street. “Isn’t it wonderful?” Quilla asked.
Irving glanced at the foot traffic rushing about. “It’s overcast, and there’s too many people. What’s so wonderful about it?”
“I’m not going to let you put a damper on my good mood. Come on, Lucky. We’re happy, at least.”
Her first stop was by the dog shop. It was busy with customers purchasing last-minute gifts on their way out of town. Her father was fitting a rhinestone collar around a dog’s neck while he talked the woman into buying a plush doggy bed and a nice winter coat to go along with a couple of bags of treats.
Quilla shook her head. He was a better salesperson than she.
When the woman walked out with her packages, Quilla said, “You should have been a salesman.”
“Always thought so,” he said before a scowl matching Irving’s clouded his face. “What’re you doing out?”
“They caught Lester and I’m going shopping. Looks like you’re okay here.”
“Go on. We’re fine.”
The lights were bright and the atmosphere was festive. The streets were teeming with people rushing from one store to the next or dashing out of offices for quick shopping spurts.
Quilla had already purchased and mailed gifts for Aunt Ruby, her husband, and her cousin Jewel. But now that her dad had reappeared in her life, she added him to her list. Not to mention Denton. And that was a tricky one. She didn’t know enough about him. She’d have to get Irving something, too. He glanced about, perusing the crowd as if he expected someone to jump out and attack her.
“Relax, will you?”
He grunted. “Let’s get the shopping done so we can get you back inside.”
She knew she could call stores and leave her credit card number and have someone pick the gifts up, but she wanted to shop. She wanted to get out into the fresh air. She wanted to walk into Bread and Chocolate and order a bowl of soup for lunch, then sit long enough to enjoy it. She wanted to experience the reason she moved to Old Town in the first place.
A festive atmosphere enveloped everything. There were gaily decorated trees, and white lights on trees and light poles on the street. There were wreaths on doors and snow paint in store windows. Irving stayed outside, so Quilla would hand Lucky’s leash to him when she entered the small shops to browse. He’d look like a thundercloud when she returned, while Lucky was enjoying the flow of people who admired her as they passed.
“Mr. Scrooge’s day with Lucky,” Quilla teased.
It took her two hours to find her gifts.
Quilla couldn’t stand the idea of going back into that dreary apartment. She wanted to be in her shop, greeting her customers and their pets by name.
When she returned to the store, her father looked as if he was having a good time. He bent over to pat a dog, gave her a treat, then he went behind the counter to dish up the order.
When the dog saw Quilla it came charging over to her.
“You remember me,” Quilla said, bending to pat her.
“She’s not likely to forget the hand that feeds her,” the owner said. She was one of the ladies from the animal shelter who had attended Sadie’s wake.
“I’m so glad you’re back. How are you?”
“Improving.”
Quilla stayed for a few moments and picked out a holiday blanket, a collar, a bone, a squeaky toy, and a bag of treats for Lucky. Up in her apartment, she just had to try it on the dog. Many Pomeranians didn’t like blankets, but Lucky was accustomed to them. Sadie always dressed her for the cold.
Irving looked at the dog and shook his head. “Ever wonder why she has that thick coat of fur?”
“Lucky’s used to being coddled.”
Irving shook his head again.
Lucky was plodding along beside her as they made their way to Denton’s place. Quilla was depressed again. And that wasn’t like her. It was often said that the spirits sometimes plummeted during the holidays. But she was usually buoyed by the extra business.
“A tree,” Quilla finally said, stopping in the
middle of the street.
“What?” Irving looked at her as if she’d lost her mind.
“I can’t stand it. I have to have a Christmas tree.”
“People buy trees in early to mid December. Most don’t wait till three days before Christmas.”
“I should have thought of it before. Don’t those walls drive you crazy? Don’t you want to look at a festive tree instead of a dreary apartment?” They backtracked to her apartment and she sent Irving to the attic (she couldn’t be expected to drag down boxes, after all) for the decorations. And her spirits soared again.
