Adieu at the Zoo_A Jefferson Zoo Mystery

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Adieu at the Zoo_A Jefferson Zoo Mystery Page 14

by Harol Marshall


  “Do you have your key?”

  I held up the house key I’d retrieved from my purse and aimed it at the lock, missing by about half-an-inch.

  “Let me get that for you,” he said, taking the key from my shaky hand. “Will you be all right by yourself today?”

  “Yes, I’m good. A little weak, that’s all. I plan to spend the day sleeping, so I’ll be fine.” I remembered Jodie sitting in the van and turned around to wave good-bye. “Bye, Jo, see you tomorrow.”

  “Probably not a good idea to go in to work tomorrow,” Dan advised.

  “You might be right. I’ll see how I feel.” I pushed open the front door. If Jodie weren’t waiting for a ride home, I might have invited him in. Instead, I turned and thanked him for the ride.

  “No problem,” he said. “Text me or give me a call if you need anything. You do text, don’t you, Sam?” He grinned like he was about to plant a kiss on my lips, but much as I liked sympathy I wouldn’t have appreciated a sympathy kiss. Not from Dan.

  “Yes, I text, thank you.”

  I closed the front door and watched as Dan backed his van onto the road and took off in the direction of Jodie’s house. I could see her bending his ear already. I hoped she wouldn’t decide to chat with him about me. As well as I know Jodie, I had no clue what she might say.

  I should have been more worried, but I felt so miserable I couldn’t wait to get into my own bed and sleep the day away. I thought about showering first, but I was too tired. In fact, I was so exhausted that my lumpy ten-year old mattress actually felt good. I shut off my cell phone and entered dreamland in less than a minute.

  Hours later, I awoke to my alarm clock buzzing. With my eyes still closed, I reached over and gave the snooze button a whack, but the noise continued. I opened my eyes, realizing I’d slept through the whole day. Dark shadows filled the room as the twilight of evening eased its way into my bedroom window. I tried to make sense of the insistent sound assaulting my ears, finally realizing it came from my doorbell.

  I struggled out of bed, grabbed my bathrobe and slipped it on as I padded down the hall to my front room. Peeping through the small window at the top of my front door, I could see the back of Dan Saunder’s head.

  Oh, good grief, no. I looked worse than I had in the hospital. I opened the door a crack and peeked out, only my eyes visible.

  “Hi Dan.”

  “Did I wake you, Sam?”

  “No,” I told him, “I had to get up to answer the door.”

  I heard him laugh, which I appreciated, because that joke was older than dirt. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I’d offer to come back, but I brought dinner. I can leave it on the porch if you don’t want me to come in, but it’s dinner for two and I’m pretty hungry.”

  I couldn’t resist that great smile. “I’ll tell you what,” I said. “I need to freshen up, which might take me an hour or two, but I’ll leave the door open for you. Just give me a few seconds to disappear first, would you?”

  “Sure. Take your time. Is the kitchen easy to find?”

  “Hang a left,” I said, “and make yourself at home.

  I opened the door a little wider and turned around to limp down the hall to my bedroom. Given the shape I was in, I surprised myself at how fast I could move when the situation demanded.

  I removed my new turquoise blouse from its padded hanger, the only one I own, and laid it on the bed. Silk was a little fancy for munching pizza on my couch, but that blouse looked so good on me and at this point I needed all the help I could get. I’d dress it down with a pair of jeans and my flip flops, or maybe I’d just go barefoot since barefoot could be kind of sexy. Listen to me! Coming within a few feet of Dan Saunders and I sounded like an ad for Matchmakers Unlimited. I needed to get a grip.

  I turned on the shower and let it run, warming my skin while I carefully shampooed my hair to protect the bandage on my forehead. I wondered if Dan was just feeling sorry for me because of my accident, but I didn’t care. At least, he wasn’t having dinner with that blonde.

  When I felt better, I thought, I’d put Jodie to work uncovering her identity. I needed to know my competition. Blonde hair isn’t everything and I have the advantage of proximity—at least between the hours of eight and five, so maybe she should start looking for another main man.

