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Goddess, Guilted

Page 6

by Jacqueline M Green


  “No, it’s fine. Sit down.”

  CeCe and I spoke at the same time. She looked at me with a little smile on her face. I sighed in defeat and waved my hand across from us.

  “Please, join us.”

  They sat down and started discussing the pizza.

  “I’m surprised you two are here today, since you just had pizza the other night.” The words were out of my mouth before I really thought about them.

  Tamara looked at me. “You can’t have too much pizza, right? Besides, you were there with us when we had pizza the other night. If it’s not too much for you, it must be okay then, right?”

  Just because she added “right?” to the ends of her sentences did not mean I was going to agree with her.

  I turned my attention to Deangelo, who sat down with an unhappy thud.

  “Not a pizza fan, Deangelo?”

  He flashed me a weak smile, then threw a glare toward Tamara, who sat with her hands clasped on the table, looking toward the kitchen.

  “Let’s just say it’s not my first choice today. Someone insisted.”

  “Welcome back to Luigi’s Pizza, Goddess.” Lou was suddenly there, with a tray with glasses of ice water for Deangelo and Tamara. I was glad for the intrusion because Deangelo’s words and, more importantly, his tone had left me momentarily speechless.

  CeCe raised her hand. “Could we get some water, too, please?”

  Lou nodded shortly without looking at her. “What can I get for you, Tamara?”

  Deangelo’s eyes flickered from the menu at Tamara, then quickly down again.

  “You’re Luigi, right?” Tamara leaned her head on her hand with her elbow on the table as she looked up at Lou.

  Lou laughed, his cheeks flushing. “I am the owner of Luigi’s, as I mentioned the other night. My dad was Luigi, but I go by Lou. Just plain ole Lou.”

  Tamara giggled. “Of course, just plain ole Lou. I was just teasing.” She glanced down at the menu, then gazed back at Lou. “What would you recommend?”

  “For you, the specialty vegetarian, without the onions.”

  Tamara brought her hand to her heart. “You remembered. That’s so sweet. We’ll have that.” She tried to hand the menu back to Lou, but Deangelo held on to it.

  “Actually,” he started. “we’ll have half vegetarian, half sausage and pepperoni.”

  Without looking at Tamara, he closed the menu and handed it to Lou. “And two sparkling waters, please.”

  Lou looked at Tamara as if to make sure the order was okay with her, but her gaze was fixed on Deangelo. Lou turned toward the kitchen.

  CeCe held up her hands. “Thank you for taking our order as well,” she muttered.

  I leaned toward her. “To be fair, we were being difficult.”

  Tamara hissed at Deangelo. “You know I don’t like meat near my food.”

  Deangelo sipped from his water glass without looking at her. “I’m sure it won’t kill you, just this once.”

  We sat in awkward silence, broken only when Lou dropped off the sparkling waters. Tamara mouthed “thank you” to him as she accepted hers, as if she didn’t want Deangelo to hear.

  “So how do you like Jasper?” CeCe asked.

  Tamara looked up. “I’ve been here before, right? It’s pretty much the same. Even the people. Same … people.”

  CeCe nodded and quickly sipped her water.

  “Are we ready, ladies?” The finally was obvious in Lou’s voice though he didn’t say it as he walked back to us, his pad in his hand.

  “We are.” CeCe handed him back the menus and we quickly ordered a Meat Lovers Special for CeCe and half-Cheese, half-veggie for me. We liked to order extra so we each have leftovers for meals the next day. Or, in my case, for late-afternoon snacks.

  As Lou started to walk away, CeCe jumped up and followed him. “Can we go ahead and pay for it now, please?”

  Lou stopped, and I could swear he took a deep breath before he turned around. I’m pretty sure eye rolls were involved. “We typically take care of that at the end of your meal.”

  “We might need to run out quickly.”

  He stared at her, then shrugged. “Sure, let’s take care of it now.”

  We both stepped over to the cashier and paid for our individual pizzas and drinks.

  I tried to make conversation while we waited for Lou to ring us up. “At least I got veggies on mine this time instead of just cheese.”

