A Frying Shame

by Linda Reilly

  Talia couldn’t help thinking that if Harry had won the contest, the award money would have been most timely. He desperately wanted to buy the failing restaurant. A twenty-five-thousand-dollar cash prize would have given him a tidy boost toward a down payment. Was that why he’d entered the competition?

  “Now, it does need an electrical upgrade,” Harry admitted, “but otherwise it’s not in bad shape. And there’s a huge parking lot in the back, which is a definite plus.” His shoulders slumped. “The problem, of course, is the money.” He waved a hand at the realty office’s colorless walls. “These days we’re not exactly rolling in it.”

  Talia couldn’t help wondering if Harry had shared his vision with his overly critical wife. “Let’s say the money weren’t an issue, Harry,” she said quietly. “Would Sandra be on board with it?”

  “Oh, heavens, I wouldn’t dream of telling any of this to Sandra. Not until it was a done deal.”

  Out front, a car door slammed. Talia craned her neck and peered through the storefront window. An older-model Grand Marquis, similar to the one her dad used to drive, had parked directly in front.

  “Oh God, that’s her.” Harry wrung his hands in his lap. “Please don’t tell her what we talked about, okay? She’d slice my head off and serve it up for brunch on a bed of parsley.”

  Talia gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “No worries, Harry. My lips are sealed.” How many times had she said that lately?

  “And thanks for letting me vent, Talia. I don’t normally have anyone to talk to, and—“

  The glass door flew open, dispensing a whoosh of warm air. Sandra Summers sashayed into the office, her blond hair gelled into a helmet of soft curls. The style might have been attractive on her if it hadn’t been so obviously glued to her head. She rubbed a hand over the back of her neck and then stopped short.

  When she saw Talia, she pursed her lips into a lemon-sucking frown. And then, apparently rethinking her bad manners, she pasted on a smile so fake it looked as if she’d popped it out of one of those new 3-D printers.

  “Well, I see we have a visitor,” she said, shooting a dark look at Harry. “Not surprising, of course. Handsome Harry here always attracts the pretty ones.” She tossed her purse onto an adjacent desk—her own, apparently—then plunked down into her swivel chair and kicked off her stylish pink espadrilles. “Of course, it’s even better if the pretty one is looking to buy a house. I don’t suppose you are?” she said.

  Talia forced a pretend smile. Her intense dislike of the woman was growing by leaps and bounds, as her dad would say. “Sorry. I’m not looking to buy. Not right now, anyway.”

  All at once, a flash of recognition crossed Sandra’s features. Her phony smile morphed into a scowl. “I just realized who you are. You’re a friend of Audrey’s, aren’t you?”

  “Guilty as charged,” Talia said, rising from her chair. “And I’m afraid I have to leave. I only stopped by to thank Harry for picking me up off the ground on Sunday after I tripped.” She didn’t mention the gift certificate. The way he’d slipped it under his keyboard made her think he was hiding it from his wife.

  Sandra’s gaze flitted to her husband. “I see. Well, as I always tell people, Handsome Harry is nothing if not helpful. Why, you’re the proverbial knight in shining armor, aren’t you, dollface?”

  His lips pressed tight, Harry shot a furious look at his wife. “Enough, Sandra.”

  “Too bad he saves all his amorous moves for the kitchen,” Sandra went on, taunting him. “Did you ever know a man who was in love with his food processor?” She leaned toward Talia and in a rude stage whisper said, “I swear he uses it for everything, even—”

  “Stop it!” Harry’s face turned ketchup red. “Talia didn’t come here to listen to your diatribes. For God’s sake, Sandra, can’t you leave our squabbles at home?”

  Sandra’s jaw dropped like an anchor thrown overboard. Talia would swear the woman blanched beneath the rosy glow of her makeup. Was that the first time Harry had ever spoken up to her?

  Recovering quickly, Sandra drawled, “Well, well, well, it seems my little prince has developed a temper. That’s so not you, Harry. You really need to find a new act.”

  It was Harry’s turn to blanch. “And how would you know the real me?” he said softly. “You’ve never taken the time to care.”

