One Taste Too Many

by Debra H. Goldstein

  Sarah held the bag out to Jane. “This one is ripped. I thought I’d change his collar. If you have a preference, I’ll put that one on him.”

  Jane randomly grabbed one from the bag. “It really isn’t necessary. I’ll be buying him a new one.” She addressed her next words directly to RahRah. “Time to go, cat. Mama’s got to get ready for this afternoon’s contest.”

  Jane started to stand, but a look from Sarah kept her anchored to the bed. She put her face down toward RahRah like Sarah and Emily had done and rubbed his head. “Nice cat. We’re going to be great friends.”

  RahRah angled on his side.

  “Nice cat.” Jane reached to pat his stomach.

  “Don’t!” Emily and Sarah yelled in unison, but it was too late. RahRah sprang onto his four paws hissing. Jane recoiled as RahRah swung his front paws wildly and barely missed scratching her. Sarah grabbed him as he went to jump from the bed. How stupid could Jane be? Whispering, she sweet-talked RahRah until he relaxed and snuggled to her.

  She exploded at Jane. “Cats aren’t dogs. You can’t pat their stomachs and expect them to roll over and swoon for you. A belly is the most sensitive spot on a cat so if you go near it, the cat will instinctively protect itself.”

  “I’ll not make that mistake again.” Jane opened the wire door of the carrier. “Put him in, please.”

  Unable to think of a way to stall anymore, Sarah kissed RahRah and placed him in the carrier. “I’m so sorry. I’m going to try to get you back.”

  Jane snapped the wire door of the carrier shut. “There’s no way that’s going to happen.” Purse and carrier swinging, she strode out the door.

  Sarah stared at the apartment door as it slammed. She had the sensation a bad smell had left the room, but for some reason, a chill as cold as her forgotten frittata still lingered.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  This time it was Emily’s turn to comfort her sister. She guided Sarah away from where she stood fixated on the door. Neither of them spoke. Emily began returning RahRah’s abandoned toys to the cardboard box.

  “It isn’t fair!” Sarah said.

  Emily looked up and nodded. She added the unopened bag of food to the top of the box.

  Sarah watched her sister but didn’t offer to help. “That witch doesn’t want RahRah because she loves him. She only wants him for his money.”

  “His money?” Emily stood and wiped her hands on her jeans. “Did I misunderstand you?”

  Sarah grabbed a tissue from the box on the windowsill and blew her nose.

  “Our furry friend has money?”

  “According to Harlan, RahRah is loaded. In her will, Bill’s mother left RahRah the carriage house and established an animal trust that provides for him to be pampered and cared for the remainder of his life.”

  “So what was he doing living with you? Was this his slumming period? I wouldn’t consider this living with royalty.” Taking the bag of collars from the box, she crowned herself with one of RahRah’s jeweled collars. Scooping the dropped toy mouse from the floor, she held it as a scepter.

  Sarah was amused at how the makeshift tiara sat firmly askew on her sister’s head. It caught the light as Emily pranced around the room, but Sarah’s smiling mouth quickly tightened into a flat line as she thought about RahRah.

  Emily stopped dancing. She dropped her crown and scepter back into the box. “I’m missing something. Didn’t RahRah live here until five minutes ago?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, this doesn’t look like the carriage house and it would seem that your check must have been lost by the post office.”

  “It was delivered into Bill’s bank account. Mother Blair’s provision for RahRah’s care was simply another thing Bill neglected to mention.” She dabbed her eyes with the used tissue. “You know, I should be mad about everything Bill cheated me out of, but I really don’t care. One part of me is in shock and can’t believe Bill’s gone. At other times, I feel like good riddance, he got his comeuppance. I only wish the same fate for Jane, but I don’t want RahRah to suffer because of her.”

  Emily scrunched her eyes at her sister’s harsh words. The worry lines in her forehead became more prominent. “I wouldn’t say that too loudly. You never know when making a threat might come back to bite you.”