  “You are going to start looking like cheese, you’ve eaten it so much lately.” CeCe looked at me pointedly.

  “I already look like cheese.” I looked down at my slightly pudgy body. “Just without the holes.”

  A group of college students walked in and picked out seats. I growled a sigh of disgust. The lunch crowd already was beginning. Between Tamara and Deangelo and now the college kids, it would be harder for Lou to stop and talk with us about Jerry’s murder.

  We stood by the cashiers and waited for our drinks. As Lou handed them to us, I paused as I brought it to my mouth. “So, that was terrible about Jerry.”

  Lou froze and looked at me carefully. “Yeah, it was,” he said shortly.

  “Did he come in here a lot? I thought I saw him the other night after one of my yoga classes.”

  Lou gave a little chin nod. “Sometimes, he would hunker down in here.”

  “Didn’t that bother you? I mean, he was clearly intoxicated the other night.”

  Lou gave the college students the “just a second” sign and leaned against the counter. “Why are you asking me about Jerry?”

  CeCe and I looked at each other. “Because he was a small business owner like you and” she pointed to each of us. “Like us. It’s a big deal.”

  Lou scoffed. “He wasn’t a business owner. Sandy has been running that place single-handedly for the past 15 years. Not to speak ill of the dead-“

  But now you’re going to, I thought.

  “But he was a drain on Sandy, financially, emotionally, physically, everything.”

  “You seem to know their situation pretty well.” Now we’re getting somewhere.

  Lou shrugged. “Like you said, we’re all small-business people, and they’re just down the way from me. Sandy comes in a lot.”

  “How often did Jerry come in like that?”

  “You mean drunk?”

  I nodded.

  He shrugged. “Three or four times a week.”

  “Order up!”

  Lou’s head jerked up and he started to turn.

  “Are you having an affair with Sandy?” My eyes widened as CeCe blurted out the question that was most on our minds.

  Lou froze, a stunned expression on his face. He peered hard at CeCe. “Why would you ask me a question like that?”

  CeCe played with the condensation on the sides of her plastic cup. “Let’s just say someone saw the two of you making googly eyes at each other one night.”

  His gaze ricocheted between CeCe and me. “Googly eyes? What are we, twelve?”

  With that, he turned toward the kitchen, shaking his head as he went.

  CeCe sipped on her straw. “That went well.”

  “Shut up.”

  Chapter 11

  I stopped just outside the pizza place and sat down on a bench facing the door. CeCe looked around, then sat down beside me.

  “Mariah, we have to get back to work.” She waved a hand in front of my face, so I turned to face her. “We own businesses, remember?”

  “Did you see the sparks fly between Tamara and Lou?”

  She clutched her purse with one hand while holding onto her leftover pizza box with the other. “I saw them flirting. Is that what you mean?”

  I nodded slowly. “It seemed like more than that. He fell all over himself to attend to her every little need.”

  CeCe nodded. “She’s beautiful and exotic, Mariah. What’s your point? I actually do need to get back to the shop.”

  “And Paul?” I sing-songed at her.

  She smiled. �
�He’s off today, though I hope to see him tonight. But especially when he’s not there, I need to be there.”

  I crossed my arms. “Either one of them could have killed Jerry. It seems like they both had motive.”

  “Well, we’ll just keep an eye on them, okay?”

  I could tell she was just humoring me so I would stop talking. “Okay, your shop is closest to Luigi’s, so you keep an eye on Lou. I’ll keep watch on Tamara. If one of them is involved, we can take what we learn to Neil and spring Angelica from the pen.”

  “From the pen? Seriously?”

  I laughed to myself. “I just always wanted to say that.”

  CeCe laughed with me and started to turn toward the street when the door to Luigi’s sprang open, the handle banging against the wall behind it.

  Deangelo bolted out, anger etched into his face. He stalked down the street and around the corner.

  I turned to CeCe. “You go back to work. I’ll go check on Tamara.”