  Sandra stared at him, openmouthed. Talia was more convinced than ever that he’d never spoken to his wife so bluntly. Until now.

  “You might want to rethink your attitude, Harry,” Sandra said in a low hiss. “I can easily run this place without you.”

  Well, isn’t this charming? Talia thought. She’d managed to wedge herself into a marital spat that was shaping up to be a doozy.

  Harry shrank back into his chair as if he’d been slapped. Talia took that as her cue to make like a roadrunner and dash off.

  “Listen, it was great seeing you both again,” she half lied, inching toward the door. “I really do have to get back to the restaurant.”

  She waved a hurried good-bye to the pair and practically ran for the door. Even from outside she could hear their raised voices. She scurried along the sidewalk, back to the eatery.

  If Sandra hadn’t arrived when she had, Talia might have pried a little more information from Harry. It was clear that he craved a sympathetic ear. He’d been lugging around a lot of hurt for a very long time.

  What the man had ever seen in a woman like Sandra, Talia couldn’t begin to imagine.

  As for Talia, if she never saw Sandra Summers again, it would be about fifty years too soon.

  13

  Talia glanced at her watch. She’d been gone about thirty-five minutes. She hated the idea of leaving Martha and Molly alone to run the eatery for much longer. Even though they were perfectly capable of handling customers on their own, if a slew of phone orders suddenly came in, the two would be swamped.

  But while she had the chance, she wanted to pop into LaFleur Jewelers and chat with someone there. She wasn’t sure why, but something told her she should check out the politician’s wife. Judging from the way Jodie Ferringer outfitted herself, Talia had the feeling that she might be a regular at the pricey shop.

  And besides, hadn’t it seemed as if the well-heeled Jodie had been Norma’s sole friend and supporter? Jodie was young, pretty, and fashionable. Norma was elderly, unsociable, and not terribly stylish. What did the two have in common? Could Jodie be Norma’s long-lost love child?

  Talia instantly scolded herself for such uncharitable thoughts. She hadn’t really known Norma, had she? For all she knew, the woman could have been a kind, unselfish humanitarian with a heart of pure gold.

  She looked both ways and then jogged across the street, narrowly missing getting clipped by a sedan that was in far too much of a hurry. Talia waved an apology at the driver—she had been jaywalking—but he’d been going too fast in downtown traffic. Talia could never understand drivers who treated a busy main thoroughfare as if it were their own personal drag strip.

  Ignoring the driver’s rude gesture, she opened the glass-front door to the jewelry store. A blast of cool air caressed her face, while a tiny bell jingled a tune to announce her arrival. Inside the shop, the soothing notes of a classical piece drifted from an invisible speaker. A delicate scent—lilacs?—perfumed the air.

  On either side of the shop, the walls boasted gorgeous displays of figurines—behind locked, glass-front cases, of course. One entire section was dedicated to bridal accessories. The ambience was clearly designed to encourage browsing. At the rear of the store, a middle-aged woman with a raven black updo smiled brightly at Talia from behind a glass counter. Talia pasted on a smile of her own and strode up to the woman.

  “And what may I help you with on this fine summer day?” the woman chirped, and folded her slender, manicured hands atop the sparkling glass display case.

  Oh boy, Talia thought. Maybe she should have planned out what she was going to say before she’d barreled thr
ough the door! Adopting what she hoped was a wide-eyed look, she bounced her gaze all around, as if the sight of so many glimmering treasures was making her light-headed. “I . . . Oh my, you have such beautiful things in here,” she gushed.

  The woman’s welcoming smile never faltered. “Yes, we surely do, don’t we? Are you looking for something special? Perhaps I can offer some suggestions.”

  Talia pretended to think. She actually was thinking, but not about what to buy. Her gaze drifted to the collection of diamond rings in the case. One in particular had an antique setting that Talia thought was stunning. She couldn’t help wondering if Ryan would present her with a diamond one day. Would he choose it himself, or would he suggest they choose it together? Would he—

  “Miss?”

  Talia looked up to find the woman staring at her. “I’m so sorry. My mind was lollygagging.”

  “That’s perfectly okay. Easy to do in here.” The woman grinned and stuck out a manicured hand. “I’m Kasey,” she said, “with a ‘K.’”

