by Misty Simon
She eyed him up and down in a way that I found to be less sensual and more like an assessment. “I’ll give you a call. Thanks.” She turned to the dining room with her arms outspread. “All of it goes. In fact, everything goes except the kitchen. The kitchen is mine.” And she walked away, hips swaying and step sure.
So much for getting a chance to ask her pointed questions—but I still had a couple of hours.
* * *
Those hours flew by, as the house was stuffed to the rafters. Not with anything valuable, but not quite a hoarder’s paradise either. Just stuff, lots and lots of stuff that Uncle Sherman grumbled at me about as he made his fifth trip out to his truck.
“You’d better be paying me handsomely for all this manual labor,” he said as he came back into the house. “I run a fire company, not a moving company.”
I pretended not to hear him and kept going through all the men’s clothing in the closet looking for any clues. It had worked before, a random receipt here, a threatening note there. But I found nothing. Absolutely nothing, and I still didn’t know what Michelle thought she had on Gina that would pin her for the murder.
It was time to get down to business. Jeremy was heading out with the last load for Sherman.
I found Michelle in the kitchen, a smell wafting from the stove that nearly curled my nose hairs.
“Uh, we’re almost through here. Good luck with everything, and not that I want to sound like I know everyone, but if you need somebody to look over the books for your husband’s business before it becomes yours, my boyfriend is a tax consultant.” I didn’t mention the government thing since this wouldn’t be an official inquiry, and I assumed he probably wouldn’t take any money for it. I didn’t know the rules, but I was sure he would, being the Taxinator that he was.
“Wow, you should open some kind of Death Boutique. Clean the house, lay out the body, work through the financials. You could be a full-service grief handler.”
God, no, never. I answered nicely, though, since I still wanted to pick her brain. She’d stayed one step ahead of me for the last few hours. Always moving to the next room as soon as I found her. “Thanks for the idea. I’ll definitely give it some thought.” Of course, the answer would be no since I didn’t plan on cleaning forever, and I certainly didn’t want to work for my dad anymore than absolutely necessary. “If you need anything else let me know.”
“You’re from across the river, right? Is there any way you know a Gina Laudermilch?” The question seemed innocent enough, but there was an underlying tone that I didn’t care for.
Time to come clean. “I do. We grew up together.”
“And you’re her best friend.” She tapped her chin with her index finger. “I just realized where I’d seen you before. I can’t believe you felt okay coming to clean for the woman who wants to see your best friend rot in jail.”
“A job is a job,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Well, here’s another job for you. Tell your precious Gina that I’m coming for her and her shop, and it would be so much easier if she’d just give in and do what I want. There’s no telling what can happen when my plans are thwarted.”
Still clenching my teeth, I now also clenched my fist. This woman was going to have to get through me before she thought she could take down Gina. “That could be taken as a threat.”
“Not a threat, just a warning. She’s not going to be around to run the place anyway, and I have far more innovative and forward-thinking ideas of what can be done with the coffeehouse. Make sure you tell her that, too.”
She turned away with her last words and waved to me over her shoulder as if she’d already won the war.
We’d see about that.
* * *
“You don’t think I should tell Gina about the threat on the Bean just yet?” I snuggled in with Max on the single couch in my studio apartment. When he wasn’t here the place sometimes felt like an okay space with just me and Mr. Fleefers, the roamer, in it. But whenever Max was here, I wished I had something bigger, something more like a real house where we could grill out on a wonderful night like tonight, or sit in the backyard and play cards under the moonlight. Since we had an incinerator in the back where we did the cremations, and the back drive was where they delivered bodies, sometimes late at night, I did not think that was the most romantic of places.
I gave Max kudos for even wanting to be here. I kissed him on the cheek just because I could.
He pressed his hand to his jaw when I moved back. “What was that for?”
“Just because. Thanks so much for helping today.”
“Of course.” He took a moment to look my face over. Running his fingers along my jaw, his lips curved into a soft smile that I wanted to nibble. And then he was all business. “Now back to your question. I don’t think it’s a good idea. She already knows that the woman used to measure her store and that now she wants her cuffed and shot at dawn for killing Craig. Telling her the woman actually wants to offer for the coffeehouse would just send Gina over the edge. Leave her some kind of ledge to hang on to.”
I sighed, burrowing into his side. “You have a point, but I’m going to tell her by the end of the week just in case Michelle decides to walk in and offer.”
“Unless she has a ton of money of her own, she can’t do anything until the estate is settled.”
“But she could still try to rattle Gina by making the offer, knowing how much it would irritate her.” That was my main worry.
“She could, but why don’t we at least sleep on it? You can make a decision tomorrow morning.” He nudged me to move down the couch, then took my feet into his lap and rubbed them. The word “keeper” flashed into my head.
“True, and it’s late.” I glanced out the window. All the lights were out across the way at Gina’s. Burton had told her she could go home finally. I still didn’t know why the word around town had been that he was planning to arrest her, but I was thankful he hadn’t. She’d be up early in the morning to open even though we’d all told her that she could take a few days off. Especially since Laura would probably not be in again tomorrow. I’d stopped by the house on Marble on my way home and Mrs. Farrell had only told me the girl was still “indisposed.”
