by Cassie Page
Brooks said, “By the way, how’s Cody?”
“He’ll live.”
He accepted the brush off and said sarcastically, “I’d love to chat, Olivia, but JR’s waiting.”
She walked back into The Salted Caramel to replace the spilled coffee, more determined than ever to meet with Matt.
Chapter Thirty-Three: The Friends and Family Rate
Or she was until she returned home to change out of her coffee-soaked duds and ended up in an impromptu crime-busting consultation with Tuesday.
“No way girlfriend.”
They were in the kitchen where Tuesday was concocting some smelly brew to cleanse her innards or put a shine on her hair. Olivia had lost track. Tuesday pointed down the hall to the bedrooms with her finger to her lips. Cody staggered back to Olivia’s bed after she left and had been snoring ever since, so they kept their voices low.
Olivia shucked off her jacket and kicked off her coffee stained shoes. The two lattes that Carrie had carefully re-brewed sat on the island, growing cold.
“But how else will I nab the killer, now that I know who did it?”
She pointed to the coffee. “Want one?”
Tuesday said no, so Olivia put the two cups in the refrigerator for iced coffee later and slid onto one of the wobbly stools. She’d yet to pick up the levelers.
Tuesday argued her point hard. “Your plan is too dangerous. Have Matt arrange for a search warrant. You know what he said. Let the police handle it.”
Olivia shook her head. “No way. I’m going to have to go after the briefcase myself. By the time Matt gets a search warrant, if I could even convince him it’s worthwhile, the evidence could disappear by then.”
“I guess you’re right,” Tuesday said, downing her herbal tonic.
But Olivia still had a problem. “How am I going to get my hands on it? JR Payne is not going to hand it over to me. Heck, if I come within a mile of him he’ll probably have me arrested.”
Tuesday held up a cup and a box of tea.
Olivia grimaced. “Another reading?”
Tuesday persisted. “Did we see a snake in your cup?
Reluctantly, Olivia nodded yes.
“Is JR Payne researching a snakebite treatment or is he not?”
“Yes, he is, but I can’t see what that has to do with the murder.”
“I’m not saying it does. Just that the tea leaves don’t lie.”
Olivia rolled it around in her head for a moment, then, with grave misgivings, agreed to another reading.
Tuesday set the water to boil while Olivia tiptoed down the hallway and around the sleeping Cody for a fresh outfit from her closet, changing in the bathroom on her way back to the kitchen.
When Olivia finished her cup, she turned it upside down to distribute the leaves and pushed it across the table.
“Here. Do your thing. I’m all ears,” she said, trying to ignore the feeling of dread in her stomach.
Tuesday wrapped her special scarf around the cup and began to look for patterns.
Olivia whispered, “Just don’t give me bad news.”
Tuesday took her time examining the shapes in the cup. Olivia couldn’t stand the tension anymore.
“Don’t keep me hanging like this. What do you see?”
Tuesday exhaled a long breath. “This one is a puzzle, OMG. Are you holding out on me?”
Olivia grabbed the cup out of her hands to have a look. But as always, it was indecipherable to her, except for a clump of leaves that made her think of a microphone. “What do you mean, am I holding out? I tell you my innermost. You know that.”
Tuesday snatched the cup back. “Are you taking acting lessons behind my back?”
She pointed to the side of the cup with an airy arrangement of leaves. “See this bee? I see it all the time in my readings for actors. It means there’s an audience around you. Have you signed up for one of those focus groups where people listen to what you have to say? Are you sure you’re not into performing, or thinking about it?”
Olivia pushed away from the table. “That’s it. I’m done. I knew this would be a waste of time. I know you’re a genius at what you do, Tues, but it just never works for me. I’m sorry. It’s going to take more than a cup of tea to nail the creep who killed Jocelyn.”
Olivia had turned off her phone during the reading and now she checked her messages. In the space of ten minutes, Charles had left three.
“I gotta go downstairs and call Charles. He’s wigging out. Probably needs some TLC over Franny. We good?”