  Talia smiled and accepted the woman’s handshake but omitted giving her own name. “Nice to meet you, Kasey. I’m actually looking for, um, something for my mom. Her birthday is coming up.” It was four months away, but Kasey with a K didn’t need to know that.

  “Well, then, you’ve come to the right place,” Kasey said. “Did you have anything particular in mind?”

  “You know, this is going to sound crazy, but . . . well, I saw Jodie Ferringer coming out of your store a short while ago. I knew she must have bought something, because she was carrying a pretty bag. I couldn’t help wondering what she’d picked out. She has such exquisite taste, doesn’t she?” Talia tried to look awed by Jodie’s fashion sense, hoping she didn’t overplay it and sound like a ditz.

  Kasey nodded, her smile shrinking only slightly. “Mrs. Ferringer has very specific, and extremely fine, tastes. Fortunately she has a husband who indulges her in her . . . little luxuries.”

  Little luxuries? That was a strange way to put it. Was it Talia’s imagination, or was there a tiny hitch in the woman’s tone?

  “Oh, wow, she is lucky, isn’t she?” Talia sighed as if she couldn’t possibly imagine having such a generous husband. She put on what she imagined was a girlish grin. “I wonder if I’ll ever be that lucky someday.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you will!” Back in full sales mode, Kasey beamed. “Now, about your mom’s birthday. We just got in a new line of white gold earrings set with birthstones that are simply classic. What’s her birth date? Is it this month?”

  Talia felt two blotches of red staining her cheeks. “Oh, um . . . you know what?” She waved a hand at the woman. “My mom actually hates all that birthstone stuff.” Okay, she was definitely headed to a hot place in the afterlife.

  “I see,” the woman said, her smile fading again. “What does she like, then?”

  Talia crossed the fingers of her left hand against her thigh, then leaned over the counter and spoke in a conspiratorial tone. “Um, can you tell me what Jodie Ferringer bought? My mom adores everything that woman wears! Maybe if I got her something similar . . .” She let the thought drift off and ride the wave of fibbery.

  Kasey looked down and smoothed her fingers over the glass. For one horrible moment, Talia was sure the woman was going to accuse her of being an outright phony . . . or a spy. She didn’t know which would be worse.

  “The item Mrs. Ferringer picked up,” Kasey said quietly, “was a . . . special order. I can tell you that it contained rubies and was set in eighteen-karat gold.”

  “A special order?” Talia prompted, hoping Kasey might take the bait.

  Kasey’s eyes lit up. “Actually, it was a pendant, meant to be worn on chain.” Kasey held up her hands, as if trying to describe it. “You had to see it, I guess, but it was a meat cleaver, about two inches long.”

  A meat cleaver? “Well, isn’t that different?” Talia mused aloud. “Why a meat cleaver? I wonder.”

  “Oh, the woman loves to cook!” In a cryptic tone Kasey added, “Other than spending, it’s her favorite hobby, if you know what I mean. That cleaver isn’t just eighteen-karat gold. Each rivet on the handle is a ruby of the highest quality. Quite a spectacular piece, actually. We had it made especially for her.”

  Talia winced. “Sounds expensive.”

  Kasey nodded. “As you can imagine, it’s not inexpensive to create a custom-made piece. And it seems we’ve gotten off track,” she said sharply. “Your mother’s birthday . . . ?”

  At that point Talia was trapped. After telling the poor woman all those whoppers, she’d feel terrible walking away empty-handed. And her mother’s birthday would be coming up . . . eventually.

  “You know, I was thinking,” Talia said. “My mom has a little cairn terrier that she just adores. Do you have any charms like that?”

  A smile reclaimed Kasey’s expression. “My dear, you are in luck. We have a new supplier that specializes in charms of every dog breed imaginable. I’m almost certain we have the terrier you’re looking for. Let me go out back and check our inventory.” She turned and pulled a sales book from the counter behind her and plopped it on the glass display. “I’ll be right back,” she promised, with a cheery wink.

  Talia heaved out a sigh of relief. If nothing else, she wouldn’t have to agonize over her mom’s birthday gift this year.