The idea of closing for the day was protested long and loud. In her mind, Gina had to make as much as she could now. Eventually, people might get bored coming in when nothing new happened and then she’d just go back to her regulars instead of the crush she was currently enjoying. There were several people who had come in and out numerous times for coffee who had never been there before. She’d gotten names, but they flew out of my head now when I tried to think of them.
I’d written them down on my notepad just to make sure I had all the information I could get in one place. Glancing over at the counter where the notepad sat, I sighed again. It didn’t have anything truly useful on it yet. I was beginning to feel like I was failing even though it had only been a day.
Max distracted me from my funk by digging his thumb into my arch. He might be a whiz with a calculator and numbers, but his true calling had to be rubbing my feet.
Mr. Fleefers jumped up on Max’s lap and demanded his own rubbing.
“Down. You are not taking one of my magic hands away.”
As always, the cat ignored me, purred deep in his throat and butted his head against Max. The man could never resist the cat, and so I lost one hand to a cat belly rub.
That was okay, though. I was back in thinking mode. I’d wait until tomorrow to tell Gina about the impending offer. Surely Michelle would wait at least that long to spring anything on Gina. For all we knew, she might wait and have a signed and sealed envelope delivered, since she wasn’t allowed in the Bean regardless.
I drifted in a haze of contentment and almost sleep with Max rubbing my one foot and Mr. Fleefers purring rhythmically. Not a bad way to drift, if you asked me.
I was nearly asleep for real when my phone chimed with my older brother’s ring tone. I’d given him the Adda
ms Family theme song because it made me giggle and him roll his eyes. Kid sisters, no matter how old they are, often can find the fun in all kinds of ridiculous and tiny jabs.
I considered continuing to loll there on my warm couch with my wonderfully talented boyfriend, but my phone continued to ring long past when it should have gone to voicemail.
“What on earth do you want?” I was not exactly nice in my answering.
“Get up and get downstairs. Your precious Michelle called about a half hour ago and has decided to have a memorial without the body because she doesn’t want to wait that long if they’re going to keep Craig as a murder victim.”
I sat up straighter, removing my feet from Max’s lap. “Wait. What does this have to do with me? I’ll set things up for her to come make decisions tomorrow if you want, but we could’ve talked about this in the morning, not at ten o’clock at night.”
“Except that she wants it tomorrow morning.”
“What?” No way. We’d never pulled something together this fast. I’d be up all night, battling the demon computer in my dad’s office.
“Yeah, get your clothes on and book down those stairs. We have freshening up to do. Bring your boyfriend with you. Make sure he’s dressed, too.”
“We’re both already dressed, Jeremy. Don’t be a punk.”
“Pity, but that means you should be down here in about sixty seconds, when Dad shows up and starts handing out those to-do lists you hate.”
Fantastic. Any lull that I had been enjoying was now totally gone. It was off to work I went. As I dragged Max down the stairs it did occur to me that a memorial might be the perfect place to look over Craig’s acquaintances and see the widow in action. I had a feeling the performance would be much different than today’s. I would finally be able to tell if she really was a good actress, or if she really was that hot and cold.
Chapter Six
“Are we ready?” Jeremy paced in the front foyer in his best suit. The charcoal gray was muted and the blue tie matched his eyes. His short blond hair was perfect, and he looked like someone you could trust. And he was someone you could trust now. Back when we were younger not so much. As evidenced by the time I was a preteen, not so bright girl, infatuated with fairy tales, and he had a frog that he thought I should kiss to become a prince. It was disgusting and I didn’t trust him with anything he told me for years after that.
“So much for your vacation, huh?” I patted him on the head and he flinched out from under my hand. “I’m not going to mess up your hair, for God’s sake. You have more gel in that small thatch of blond than most people use in a decade.”
That got me a glare, but I was only trying to lighten the mood before the locusts descended. Or rather, the Johnson clan and friends.
“Yes, well, this is better. Working is good. My plans fell through anyway. It wasn’t meant to be.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” And I truly was. Everyone needed some time away every once in a while. As much as I loved to tease my brother, I still thought he worked too much. There had to be more to life than dead people. “What were you supposed to do?”
For just a second he looked over my shoulder in the direction of the Bean, then gave his head a miniscule shake and brought his gaze back to mine. “Nothing to mourn over.”
“Was that a joke? Did you really just make a funeral joke?” I laughed and Max joined in, but quickly turned his laugh into a cough when Jeremy glared at us.
“We have no idea what this is going to be like.” The glare did not lessen even as he straightened his already straight tie. “I did not get to meet with the widow other than when I was moving a dining room table out of her house. Everything was done over the phone. This is highly unusual. I don’t even know who might show up since the deceased is from across the river, and they had no notice.”
Ah, the joys of living in central Pennsylvania. You either lived on the West Shore or the East Shore, and some of the older folks wouldn’t even cross the bridge into Harrisburg, talking about the trip like it was a thousand-mile trek, across a mountain range, on foot, with no shoes, instead of a short drive over one of the seven bridges spanning the Susquehanna River.