  Without waiting for her reply, I scooted to the door, pausing to see if the handle was broken. Everything looked intact.

  I walked back into the dimly lit restaurant and saw Tamara sitting alone at the table where we had left them.

  I sat down beside her, settling my leftover pizza box on the table beside me.

  “Everything all right, Tamara? We just saw Deangelo leave in a hurry.”

  She shrugged. “I’m fine. Deangelo is, well, he’ll be fine, too. We’re just dealing with some issues right now, you know, relationship things.”

  “How long have you been dating?”

  “About six months.”

  “The story you two told the other night was sweet.” I settled onto my chair to show I was interested, resisting the urge to check my watch to see how much time I had before my next private session appointment. “I love a good relationship story.”

  Tamara scoffed. “I don’t know if ours is good or not, I mean, it’s as good as any, right?” She quickly backpedaled when she saw my expression. “At least he doesn’t ask me to go get coffee anymore.”

  “You don’t like coffee?”

  “Oh, never. I don’t drink coffee. The caffeine in coffee is so bad for the spirit. It just really sucks the life out of our spiritual practice.”

  Huh. That’s a new one. I didn’t think it was a good time to mention my own caffeine habit. By the way, I was starting to crave a mocha. Maybe I would try it with coconut milk instead of almond milk this time, or perhaps just go full on whole milk for a change. My mind started to consider the possibilities, including perhaps a shot of caramel flavoring--

  “Mariah?” Tamara smiled indulgently. “You looked like you went somewhere else.”

  I caught myself licking my lips and wondering if I should mention that my favorite place next to my studio, was CeCe’s coffee shop. I decided to keep my mouth shut.

  “Sorry, my mind wandered. Tell me more about you and Deangelo.”

  Apparently the two of them went to a tea shop instead and have been inseparable ever since.

  “And how do you know his sister, Angelica?”

  “She is such a sweetie. We met at the hospital where I was teaching yoga. She was doing some kind of, I don’t know, program there.”

  “EMT.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “She’s studying to be an EMT, emergency medical technician.”

  “Oh, right. Sometimes I am so flaky. Of course, she’s training to be an EMT. She’ll be really good at it.” Tamara shook her head and twirled her water glass. “Mostly she and I talk about yoga and the work she does for me, and, of course, recovery. It’s so vital for former addicts, right?”

  “Right.” Tamara’s pizza showed up just then. Lou insisted on serving her the first piece, setting the plate in front of her. He looked around for Deangelo. She silently waved his gaze back to her.

  “He had to leave. We can just wrap up his half of the pizza.”

  “Sure, no worries. How about I keep you company then?” Lou sat down across from Tamara and looked at me. “Don’t you have a class or something?”

  I looked purposely at my watch. “I have time.”

  Tamara giggled. “It’s fine, Mariah. I am in Lou’s safe hands.”

  I knew when I had been dismissed. I stood up and walked toward the door. When I looked back, Lou was taking a bite from the pizza on Deangelo’s side.

  Chapter 12

  I mulled over this new information as I walked down Main Street toward The Yoga Mat, then stopped in my yoga-shod tracks, staring toward the diner. Neil Samuelson walked with a blond woman across the street from me. I stopped behind a light pole and peeked at them.

  He walked on the side nearest the road, as any small-town gentleman would, so his face was turned away from mine. The woman was pretty, with long hair, a skirt that was just this side of office-appropriate and a tight-fitting top. Not that I was judging. She laughed at something he said and touched his arm lightly. He leaned in to hear her response. I could hear her laughter from my spot behind the pole.

  Someone bumped into me, knocking me awry and nearly knocking the pizza from my hands.

  “Mariah, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” I looked up to see CeCe’s barista, Paul, a smile on his face and a bag of groceries in his hand.

  “No worries. Are you cooking tonight?” I motioned to the bag in his hand.

  “Nothing fancy. Chicken alfredo with a salad.” He looked at me uncertainly for a moment. “Do you think CeCe will like it?”

  I paused. Should I mess with him or not? He seemed so earnest, I decided not to. I nodded vigorously. “She’ll love it, especially if there is something yummy for dessert.”