  “Now you’re the one being dramatic. Em, for someone who can be so take charge, you definitely have a histrionic flair.”

  “And you have a way with words. Histrionic?”

  “It’s simply a synonym for dramatic.”

  Emily arched her eyebrows. “Really?”

  “Okay, sometimes I spice up what I’m saying, like some of the things I said about Bill during my divorce, but be honest, you do that with the names of your recipes.”

  “You’ve got me there.”

  “Look at it this way. I enjoy playing with words like some people enjoy playing with jewelry.”

  “That’s because you don’t have any.”

  “Tell that to Peter and Jane. According to them, I’m supposed to have hidden a diamond bracelet somewhere.”

  “Wait a minute,” Emily said. “Maybe the bracelet has been in plain sight.”

  “Are you accusing me of taking it, too?”

  “No.” Emily pulled the bag of collars out of the box. She poured the bag out on the floor and searched through them until she found the one she’d used as a tiara.

  “What are you doing?”

  Emily waved the collar at Sarah. “Maybe the bracelet’s been here all along?” She handed the collar to Sarah, who stared at it and frowned before throwing it back into the box.

  “Good thinking, but the diamonds in Mother Blair’s bracelet are far bigger. That’s probably why Jane wants it so badly.” Sarah picked up another collar. “Maybe Mother Blair separated the stones into different collars to hide them for some reason.”

  The two flipped through the rest of the collars, but nothing else caught their eye. Frustrated, they put them back into the box.

  “Look at the time.”

  Sarah glanced at the wall clock. “It’s only eight twenty.”

  “I know. I’ve got to get a move on and get to the Expo.

  “Considering the fire, are you going to even bother with the booth?”

  “Yes. I called Marcus while you were sleeping.”

  “How is he?”

  “Grumpy and ready to be discharged. He wanted to go to the restaurant before going to the Expo to see what he can salvage, but the fire marshal hasn’t declared the area stable enough for anyone to go anywhere near it until tomorrow. I told him to sit tight. Jacob can always handle the emcee duties.”

  “And you?”

  “There are only five hours until the contest. Not only do I have prep work, but there is a ton of stuff to do to make sure the Southwind booth is ready when the Expo opens at eleven. Want to come along?”

  Sarah laughed. “Are you asking for my help?”

  “No, not this time. We’re the only ones allowed to touch our contest dishes from prep to finish. I thought you might want to nose around a bit. Check out the other cooks and our neighboring booths again.”

  “Thanks, but I’ll keep my nose to myself until contest time. I think any sleuthing we do at the Civic Center should be done together.”

  “I’m going to be too busy to play detective.”

  Sarah realized that was true. With Chef Marcus in the hospital, Emily, rather than Jane, was taking responsibility for the efficient operation of everything and everyone in the Southwind booth, plus her contest entry. Sarah felt torn. She had promised Peter to stick to Emily’s side, but she couldn’t see how Emily would ever be alone at the Civic Center. And while others watched her, it would be such a great time to run by Harlan’s office and do a few things. After all, Harlan didn’t usually work on Sundays.

  Sarah tried to think how she could warn her sister without violating Peter’s confidence. “If you don’t really need me, it would be a great time to justify my paych
eck by typing a response brief I know Harlan needs filed by four on Monday. Considering the confusion of this week, he’ll be thrilled if we don’t go to the wire with it.”

  “Fine. You go to the office.”

  “I will if you promise me one thing.”

  “What?”

  “Until your presentation, you won’t go anywhere in the building without staying in at least one person’s sight, if not two.”

  Emily laughed. “I thought Mom was on vacation. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be too busy to wander anywhere. When are you leaving?”

  “Right behind you.” Sarah flipped the light switch off as she followed Emily out the door. “I don’t have any reason to hang around my apartment today.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Once outside, Sarah realized Emily’s earlier observation that it was a beautiful day was an understatement. Most days she drove to work so she could sleep to the last possible moment, but today she veered in the opposite direction from her parked car. Considering how the morning had gone, taking advantage of the perfect weather seemed in order. Walking would be a stress reliever.