  Chapter 38

  I took a little longer than usual with the hair dryer because heat anywhere near my bandaged head hurt like crazy, but I finally managed to dry my hair. I turned to makeup next, not something I’m expert at, but I managed.

  Next, I applied a thick coating of cover-up on my bruised face, added some light pink lipstick, and turquoise eye shadow. I skipped the eyeliner for fear of overdoing it and tied my hair in a ponytail that I looped into something resembling a chignon. I held it in place with my turquoise and black butterfly clip, which I felt was a little more zoo-like than the pearl and silver number I wore to dinner with Nelson Farthington.

  Finishing my makeover, I surveyed the results in my full-length mirror. If it weren’t for the glaring bandage across my forehead, I’d say the transformation from my workaday self to the image looking back at me was sufficient to wow one Dan Saunders. At least I hoped to impress him, because I had high hopes of spending a romantic evening with him once we polished off the pizza, blonde girlfriend be damned.

  I wondered what kind of pizza he brought. I hate anchovies and pepperoni, but I could always figure a way to pick those off without offending. I left my bedroom for the living room, which is where I expected to see Dan hanging out, but the room was empty. As I rounded the corner into the dining room, Dan turned around and I heard him suck in his breath, a satisfying sound.

  “You look terrific,” he said, his voice a little on the hoarse side. “How do women do that thing, anyway?”

  “That thing?”

  “Dab on a little makeup and come out looking like a movie star.”

  I appreciated the compliment and started to tell him it was harder than it seemed, but he took my elbow, turned me around and guided me to my table, which was set with real plates and the good silverware I keep tucked away in the top drawer of my mother’s buffet.

  A vase of flowers glowed in candlelight in the middle of the table, a prettier bouquet than the grandiose flower arrangement from Nelson Farthington, which had taken up most of the limited space on my coffee table.

  “I cooked dinner for you,” he said with a shrug. “I hope you like it.”

  I tried to talk but nothing came out. Here I was supposed to wow him, and instead, he was wowing me.

  “Nothing could have made me happier,” I told him, trying hard not to cry, but a tear or two slid out anyway. I could have kicked myself, especially after all the time I’d spent on my makeup.

  Dan leaned over and pulled me close, lifting my chin and planting a lingering kiss on my lips. If this was the first course, I thought, I couldn’t wait for dessert. I had the distinct impression he wasn’t any more interested in bringing that kiss to an end than I was, but at some point, we both pulled away.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I am now.”

  “Then let’s have dinner. First course is soup.” He pulled out a chair and I gingerly sat down. “But first some wine. California chardonnays are my favorite.” He paused, wine bottle in hand. “Oops, I almost forgot. What about your medicine?”

  “Yeah, I’d better pass,” I told him, “which is too bad because chardonnays are a favorite of mine, too.”

  He pushed the cork back in the bottle. “I’ll pass, as well. Maybe next time,” he said, disappearing into the kitchen for the soup.

  Hugs, kisses, wine, soup, maybe next time? I needed to tell Jodie to forget about that Mexican waiter. Dan Saunders knew how to kiss and he liked to cook! How lucky could I be?

  Within minutes he returned with two soup bowls, placing the first one in front of me. It smelled absolutely to-die-for scrumptious. “Seafood bisque,” he said, raising his water glass in a toast
. “Here’s to your health.”

  I reached across the table and clinked glasses with him. I wanted to add, ‘and here’s to us,’ but I didn’t have the nerve, so I punted with, “and to friends who bring friends dinner.”

  We each drank a sip looking at each other over our water glasses. I worried my heart might stop.

  “Let me know how you like the soup.”

  “It smells wonderful.” I filled my soupspoon and carried the precious cargo to my mouth, pinching myself that I hadn’t died and gone to heaven because it tasted so good. “Where did you learn to cook like this?”

  “My mother was a restaurant chef, so I grew up on gourmet food. I knew if I wanted to eat well for the rest of my life I’d better learn a few of my mother’s secrets. She loved teaching me to cook, still does, though I cook more than she does these days.”