They stashed the box in Denton’s apartment. Irving drove his SUV out of the garage and they went from lot to lot searching for the perfect tree. Not very many promising ones were left and the prices had been hiked. She found a reasonably priced one that was full and pretty near the old neighborhood.
Back at the apartment, Quilla looked on as Irving dragged the tree inside. Lucky was happy snuggled in Quilla’s arms.
Lucky watched eagerly while they decorated the tree with lights and ornaments.
It was almost midnight when Denton came home and he looked every bit as exhausted as the hours warranted. Irving had stayed with Quilla until he arrived. Quilla would have to insist on paying him. She was sure her father couldn’t stand the strain on his pension. But after a shower and a bowl of clam chowder, Denton had revived.
“So how was your day?”
“Long.”
“At this rate, you’ll be working Christmas Day.”
“Unfortunately.” Then he smiled a wicked smile.
Quilla sat up straighter. “What?”
“My shirt looks better on you than it does on me.”
Quilla looked down at the shirt she wore. It was several sizes too big, but it was warm and comfortable.
“We need to toast the tree.”
“You like?”
“Very much.” Gently he dragged her in front of it and began to peel off her clothes.
“What are you doing?”
“Toasting the tree.”
And there in front of the tree, they made love on the floor with the twinkling lights casting odd images over their bodies.
The next morning Quilla opened the door to admit Loretta. It was time for her to move back to her own place, but each day when she broached the topic, Denton said not yet. She didn’t understand her reluctance to move.
It must be the Christmas tree, Quilla reasoned. She didn’t have a tree in her place. And she liked decorations during the holidays. She waited in the hallway for Loretta, who was dressed in black jeans and a green sweater.
They spent the last two days packing up Sadie’s things. Most of her clothing was packed away for charity. Some was going to women trying to re-enter the workforce. Loretta picked out a few things she was having shipped back to Memphis.
“I’m leaving today,” she said as Quilla closed the door after her.
“You have to get back to your family.”
She nodded. “I want to thank you for all your help and for keeping Sadie’s dog.”
“I wish I could have done more.” Quilla wanted to broach the subject of her parentage.
She pulled a card out of her pocket and extended it to Quilla. “I wrote my address and phone number down so you’ll know where to send the diary.”
“I’ve been reading the diary and . . . I don’t even know if I should tell you.”
“Sadie was my mother.”
Quilla’s mouth dropped open. “You knew?”
“She told me two years ago after my . . . I still think of Sadie’s mother as my mother because she raised me. And my brothers as my brothers instead of my uncles. We grew up as sister and brothers. Sadie was more like an aunt, although we grew closer after she told me.”
“I don’t think it was easy for her to give you up.”
“I guess she did what she felt she had to. Who knows?”
“I appreciate your letting me keep the book for a while.”
Loretta stood and hugged Quilla. “Thanks again.” And then she left.
Chapter 17
“Merry Christmas,” Quilla said when Denton tightened his arms around her.
Denton stretched and put his hands behind his head. “It is.”
“You don’t usually sleep this late.”
“Even I get to be lazy one day out of the year,” he said, then the cell phone rang.
“Don’t get it.” Quilla couldn’t believe they were calling him Christmas morning.
“Sorry. Can’t ignore it.”
Denton looked at the number, then put the phone to his ear.
“Merry Christmas, son.”
“You, too, Mom.”
“I hate that you have to spend the holidays alone.”
“I won’t be alone,” he said, sitting completely up. “I’m having dinner with a friend.”
“That’s good, at least.”
“How’s Dad?”
“He’s well.”
“Grandma and everyone else?”
“They miss you.”
While Denton was on the phone, Quilla got up and padded to the living room, where she placed his gift under the tree among the others.
Her dad had invited them to his home for Christmas dinner at two. She still had mixed feelings about Joyce. She seemed to be a nice lady, except. . . she wasn’t Mama.
Although her dad assured her she didn’t have to bring anything, she’d told him she was bringing a broccoli casserole and candied yams. She even solicited Irving’s help in peeling and in completing chores too difficult for her.