Tuesday gave her a hug. “We’re always good. As long as you invite me to your opening.”
“If my business ever tanks I may need a new line of work. But trust me, it’s not going to be doing a song and dance act in public.”
Charles picked up on the first ring. “Olivia, I’m going crazy.”
This was roughly where Olivia had left him earlier that morning. “Tell me what’s happened.”
“It’s Marguerite. I know she has my best interests at heart, but she’s made things worse. She called Francesca and gave her an earful about how she can’t ruin the party and she has to get her bohonkus back here and patch things up with me.”
Olivia sank into her desk chair and put her head in her hand. “Oh, no. She didn’t. And I take it Franny didn’t like her advice?”
“I just got off the phone with her. She thinks I put Marguerite up to it and is even madder at me now than she was before. Says I humiliated her. But I swear, Olivia. I never asked Marguerite to step in. It never even occurred to me.”
Olivia realized that maybe Marguerite could get people to bend to her will in business, but as a matchmaker she had a lot to learn.
“I’m sorry, Charles. Marguerite doesn’t need an invitation to meddle. She thinks she can run the world. I’ll call Franny. I can’t make her come back to you, but I can get you off the hook on this one.”
“Thanks, Olivia. Hey, listen. Did you hear that JR is in the hospital?”
“What? Are they having a family reunion over there?”
“I don’t know about that, but they think his cancer has come back or something.”
Olivia had a pang of regret for the man. She didn’t like him, but she didn’t wish cancer on anyone. “That’s too bad, I’ll see what I can find out on the news. But first, let me call Francesca. I’ll tell you how it goes.”
“Thanks, Olivia.”
“And Charles, remember, I’m your guy.”
He hung up without returning the pledge, a sure sign Charles was deep in the blues and a cheery word from his friend wasn’t going to dig him out of this one.
Olivia pulled her phone away from her ear to drown out Francesca’s tirade. “She was just trying to help, Franny. Of course I know she shouldn’t have done it, but trust me, Charles had nothing to do with it. Marguerite Fredericks is a force of nature. Even if I knew she was planning to order you back to Charles, I couldn’t have stopped her.”
Francesca was noncommittal when Olivia said keep in touch. They hung up and Olivia sat staring out at the withering bougainvillea through her bay window. Like all the other bougainvilleas she had invested in over the past year, it was clinging desperately to the back fence, all stalks and thorns, not a leaf or luxurious deep pink bud to be seen. A freak chill wind always seemed to bear down onto her property with the express intention, she believed, of decimating her Beautiful B’s.
When she brought this one home from Sloat Nursery she was determined to keep it alive, yet Mother Nature had defeated her again. Why didn’t she just give up on them, she wondered? Like she should give up on nailing Jocelyn’s murderer and fixing Charles’s ailing relationship. To say nothing of her own relationship. Maybe she and Matt were just too high maintenance. She needed someone easy, someone who liked to do things her way. Or, maybe she didn’t need anyone at all. Perhaps it was time to throw in the towel and become a hermit. At least as far as men were concerned.
She thought about that for a mome
nt, trying the idea of permanent singlehood on for size. She thought. Yeah. Why don’t I just do that?
And then, as if she had just received a slap on the back of her head, she said out loud, “Because that’s not the way I roll. I don’t give up.”
With that, she opened her laptop and got to work, making notes for the next hour on the old fashioned pink Guess Who Called pad she used to take messages from her answering service.
After a while, writer’s cramp drove her upstairs for a break. Tuesday was still in the kitchen, this time preparing a fresh ice pack for Cody.
Olivia said, “I’m going to watch the news. Charles said JR is in the hospital now.”
After checking on her own patient, Tuesday came into the living room where the hourly update filled the screen. “Do you think they’re giving the Payne clan the friends and family rate?”
It turned out that JR Payne had just been discharged from the hospital. A news flash showed him standing in front of a gaggle of reporters explaining his recent health scare. His doctor stepped forward to elaborate.