  I realized I knew nothing about Dan’s personal life.

  “Where does she live?”

  “She’s in a retirement home down in High Point. My dad died six years ago and she hated living alone. After I moved to North Carolina, she followed. She has a good life here with lots to do and the food at the retirement home meets her standards.” He laughed. “Which is the most important thing for her.” He looked at my empty soup bowl. “Do you want more or are you ready for the second course?”

  “Both,” I said, before I caught myself.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Is the second course a surprise?”

  “Chicken piccata with tomato and broccoli over linguine. Sound good?”

  “Sounds heavenly.”

  “More soup?”

  “Maybe tomorrow,” I told him, already planning on leftovers.

  We finished our chicken piccata and were munching on our after dinner salad to clean our palates, ‘like they do in Europe,’ Dan said, when the doorbell rang. I hoped it wasn’t Jodie.

  I turned to Dan with a shrug. “I guess I’ll have to see who’s there since I’m obviously at home.”

  He nodded and gave me a good-natured grin even though I was ready to throttle the person whose finger rested on my doorbell. I headed to the door hoping to see a salesperson or one of my neighbors, anyone I could send away with no fuss. Six feet away, I spotted Bob Anderson peering through the glass, and immediately regretted rooting against the presence of Jodie. Accompanying Bob was his wife Marlene. It must be my lucky night, I thought, as they each gave me a sympathetic smile.

  “You look great,” Bob said. “I’d hardly recognize you as the same person I talked with in the hospital this morning.”

  Marlene reached out and gave me a hug. “I was so sorry to hear what happened to you, dear,” she said, bending down to pick up a large shopping bag. “We brought dinner.”

  “How nice,” I murmured, opening the door and motioning them inside. “Come on in. You’re my second dinner delivery of the night, but I’ll take all the food I can get.”

  As if on cue, Dan strolled out of the dining room and by the look on Bob’s face you could have knocked him over with a tobacco leaf, which is the least of what I wanted to do to him for interrupting my amorous evening.

  “Dan,” Bob said, reaching out to shake Dan’s hand.

  “Uh-oh,” Marlene added. “I think we’ve just ruined someone’s romantic dinner.”

  “Please join us,” I told her, pulling out the chair next to mine and trying to figure out how to deflect her romantic dinner comment. “Dan was feeling sorry for me and brought over dinner. Did you know he can cook?”

  “A man of many talents,” Bob said.

  Before anyone could say more, the doorbell rang again.

  “Must be the postman,” Marlene quipped, a little too cheerily.

  “He always rings twice,” she added, her usual sophisticated demeanor degenerating into inanity.

  Chapter 39

  A hand waving back and forth across the window in my front door announced Ginger’s presence. In an irrational moment, I found myself hoping she’d brought her husband, Jimmy, so we’d have an even number around the dinner table.

  I opened the door to another hug and squeeze. “What nasty news,” Ginger said. “I’m so glad you’re okay, sweetie.”

  “Me, too,” Jimmy added, hugging me and announcing, “We brought dinner, or I should say, Ginger cooked, I carried.”

  “Join the party.”

  I waved them in, concerned Dan might be as annoyed as I was with all these people popping in on our little dinner, but what are friends for if not to intrude on your life? Nothing to do now, but relax and enjoy it, and Dan did mention a next time. I could only hope.

  Everyone spent the next few minutes, ooh-ing and ah-ing over the food selections and exclaiming about the coincidences of thinking to bring me dinner. Fortunately, Ginger took over coordinating the food along with Marlene’s help. Bob and Jimmy followed their wives into the kitchen leaving Dan and me alone at the table for another minute or two.

  We exchanged glances and I mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

  He smiled. “Party time.”

  Having no idea what he’d concocted for dessert, I asked. “What did you bring for dessert, anyway?”

  “Crème brûlée,” he said, pronouncing the words perfectly.

  “Really? Crème brûlée that you made yourself?” He nodded. “And do you do that little thing with the tiny blow torch?”

