by Cate Conte
He looked at me dubiously. “You want four shots of espresso?”
“Oh, trust me. That’s not nearly enough,” I said. “But it’ll have to do for now.”
Chapter 31
I put my new ticket in my wallet and drove straight to the hospital. It took me about twenty minutes to slog through the remaining traffic and pull into the hospital parking lot.
I turned to JJ, who was taking the whole day in stride. “Well, you ready to see what this is all about?” I asked.
He squeaked his response.
“Good. Let’s go.”
I gathered him up and headed to the main entrance. Once inside, I took the closest elevator up to the third floor, where the executive offices were. My dad’s door was open. I was surprised to find his assistant’s desk empty. Anne Marie had been working for him since I was a kid. She was always here, and always one step ahead of whatever my dad needed. He depended on her like he depended on Mom. Sometimes more, if you want the truth. I remembered what my mother had said about her having some problems. I hoped she was okay.
Dad leaned forward in his chair from his inner office to see who it was, then waved at me. “Come on in, Maddie. And JJ. How nice to see you both.”
JJ squeaked at him. He glanced at me. “Did you sneak him in?”
I shrugged. “We took the closest elevator to the door. Hi, Dad.” I leaned over to give him a kiss. “Where’s Anne Marie?” I took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk. “It feels weird not seeing her when I came in.”
He sighed. “Well. That’s actually why I asked you here. Can I get you some coffee? Or would you like to go have lunch downstairs?”
Oh no. I started to get a sinking feeling in my stomach. “Coffee’s fine.” I’d downed my mocha on the way over. “I’m not that hungry,” I said, hoping to stall whatever was coming. Although my poor body wasn’t going to last much longer living on coffee and sugar like this.
Dad got up and went to his Keurig machine. “Dark roast, I’m guessing?” he said over his shoulder.
“You bet. So what do you mean about Anne Marie being why you asked me here?”
Dad said nothing while he waited for the coffee to finish spurting into the little cup, then turned and handed it to me. “First things first. You were at the co-op today?”
“Yeah,” I said, wondering how he knew that.
“And you bumped into Heather Hawthorne?”
“That’s one way to put it,” I said dryly. “Why, Dad?”
He sighed. “I’m sorry to have to say this, Maddie. You know how I feel about certain aspects of my job. But unfortunately there are people…” He trailed off. “Oh, this is crap. Look, just stay away from those crazy people, okay? They’re not nice and everyone knows that, but unfortunately I have to deal with them because of my job. So no more food fights with any of them, understood? Sloan Hawthorne is on the hospital board. I don’t need the headache.”
“Wow. News travels fast around here,” I said when I could find my voice. “Food fight? That lunatic threw Swiss chard at me!”
My dad made a strangled noise that sounded like he was trying to disguise a laugh. “Did you throw anything back at her?”
“I should’ve thrown my fist at her,” I muttered. “But no, Dad, I didn’t. I actually felt bad that she’d lost her twin sister and I wanted to offer my condolences. Although I’m not sure I should’ve, since I heard she could very well have offed her own sister.”
I thought my father was going to choke. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “Maddie! You can’t walk around saying things like that!”
I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back defensively. “Why? She’s nuts.”
“I don’t disagree. But I’m in a spot here, Maddie. And you cannot say things like that.”
“What, did she call Mommy or Daddy and tell them I threatened her?” I asked, indignant.
My dad cleared his throat. “Did you threaten her?”
“No!” I sighed. “Dad. Seriously, I was trying to be nice and she freaked out. She threw greens at me, for God’s sake. And at JJ. I have no desire to have a repeat performance of that, so I don’t plan on seeking her out next time I see her at the co-op. Okay?”
He tried to hide his smile. “That’ll have to do. Thank you, Maddie. Now. On to the important piece of the conversation. Anne Marie’s on leave,” he said, returning to his chair without a cup for himself. “There are a few things going on. One, her husband died recently.”
My hand flew to my mouth. “Oh! How sad.” They’d been married for fifty years or so. Then a horrible thought occurred to me. “Please don’t tell me he was murdered.”
Dad looked aghast. “For the love of God, no. But she’s going to be out for a while. She’s not taking it well. He’d been ill for a couple of months, which understandably was taking up a lot of her time. And she’d been having some health problems of her own, which have been exacerbated by her situation.”
“That’s terrible,” I said. “Poor Anne Marie. I’m so sad.”
Dad nodded. “Me too.”
“So what does all this have to do with me?” I asked, sipping my coffee.
“Well.” Dad took a deep breath. “It’s about the gala.”
“Yeah. Mom said you were stressed.”
“Yes. It’s next week, and … well. I need your help, Maddie,” he said bluntly. “Your mother said you suggested a planner, and we both thought there would be no one better at that than you.”
I sat there, stunned. My first thought was, Oooh, my mother is in for it, using my own words against me.