Quilla started the coffee brewing and took the juice out of the fridge. She carefully set it down and had gathered two glasses when Denton approached her from behind and kissed her neck. Quilla felt comforted and warm with his arms around her.
“I told my mother I was going to call her this evening and let her talk to someone special.”
“Am I special?”
“I want you to meet my family.”
He nicely eluded her question. Where was this leading?
He handed her a small box in red wrapping paper with a tiny bow on top and kissed her. “Merry Christmas.”
“Oh, thank you. You were so busy I didn’t think you had time to shop.”
“I took the time.”
“I have something for you, too.” Quilla dashed away and retrieved the gift from under the tree and handed it over. Quilla opened hers to a beautiful diamond bracelet.
“It’s absolutely gorgeous,” Quilla exclaimed.
He opened his, and after he exclaimed and kissed her tenderly for the gift, he said, “I need another present.”
He bent his head and kissed Quilla. Then he lifted her up and carried her to the bedroom. It was another hour before they surfaced from beneath the covers.
The three men met after the gifts were open and while their wives made preparations for the holiday dinner. Actually Tom had nowhere to go now that Wendy had tossed him out. His parents had moved to Texas.
Tom was staying in a hotel and the men met in the bar. Bars were always open, even during Christmas.
“Why don’t you come by my place?” Sidney asked.
“I’m expecting a call any day now. I’m keeping myself available.”
“You have a cell phone. They can reach you anywhere,” Sidney said.
Tom shook his head. “I appreciate the offer.”
“If things turn out the way we anticipate, this is going to be the best holiday yet,” Sidney said with a wide grin.
But Tom couldn’t find out where the problem existed with the last equipment he shipped. He was using another export route this time.
For the first time, he noticed Edward wasn’t smiling the way Sidney was. He took a swallow of his whiskey and looked over the rim of the glass at Tom. “So is your dilemma with the in-laws going to present a problem for us? I’m surprised George didn’t kick your butt out the door.”
“So am I. He gives the b
itch anything she wants. But we are marketing a new product. It’s not the best time to change management.”
“George could run the place. So can your VP. It’s not like the company can’t run without you. So why is he keeping you?”
“Not my worry,” Tom said with self-confidence he wasn’t feeling. That missing shipment worried him. Was it possible George had found out and put someone in to check up on him?
Edward shook his head, downed the last of the liquor in his glass, then asked for a refill.
“You better take it easy with that,” Tom said. “You still have to get through the rest of the day with your in-laws.”
“Since when do I need your advice?”
The bartender refilled his glass and went back to the bar.
Tom held up both hands. “No offense. Just a suggestion.”
But Edward wasn’t finished. “You think you can do whatever you want and get away with it, don’t you?”
“You got a beef with Tom?” Sidney asked, looking worriedly at Edward.
“Yeah. I got a beef.” He took another slug of his drink.
“What’s up with you two?”
“He’s been fooling around with Melissa, that’s what.”
Sidney glanced at Tom. “No . . .”
“I just beat it out of her. I got suspicious, you see, when I couldn’t reach her at certain times. I followed her. I saw you come out of the hotel, and minutes later she left.” Edward stared at Tom while he defiantly swallowed more whiskey.
“No . . .”
“She won’t be so pretty the next time you take her to that hotel. As a matter of fact, I don’t think she’ll be too welcoming. Her face isn’t so pretty right now. You wouldn’t want her, anyway. Right, Tom? You only go after the perfect ones.”
“Is that true, Tom? You’ve been screwing around with his woman?” Sidney asked.
Tom swallowed his own drink. “She’s just a whore, Edward. We’re friends. We can’t fall out over some woman. It’s not like she’s your wife.”
Sidney looked from one man to the next. “But still, Melissa is his woman.”
“You should have told your friend here to keep it in his pants. He’s screwed up with his wife, our meal ticket. The old man can toss him out on his ass anytime he wants to. And we know something’s going down. He doesn’t need you. Wendy can do better without you. You aren’t as hot as you think you are, lover boy.”
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