  “No,” he laughed, “I put it under the broiler and let the oven do the browning.”

  I was impressed. There was more to this man than good looks and an engaging smile and I needed to find out how much more I was missing. However, the discovery would have to wait for another day. By the time my dinner guests returned to the table with various portions of food and drink, the conversation naturally turned to Jodie’s and my accident.

  Next came a discussion of recent events at the zoo with everyone wondering whether the driver who ran Jodie and me off the road was the same person who murdered Jack and ran Andy off the road.

  “Jodie thinks it was Tony Pope,” I said, “and that he’s trying to scare her off, but I’m not so sure. Tony doesn’t own a pickup and Tony, Jack, and Jodie had all been friends in high school. It doesn’t sound logical to me. I think maybe it’s someone who has a grudge against me.”

  No one seemed to buy my explanation. Instead, agreement coalesced around Jodie’s hypothesis, but I held my ground. “Cousins don’t kill cousins,” I argued, which gained little traction among those gathered at my table.

  Fortunately, no one asked who might have a grudge against me, so I was saved from having to lie about the two prime candidates, Nate and Alice Pickett, and maybe Mooney, too, though I was less certain about him. My hypothesis had its share of weaknesses. Neither person drove a pickup as far as I knew. I doubted Alice ever set foot in such a lowly vehicle and Nate would be too lazy to borrow a truck just to run Jodie and me off the road. He had more devious ways of getting even with us.

  I decided to join the majority opinion and mentioned the fact that Tony Pope once hung out at the Farthington estate. I never brought up the matter of the pickup truck I’d spotted out on the conservation tract, mostly because I had no interest in turning attention to the one topic for which I had yet to clear my name. Raising the issue would only embarrass Bob, something I wanted to avoid, and besides, it may have had no bearing on our discussion.

  As the hands on my wall clock approached the ten o’clock position, my doorbell rang again. Whoever was on my porch this time was too short to appear in the window. I guessed correctly before opening the door.

  “Hey, Sam, are you having a party without me?”

  “Not intentionally, Jo, but come on in.”

  “No, I’m on my way home. I had a couple of things to talk to you about, but they can wait. Will you be at work tomorrow?”

  I lowered my voice. “I have to. Bob’s here and he knows I’m not in as bad a shape as I look.”

  “I’d say you look pretty good. In fact, better tha
n usual, which tells me Dan’s here, plus I saw his van outside along with Ginger’s car and Bob’s, so I had to stop.”

  “Then why don’t you come in and at least have dessert with us. There are three choices, all good ones.”

  “You twisted my arm,” she said, marching straight to the dining room table where my dinner guests sat drinking coffee and talking over one another.

  Once Jodie sat down, Dan glanced between Jodie and me before making an announcement. “I don’t know who’s behind your car accident,” he said, “but it’s been worrying the hell out of me, so I went to the sheriff today and asked him to keep both your houses under surveillance.”

  “And what did he say?” Jodie asked.

  “He said to consider it done, so you both can sleep well tonight and so can I.”

  “Thanks for doing that,” I told him, wondering why he waited so long to tell me. “That was really thoughtful of you. I’m hoping the whole matter was nothing more than some redneck who decided to have a little bump and run like his race driver role model. In fact, I read this short story once about a guy who drove around the country killing people with his car…” My voice trailed off as I noticed the strange looks on my guests’ faces.

  Dan rebounded first. “I’d rather not take chances, and the sheriff agrees. The deputy will check in with each of you,” which he did barely five minutes later. Jodie followed me to the door and asked whether another deputy was at her house already.

  “Billy’s over there,” said the deputy, who stood fidgeting on my porch.

  Jodie turned around to me. “Figures. Probably his punishment. I hope I don’t end up having to protect him.”

  The party broke up about an hour later with Bob reminding everyone about work the next day. I was exhausted and way past ready for my guests to leave.

  Bob reached for my hand. From the look on his face, I thought he was about to kiss it, but he held onto it, saying, “I don’t want you coming in tomorrow. You’re to stay home and sleep the day away. Let your body heal.”

 

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