  The most direct route to Harlan’s office was the one she’d run to Southwind yesterday, but today she opted to meander along the scenic tree-lined section of Main Street she’d once lived on. It had been a long time since she’d studied its big houses, set-back garages, and carriage houses. There were a lot of little changes in the neighborhood.

  Because of the zoning law modifications that permitted the strip center to be built, she knew many of the homes near the mall now housed office space, like Harlan’s, businesses, or apartments. Most of the buildings on Main Street were still private dwellings, except for one that had been razed.

  To Sarah, many of the houses looked tired. There was one with a FOR SALE sign that appeared to have a fresh coat of white paint on its wooden exterior and some newly planted knockout roses for color. Sarah thought several of the other buildings could use similar tender loving care. She wondered what was planned for the empty lot. Hopefully, whatever it was would bring some vitality back to the street. Personally, she wasn’t against the planned entertainment district as long as it was done rationally.

  Distracted from her thoughts by a bird sipping from a freestanding bird feeder across the street from the house she knew had been her destination all along, she paused. Staying on the sidewalk in front of Bill’s, or should she say Mother Blair’s house, she craned her neck to see if, by chance, she could catch a glimpse of RahRah.

  The drapes were closed and both houses seemed dark and deserted. She wondered if Jane had given RahRah the run of the carriage house or confined him to that awful carrier. One part of Sarah wanted to knock on the door and find out, but she couldn’t do that. Instead, she stood across the street staring at the house.

  “Thinking about breaking in?”

  Startled, Sarah swung around. “Mr. Rogers.”

  The wizened neighbor who owned the home across from Bill’s stood near her.

  “I didn’t hear you come up behind me.”

  The old man laughed again. “No wonder. You were too lost in your own thoughts. Missing the homestead?”

  Sarah sidestepped his question by responding with one of her own. “I’m sorry we didn’t get an opportunity to visit yesterday in Harlan’s office. How have you been?”

  “Never better.” He tapped his cane on the sidewalk and then used it to point to Bill’s house. “A lot of things going on there.”

  “You mean construction?” She waited for him to answer in his own good time. Despite his rheumy eyes and failing hearing, there were a few things Sarah knew could be counted on from George Rogers. One was that he was always clad in a three-piece brown suit with a pocket watch he claimed dated back to his grandfather. The second was that, while his late wife and he were always kind to her, they’d hated Bill because of some long ago incident. Not only had they unsuccessfully tried to keep Bill from buying the property, but once he started his post-divorce remodeling project, they repeatedly called the city inspectors to say something in the remodeling wasn’t being done right.

  “No, the construction has been on hold for a while now. Talking about comings and goings. I wouldn’t be surprised if the house isn’t put up for sale soon.”

  Although she couldn’t be certain what would happen with the big house, Sarah knew from the documents Harlan had shown her that there was no question about the fate of RahRah, his animal trust, and the carriage house. “I’m sure that won’t be the case for quite some time. You know how these legal things are when someone dies.”

  “Don’t kid yourself. Folks find ways to get around the law all the time,” Mr. Rogers chuckled. “Mark my words, this will be on the market before you know it.”

  Sarah shuddered. She didn’t much care what happened to Jane or the big house, but even if he couldn’t live with her, she wouldn’t let anyone monkey with Mother Blair’s legacy for RahRah.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Sarah was surprised to see lights on in Harlan’s office. Normally, he avoided work like the plague on Sundays, but maybe, like his Saturday appointment with Mr. Rogers, he was also making up for getting behind this past week.

  As she reached the top of the stairwell, the screen door opened, almost knocking her down. Jacob, still talking to someone in the office, stood in the doorway with one hand on the inner doorknob and the other on the storm door’s handle. Other than a small white bandage near his hairline, Sarah couldn’t help but note that his appearance was back to near perfection.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Um, hey, yourself. What are you doing here?” Jacob closed the door behind him. He stood blocking the door as they talked.