  But she’d also gleaned a few tidbits about Jodie Ferringer. Her two “hobbies,” as Kasey called them, were cooking and spending. Did that mean anything? Talia wasn’t sure. The cooking part might explain why Jodie had bonded with Norma Ferguson. Maybe Norma had volunteered to work on Ferringer’s campaign, met Jodie, and discovered their mutual love of all things culinary.

  Talia peeked around the doorway through which Kasey had disappeared. She heard the sound of a key turning, then footsteps, but still no sign of Kasey.

  Getting antsy now, Talia looked over at the sales pad Kasey had dumped on the counter. When she saw the name “J Ferringer” scribbled at the top, her heart sped up a beat. It was apparently the carbon copy of the original receipt. Reading upside down—something she’d never been good at—she could just barely make out the word custom followed by a bunch of other stuff, and the price of $149.00 plus tax.

  Wait a minute. Was she seeing that right? Keeping one eye peeled for Kasey, she swiveled the sales pad around so that she could read it better.

  Yup. The order was for a “custom cleaver with three 1.05-carat oval-cut rubies.” The price was exactly as she’d first read it.

  Something didn’t add up. Only $149.00? For three rubies set in eighteen-karat gold? And custom-made, at that?

  Talia had just started to turn the sales pad back to the way Kasey had left it when the woman suddenly reappeared from the back room.

  “What are you doing?” Kasey said, her tone now laced with suspicion. She set the box she was holding onto the glass display case and snatched up the sales pad.

  “Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry,” Talia sputtered. “I . . . I couldn’t help peeking when I saw the name ‘Ferringer’ on the sales slip. That custom-made piece sounded so gorgeous the way you described it that, um—”

  “That you couldn’t resist checking out the price?” Kasey’s lips pressed themselves into a furious line.

  Talia sagged. “Guilty as charged.” Again. “I guess that’s why people call me nosy.” She smiled and offered up an apologetic shrug.

  Kasey sucked in a breath of what must have been poisoned air, because the look she gave Talia was positively toxic. “Listen, miss,” she said softly, “I don’t know what your game is, but I have already said far too much about Mrs. Ferringer.”

  Talia instantly felt terrible for taking advantage of the woman. The last thing she wanted to do was get her in trouble. “Listen, I’m awfully sorry for prying,” Talia said, picturing a horned demon setting the thermostat in her room on roast. “When I saw her name on the sales pad, I guess I couldn’t resist a look-see.”

  “She is one
of our best customers,” Kasey went on, “and what she does with her money is her own affair.”

  “I totally agree,” Talia said, trying to sound chastised.

  Kasey gave her a crisp nod. “Okay, then. If you still want the terrier—”

  “Oh, I do!”

  She paid for the charm, which was really quite adorable, and chose a white gold chain from which to hang it. She was fairly sure her mom would love it, and it was one more future errand she could cross off her list.

  After thanking Kasey profusely, she slunk out the door. She really needed to get back to Fry Me. Pausing on the sidewalk, she texted Martha and Molly, although she knew Martha would never read hers. On my way! Had a slight delay.

  No prob! All good! Molly texted back.

  Talia smiled and stuck her phone in her purse. She was going to miss Molly after she was back in school. Audrey was lucky to have such a terrific daughter, even if they did clash on occasion.

  She hustled back to Fry Me, her thoughts bubbling. So many things had been clamoring for her attention that she’d pushed something else out of her mind. Ryan hadn’t texted her this morning.

  Nor had he called.

  During the months they’d been seeing each other, he’d never failed to send her a text each morning. Usually it was along the lines of a Hey, Sunshine, have a great day! followed by XOXO and a row of pink hearts. Sometimes he added a little fish symbol. That always made her smile. And last night she hadn’t gotten the row of pink hearts he always texted her before going to sleep. She’d checked her phone several times, but there’d been nothing.

  A sick feeling gripped her. Something was up with Ryan. He’d never not kept in touch with her for this long a period. Even when he’d gotten a bad flu bug this past winter, he’d managed to send his daily text. His spelling had been off, but that was because he’d been horribly sick.