  Paul held up the bag. “Strawberries with cream.”

  “Perfect.” I started to turn away, casting my eyes back across the street.

  “What are you doing?” He looked across the street at Neil and the blond, who had reached the door of the diner. “Because it looks like you’re stalking someone.”

  We both watched as Neil opened the door and the woman entered the diner before him.

  I harrumphed and stood up a little straighter.

  “I’m not a stalker. Don’t believe everything CeCe tells you. I’m going back to work now. I have a business to run.” Then I turned and continued walking toward The Yoga Mat but not before I saw a smile flicker across Paul’s face. Dang it. He’d probably rat me out to CeCe, too.

  Who was that blond woman? I didn’t remember seeing her in town and was sure she hadn’t been in any of my yoga classes. Were they dating? I had thought he was interested in me. He did seem to come around here a lot.

  “What the heck?” The words meant only for myself flew out of my mouth as I swung open the door of The Yoga Mat, belatedly remembering that Cindy’s noon class was just finishing.

  I peeked over the double saloon doors that separated the lobby from the studio. Cindy sat on her mat at the front of the class, while her students lay flat on their mats in savasana, at least the ones who didn’t open their eyes to see who had interrupted their meditation time. I stood on my tiptoes and mouthed the words “I’m sorry” over the doors. Cindy just smiled and waved me away.

  I stepped quietly into my office, slipping off my shoes just inside, then closed the door before I turned on my light so I wouldn’t further disturb the students. Only a few minutes remained before Cindy and her students would be filling the lobby with chatter, so I quickly pulled out student lists and receipts. Stormy did a great job of organizing everything, so all I had to do was match the receipts with the bank balance on my laptop. I happily noticed that the bank balance had continued its upward trajectory.

  Cindy rang a chime signaling the end of savasana and students began to move around. I heard her end the class with an inspirational quote that I found cheesy, but students seemed to like it.

  Cindy hooked open the saloon doors on the sides with a click, then stuck her head in the office.

  “Hey, boss.”

  I loo
ked up and smiled. Cindy was my big sister and sheriff in the county. But at The Yoga Mat, I was the boss. It was a good feeling and Cindy knew it. Having her teach a noon class was dicey at times, because occasionally the bad guys did their deeds in broad daylight.

  Every once in a while, I would get an urgent text saying she couldn’t teach that day. I was so grateful for her help at the studio that I didn’t mind.

  Truth be told, I would spend every waking hour at The Yoga Mat if I could. Cindy had convinced me it would be bad for my sanity to be here constantly, so she had gotten certified to teach last year when I was first planning to move to Jasper.

  “How was class?”

  She shrugged. “Good as any. How was lunch?”

  I held up the box of leftover pizza. “Good as any. Want some pizza?”

  She laughed and shook her head, then reached over her head to adjust the high ponytail she always wore in yoga and to work. “More pizza? I still have leftovers from the other night in the fridge at the station. I’m going to go back and heat them up. Charlie is pizza-ed out and doesn’t want me to bring it home for dinner.”

  I smiled at her husband’s assessment. He was more a meat and potatoes guy.

  Cindy said goodbye to the last of the noon students, then reached to snag her satchel from behind the office door so she could change before going back to the post. “I might see if Neil wants some pizza.”

  “He’s already eaten.”

  Cindy’s hand froze over the satchel and her eyes met mine. “And you would know this how? Anything you’d like to share, little sister?”

  I shook my head and looked down at the papers in my hand, pretending they were super important. “I just happen to see him and some blonde go into the diner a little bit ago, that’s all.”

  “Some blonde?” Cindy’s hand continued its descent. She picked up the satchel, then paused. “Long hair, short skirt?”

  “That’s the one.” I refused to take my eyes off my pretend-important papers.

  “It’s probably Lindsay Carlton. Paralegal at the courthouse. She dates every single man in town at some point or other. I wouldn’t worry.”

  With that, she slipped out the office door and into the studio’s bathroom to change.

 

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