  “This is where my real day job is. And you?”

  He pointed over his shoulder. “With me working every day, Harlan was nice enough to come in today to give me some advice.”

  “Oh, is everything all right? How is your head?”

  “I’m fine and yeah, it was just a matter of something I’ve been thinking of doing. Harlan’s got a good grasp of investment possibilities and their legal ramifications.” He jumped down the stairs two at a time. “I better get back to the Civic Center. There’s a lot to do before the contest.”

  “Are you competing, too?”

  “No, but I need to be around in case Jane or Emily need help prepping. Plus, I promised Chef Marcus I’d make sure the exhibitors’ refreshment tables stay stocked.” He gave her a quick salute with two fingers to his bandaged forehead and then took off whistling.

  Sarah watched him go. For a second, an unformed thought floated through her mind, but it was gone before she caught it.

  She opened the screen door. The wooden door was locked. She unlocked it and pushed it open. “Harlan.” She stepped over the threshold.

  No answer.

  “Harlan?” The hair on the back of her neck stood up. She slipped her hand into her purse and felt for her cell phone. After the past few days, one part of her brain commanded her to “leave and call Peter,” but then she thought about the possibility of Harlan lying in his office injured, or worse. She tiptoed to the doorway of his office. From there, she could see pads and files on his desk, but his chair was empty. She inched forward to check the floor behind his desk. “Harlan?”

  “Yes?”

  Sarah jumped a mile as his voice came from behind her. She turned to see him drying his hands with a paper towel. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  She dropped her purse onto Harlan’s couch and followed it with her body. “I called your name a few times and when you didn’t answer, I was afraid something had happened to you.”

  “I took something to my car and went to wash my hands. I must not have heard you over the water running. What are you doing here today? I thought you’d be helping your sister at the Civic Center.”

  “The contestants aren’t allowed to have anyone help them. I thought I’d surprise you by typing the response b
rief before tomorrow. I know you hate things to be last minute. What are you doing here?”

  “Same thing. There were so many interruptions this week, I came in this morning to take care of a few things.”

  “I ran into Jacob on my way in.”

  “Oh, yes. He stopped by for a few minutes.”

  She waited, hoping Harlan would volunteer the reason for Jacob’s Sunday visit. There were lots of possible investments in Wheaton and Birmingham. She was curious what he was considering and if it had anything to do with Southwind.

  “I was just getting ready to leave.” Harlan walked around his desk, threw the paper towel into his trash can, and picked up his aviator sunglasses from where they lay on the edge of the desk. “Now that I scared you, are you staying or going?”

  “Staying.”

  His sunglasses perched on the top of his head, Harlan swept a few papers into his briefcase and clipped it shut. “I’ll take care of the back door. Make sure you lock the front.”

  “I will.” One time. One time she’d forgotten to make sure the door was locked and Harlan never let her forget it. She scooped up the contents of his “out” basket and took them back to her to-be-filed pile and the folder hidden in her desk.

  The minute she heard Harlan walk out the back door, Sarah hurried to lock the front door. Once she felt secure in the quiet office, she quickly typed the brief and distractedly began her filing. Other than glancing at the headings on each of the memos and files in her stack to make sure she associated things correctly, her task was mindless. Sarah was surprised at how fast her to-be-filed stash began to diminish.

  Seeing how much neater her desk could look without the paper clutter, she wondered why she always put off filing. She promised herself she would try to keep things current in the future, even if it meant coming in here and there for an hour on the weekend when there were no interruptions.

  She still couldn’t believe Harlan had given up part of his weekend for Jacob. As good-natured as Harlan was, in all the months she’d worked for him, he’d never met anyone on a Sunday unless there was a significant fee involved. Jacob might have a case with a contingency fee, but he couldn’t have much disposable income. He was only a line cook so he had to make less than Emily and Emily didn’t make much.