“I’m sure it will be fine.” I tucked my clipboard and list under my elbow as my dad walked in from the yellow parlor. He, too, was in a charcoal suit, his tie a deeper blue and his hair gel-less since he didn’t have enough to actually need hair product.
“We’re all set. Your mother secured some light fare for the memorial. She also made her famous punch.”
I didn’t know that I would call fruit punch from the freezer and clear soda famous. Maybe it was the rainbow sherbet she added to the mix.
“We have a program thanks to Tallie.”
The printer and I had a love-hate relationship, but last night it had worked for me flawlessly when I ran off a hundred of those babies while I had Max fold them. They weren’t as lovely as some of the other ones I’d made, but considering the philandering, womanizing subject I had to work with, I had done the best I could. Of course, I’d never say that to my father. To him, all the dead were equal and deserved the utmost respect when being laid to rest. I believed that to a certain extent, but this guy had hurt Gina, and I just wasn’t at the forgive-and-forget portion of the program yet.
“We have flowers thanks to Monty.” Dad placed two big check marks on his own clipboard. I swore that the man would be buried with one when his time came. Along with a list of all the things he wanted to be perfect on that day.
“We have all the chairs out, the floors cleaned, and the mantels dusted courtesy of Max and Jeremy.”
I looked around the rose carpet on the floor and noticed they had even done the trick that made it look clean but didn’t leave lines. I’d add vacuuming to my list of things I admired about my man. I nodded to him and he winked at me. Be still my heart but he was something else.
A car pulled up out front and the show was on the road, or in the funeral home, as the case may be. Max looked divine dressed up in a tie and shirt he’d borrowed from Jeremy. He had a fancy suit that he’d shown me but it didn’t fit the requirements of the funeral home for this kind of ceremony. Though it did make me wonder why he had brought something like that with him. Did he plan to take me out to dinner somewhere fancy?
We hadn’t discussed much other than just hanging out and being together. It had been weeks since I’d seen him last. I’d have to search through my closet for something non-house-cleaner and non-funeral-parlor-girl-Friday later, just in case.
At the moment, though, the people were coming through the double doors in throngs. I didn’t know anyone and that made it easier to escort them to seats. I’d set out plenty of tissues for the people who might have forgotten, or had gone through all the ones they’d brought with them. But instead of there not being a dry eye in the crowd, I couldn’t find even a vaguely moist one.
Gina had called an hour ago to tell me that a lady from the library had come in to the Bean sobbing that all chances of her having a real relationship were over. She’d ordered the biggest mug of hot chocolate Gina could give her, with a mound of marshmallows and whipped cream, to mourn the loss of Craig. If she had tears there, why didn’t we have tears here?
That stayed true for the next ten minutes, until a wailing woman in a teal dress streaked through the door and threw herself at the foot of the twenty-by-twenty-four picture of Craig that I’d had blown up first thing this morning at the local printer’s.
“Oh, Craig. Oh my God. You’ll never get to meet our baby now,” she said between sobs, stopping the whole room in its tracks.
Well, everyone, that was, except me. I ran to her side. Not only did I want to get her out before the widow came in, I also wanted a chance to talk with her about her claim and maybe find out just a little bit more about this other, other, other woman. Gina’s hot chocolate swiller made two, and this one was now three. I was going to have to find a notebook like Burton’s to put in my pocket to keep track of everyon
e.
* * *
Back to the kitchen we went. I swear I was spending more time in this room in the past week than I had in years. I didn’t want to risk taking her into another parlor just in case someone wandered into the wrong room in their grief. Nor did I want to use the downstairs office since it held quarter ends of caskets, heavy furniture, and gravestones on the wall along with shelves of urns. I didn’t think that was an appropriate place to take someone who was obviously grieving.
So the kitchen it was. I put down a mug of my herbal tea and a plate of my mother’s famous snickerdoodles. She must have made more last night. I had depleted her stash significantly over the last couple of days, but now it was full again. They’d cure what ailed you if you let them.
This woman didn’t quite look ready to be cured, but she did take a cookie, then a sip of her chamomile tea.
She pushed her brown bangs off her forehead and tucked a hank of hair behind her ear. Brown eyes swam in tears, but no more fell. “Thank you for this. You’ve gone above and beyond, but I really should go back out there and pay my last respects to the man who had promised me the world and only left me with a piece of himself.”
Yikes. Did she know about the wife? And how hard it must be to be left to raise a child all on your own? Although, even if he had lived I had my doubts that he would have supported this poor woman.
If she’d seen the notice in the paper, then she must have seen the part about being survived by his wife, Michelle.
“Um, I think it might be better if you stay in here and collect yourself. You can have a private viewing later, if necessary.” My dad would probably have a fit about that, but it was the only way I could think of to keep her here instead of putting her directly in the path of the widow, who had shown herself to be unhinged.
One tear spilled over. She swiped it away with her fingertip. “Oh, I couldn’t do that. Craig meant too much to me to not be here for his final farewell. I want to fix this moment in my mind for the lonely years ahead.”
Seriously? Okay, she must not know about the widow, so this would be tricky territory, especially since she was pregnant and I did not want to upset her more than she already was.