“Normally, this is a very benign event,” he began by way of background, “but in a patient with a compromised immune system, such as Mr. Payne has from his recent chemotherapy, we have to take precautions. Dr. Payne will return this afternoon for another round of treatments. Because of the media interest in his family’s affairs, he has agreed to give you an update at that time.”
JR held up his bandaged hand.
Olivia mumbled, “Wonder what happened to him.”
Then, a reporter asked the question on Olivia’s mind. What exactly was the benign event? The doctor named the affliction.
Olivia turned off the TV and started dancing around the living room and singing, “That’s it, that’s it. You’re mine, JR Payne. You are all mine.”
She grabbed Tuesday and started whirling her around. “You are the best tea leaf reader in the universe.”
Tuesday laughed giddily as they spun around. “I know, but where did that come from?”
“You were absolutely right. I’m going to put on a performance of a lifetime today.”
Chapter Thirty-Four: Ready For My Close-Up
Cody staggered out of the bedroom and into the bathroom while Olivia and Tuesday concocted their plan for the afternoon. He emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later in a billow of steam from his hot shower, still in yesterday’s clothes, blood stained tee shirt and all. He walked into the kitchen gingerly patting dry his swollen cheek with a towel.
“Wassup, guys,” he said.
Tuesday jumped down from her stool and gave him a hug, which seemed to embarrass him.
Olivia grimaced at his wounds. “We have to find some humongous sunglasses to cover up that shiner.”
Tuesday added, “And how about some pancake makeup to change the purple and yellow to something found in nature.”
Since he’d slept through breakfast, Cody searched the refrigerator for some juice and milk for his cereal. “You’re not covering up anything, dude. These are my battle scars. I’m playing the sympathy card all day, every day. Chicks are going to be all over me when they see my face. What’s been going on behind my back?”
Olivia filled him in.
Cody fist pumped when he heard the plan. “Man, count me in on that action.”
“No way, Cody. I’m responsible for you and you are staying home and resting.”
He pulled out a chair and slurped a spoonful of cereal. “How old am I? Twelve? Oh, no. I forgot. I’m an adult. I make my own decisions. You couldn’t keep me away with a hot poker.”
Reluctantly, Olivia agreed, first extracting a promise that he would stay in the background. “We can’t have you collapsing and spoiling the surprise.”
“Done and done,” he said gleefully. “As soon I finish this, I’ll put on a suit and tie.”
Tuesday smirked, “The one you wear for your GQ photo shoots?”
Cody smirked back. “The very one.”
Olivia said, “I’ll be in the war room,” and headed downstairs.
As soon as news about her involvement in Jocelyn Payne’s death hit the airwaves, her phones started ringing off the hook. Since then, she screened her calls with more than her usual care. But when a call from the Peninsula announced itself, she searched her brain to think of someone she knew down there who would use her private number. Her vendors in Burlingame and San Mateo always used her office phone. Could it be a Peninsula blogger trying to get a quote about the murder? Should she answer?
On the second ring she said hello hesitantly with her finger on the button to disconnect the call if it was a troublemaker like Awful Arlo.
“Olivia?”
She vaguely recognized the woman’s voice. “Yes?”
“It’s Bonnie.”
Bonnie? She didn’t know a Bonnie.
The woman forged ahead, brusque and out of sorts. “You shouldn’t have given me that gorgeous plant if you were going to send someone to take it back.”
Plant? What was she talking about? “Are you sure you have the right Olivia,” she said.
The woman scolded, “My how quickly they forget.”
And then Olivia blurted out, “Bonnie! You’re the jade plant Bonnie.”
“Exactly. Now would you tell me why this man wants it back?”
“What man? I don’t understand?”
“Xavier somebody. He says it belongs to him. Do you know him? Ron is ready to call the police.”
Olivia almost dropped her phone. “Xavier? What’s he doing with you? He wants the plant back? I don’t know what this is about, Bonnie. Let me talk to him.”
Xavier got on the phone, but would only say, “Jes?”
