Serving Up Suspects
Page 18
Ivy laughed in a high-pitched giggle that grated like hard cheese. “That’s right,” she said with an irritating chirp. “Just let me tie on an apron and point me in the right direction.” She giggled again, which coming from this seventy-something-year-old woman, sounded like fingers on a blackboard. “I’ll cook up a storm.”
A storm was brewing in my head, but I smiled and kept my thoughts to myself. For now.
Ivy jumped out of her chair, surprisingly sprite for her age. Her phone clunked under her chair in her haste. Her problem, not mine, I decided. “I just remembered, I have something in my bag for you,” she said. “I’ll just run back inside and get it. Now, don’t you two run away!” She threw the last comment over her shoulder as casually as Rose threw crumbs to the seagulls.
It was no accident the inn couldn’t find her reservation. I’d bet that Ivy had planned this casual drop in all along. I glared at Rose, but she wasn’t meeting my eyes. That told me everything I needed to know—this was not a topic she wanted to discuss. I’d have to ignore her feelings. I had a say in who we offered our hospitality to now.
“What the heck is going on, Rose? Inviting her to stay here for a night while she finds other lodging is one thing, but two weeks? And helping in the diner?” My voice rose with every word. “You know I have a million things on my plate with Sue Ellen’s wedding next Saturday.”
Rose glanced toward the house. “Keep your voice down. Ivy is family, and I can’t turn her away… so, end of discussion.” She folded her arms over her chest for emphasis.
I wasn’t having it. “Are you sure?”
“Sure about what?”
Rose knew exactly what I meant, but I had no trouble spelling it out plain and clear. “Are you sure that Ivy is family? Someone with, what sounds like a phony accent, arrives at our door, and you welcome her with no questions asked?”
Before Rose could reply, Ivy’s sandals tapped on the patio stones. “So, I have some photos to share.” She handed a small photo album to Rose before she sat down. “It’s a collection of relatives I thought you might like to see.”
“How thoughtful of you, Ivy.”
I slid both legs off the lounge chair. “I’m going to the diner to give Lily a hand with the food prep for tomorrow. And, Sue Ellen is coming to finally choose which flavor she wants for her wedding cake. I’m sure there’s something I’ll be able to do while I keep weight off my ankle.”
I stood, trying not to grimace when I put a little weight on that leg. “It’s feeling so much better already.” I lied. “And, thanks for the offer to help at the diner, Ivy, but we’re all set.” I patted my thigh. “Come on, Pip. We’ll leave Rose and Ivy to their memories.”
“Okay,” Ivy piped in, happy as a lark. “If you change your mind, the offer’s still on the table.” She helped herself to a muffin from the tray on the patio table, slathering butter on at least an inch thick. Nothing like making herself right at home.
“Pour yourself tea, too, while I help Dani to the door. She’s putting on a good face about her ankle, but stubborn is her middle name,” Rose said as she took my arm and led me through the house to the front door.
I knew a lecture was coming, but I wasn’t going to back down.
She opened the door and walked outside with me until we were out of Ivy’s hearing range. Then she faced me with her look.
She narrowed her eyes and said, “Now that we’re alone, listen to me, Danielle. I’m not convinced about who Ivy is either, but unlike you, I’m keeping an open mind. I want her to think we believe her while we look into her background. I’d rather be safe than sorry. Being rude will only put her on guard.”
I’m sure my face turned every shade of red. “Oh,” I gulped. “I hadn’t thought about it that way.” Will I be as wise as Rose when I’m her age? “If she’s not who she says she is, Rose,” I asked thoroughly humbled, “why is she here?”
Now Rose looked a bit puzzled. She lifted her big straw hat, her signature accessory and shook it out before replacing it on her head. “Why indeed. I have a lot of the same questions as you—who is she, why is she here out of the blue, and why now? That’s what we’ll have to figure out. Now, scoot along so I can bond with my niece of a long-lost second cousin, twice removed or whatever confusing connection she said she is. Apparently, it’s easier for me to play along than it is for you.”
I didn’t need to be asked twice.
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About Emmie Lyn
Emmie Lyn shares her world with her husband, a rescue terrier named Underdog, and a black cat named Ziggy. When she’s not busy thinking of ways to kill off a character, she loves enjoying tea and chocolate in her flower garden, hiking, or spending time near the ocean.
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