“Xavier,” Olivia insisted, “if you don’t tell me what this is all about I’m going to let her call the cops. What’s the big deal with a Costco plant? Buy another. Do you know what this is doing to my public relations?”
Xavier’s answer was uncharacteristically sullen. “You have no idea what this is doing to my business. You have to tell her to give me that plant back.”
He was hissing into the phone, keeping his voice low. Olivia assumed Bonnie was hovering at his elbow.
“Xavier, if you’re not going to tell me what this all about, then I suggest you buy the plant back from her. How much did you pay for it?”
Olivia flashed on Bonnie, the high school sweatshirt, the bad haircut, the sweet way she had with her husband. The sacrifices she made for her kids. Olivia wanted her to have that plant.
Xavier whispered, “Fifteen dollars.”
Olivia yelped into the phone, “Fifteen dollars? Is that what this is about?”
She waited for Xavier to come up with an explanation. When he remained silent, she said, “You’re going to pay for this insult to a harmless, perfectly nice woman. Put two zeros after that number and start negotiating from there.”
Olivia could actually hear Xavier gulp.
“And call me when you get back to Darling Valley. You have some questions to answer. I have to go now. We have a lead on the killer.”
Olivia pulled into the hospital’s Visitor Lot. Matt and Detective Johnson were already there, a DVPD placard on the windshield claiming their spot in a red zone by the front door. A California Highway Patrol car was on the opposite side of the entrance that had nothing to do with their operation. It probably had accompanied an accident victim to the hospital. The DVPD squad car was nowhere to be seen. Matt had told her he and Johnson would handle this on their own. Backup wasn’t far away if they needed any.
Olivia looked around, but the press hadn’t arrived yet. That made her nervous. If another news event had occurred and drew them to a sexier story, this scheme would be a bust. Matt would forgive her, but how would she explain herself to Detective Johnson?
She looked from Tuesday to Cody. “Gang, cross your fingers that nobody has shot the president and stolen our thunder.”
“Don’t you worry, pardner,” Tuesday said. “We’re gon
na cut him off at the pass.”
Cody leaned against the truck. Olivia gave him a look.
“I’m cool, dude,” he said. But she thought he looked a little green.
The time of the press conference as announced by the local news was an approximation. But soon Olivia could see into the glassed-in hospital lobby. An attendant was rolling JR, in a wheelchair, off an elevator and up to the wall of windows that looked out onto the parking lot. She hadn’t expected him to be sitting down. She didn’t like this. Maybe her plan wasn’t going to work after all. She saw the patient check his watch. Probably he was eager for the press to show up as well.
Olivia paced next to her truck, out of sight of Payne. Matt was leaning against the trunk of his car, his eyes shifting from the hospital to the parking lot.
Soon the press cars began to arrive. JR made a phone call as they crowded around in front of the lobby. The doctor who had promised the follow-up press briefing arrived quickly, apparently summoned by JR. The attendant pressed the button to open the automatic doors. Olivia, Tuesday and Cody joined the press corps, hiding behind the taller members so JR wouldn’t see them. The attendant set the brake on the wheelchair.
“What are we going to do,” Cody worried. “He’s sitting down.”
Olivia shook her head. “Let’s just keep our eyes peeled.” She flashed a look over at Matt. He nodded imperceptibly, alert, watchful.
Tuesday whispered, “Sheep-dip. He doesn’t have it with him.”
Olivia mouthed, “I know,” and her shoulders sagged.
The physician approached the microphones. “Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Payne has asked me to give you an update on his condition. As you know, he recently received a course of chemotherapy for a recurrence of cancer, which, we are happy to say, is in remission. However, his immune system remains compromised. Consequently, he experienced a severe reaction to a relatively minor wound he received recently. However, we instituted an aggressive course of antibiotic therapy and his tests this afternoon show that the drugs arrested the infection and he is out of the woods. We expect a complete recovery. Mr. Payne will answer questions, but please keep them brief. I have ordered him home for a few days of bed rest.”