“There are things Anne Marie always does for this event that just haven’t been getting done,” Dad went on. “Anne Marie tried to make allowances for her absences and recruit help, but no one is as good as her. Plus she has all the contacts, and she’s been doing it so long she can do it in her sleep. People were happy to help when Anne Marie was asking.” He shook his head. “Without her, I’m not having much luck. I have people doing some things, but they can’t get organized. That’s the downside of having an assistant who wanted to oversee this personally. She’s fabulous at it, but when she’s gone, we’re paralyzed.”
“Wait. You need my help? Like what kind of help?” I asked, suspiciously. “If it’s next week, shouldn’t most everything be done?”
Dad tapped his pen against a notepad on his desk. “One would think. But the caterer just quit, and most of the auction items haven’t been confirmed yet, and no one’s been working with the facility on setting up the room, and dear Lord, I shouldn’t know any of this, never mind be concerned about it.” He took a breath. “I’ll pay you, Maddie. And you’ll have people. You just need to tell them what to do and be firm about it. I need a leader. Someone to rally the troops.”
“Dad.” I shook my head. “Isn’t there an events team or something here? You’re seriously telling me one woman did all this every year?”
“An events team?” He actually laughed. “We’re a not-for-profit, honey. And Anne Marie is very good. She had help, she just led them tremendously well and made it fun for everyone. The woman she asked to cover for her has no leadership skills and she got terribly overwhelmed.” He grimaced. “She went out on a medical disability leave. Stress.”
I groaned. “Seriously? Why me, Dad? I’m trying to run a brand-new business.” Why did everyone think they needed my help? Not only was I trying to figure out my own life—professional and personal—but now I was the party planner? Not to mention the one who had to figure out Val’s life too, and give jobs to all the people who needed money, and try to convince Craig and the island cops that Adele hadn’t killed anyone.
Remind me again why I moved home in the first place?
“Because you’re good with details, you know people, and you get things done.” My dad clasped his hands together and smiled at me.
“Val’s better at details,” I said. “She’s just like you. You always say so. And she needs something to keep her
mind off everything.”
He shook his head. “Val’s having a difficult time right now. I’m not sure she’d be able to focus.”
My mouth dropped open. “What do you think I’m having?”
My dad raised an eyebrow. “Maddie. I know I’m not supposed to say this to any of my children, but you are the most together daughter I have. You’re doing amazingly well making this transition back home. You’re keeping your grandfather afloat and giving him a reason to live, which makes your mom happy. You’re running a successful business. Two, actually, because I know your place out West is still running. And your cat café is already the talk of the town. I heard two people discussing it in the waiting room yesterday.”
“Really?” I asked, feeling my chest swell with pride.
“Really. You make me proud every day.” He smiled at me.
Wow. This was a lot of praise from my dad. Who I always knew was proud of me, but still. He wasn’t the type to say it often. I might even cry. “Well,” I managed. “Thanks, Dad.”
“It’s all true.” He paused. “Which is why I know you’ll be perfect helping me with these few details. Here.” He reached into a drawer and pulled out a binder, handed it to me. Buttering me up, apparently, for the big sell.
“What’s this?” I set JJ on the ground and took the book.
“Anne Marie’s binder of what she usually does for the gala. Everything is outlined to a tee. You know how thorough she is.” He winked. “Don’t look so stressed. A lot of it’s been cobbled together. Maybe not terribly well, but it’s done. The big problems are the catering and the auction items. And maybe decorations. I can’t remember.”
The big problems? That sounded like basically the whole event to me. I searched for words, but they were escaping me.
My dad took my dumbfounded silence as agreement. “Thanks, sweetheart. Here.” He scribbled a number on a piece of paper. “Call Charlotte. She’ll get your team together. Now. I have a meeting in ten minutes and I have to prepare a bit. I’ll call you later?”
I let him usher me out, feeling shell-shocked. And scammed. I didn’t think my dad had it in him, but he was good. I went to Grandpa’s truck and sat there for a few minutes, trying to figure out what had just happened. Finally I flipped open the binder and perused the contents. It contained pages for tasks including Organize Mr. J’s guest list and Make sure the caterer has vegetarian and vegan options. The binder looked like it was a hundred pages thick.
I wasn’t a freaking party planner. My dad was crazy. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed my mother at home. She didn’t answer. I tried her cell. Nothing. Ugh. She was totally in cahoots with my dad. He’d probably told her not to answer the phone until I’d had a chance to process this. Which meant, resign myself to the fact that I was doing it.
Wasn’t life supposed to get easier, not harder?
Chapter 32
It took all my energy to drag myself out of bed Tuesday morning. The past few days all seemed like a bad dream. The last couple of sleepless nights had caught up with me, because I’d slept soundly until nearly six. Now I had a bunch of jobs to do, and no real ambition to do anything. I wondered if Adele was still sitting in a holding cell at the police station. If they’d arrested her or let her go, or were keeping her in limbo. Now I wondered if I’d be able to pull this party together for my dad. And if life would ever get back to normal.
What was normal, anyway?
What finally propelled me out of bed was realizing I had a missed call from Lucas from late last night. I’d fallen asleep early and hadn’t heard my phone. I listened to the message. He wanted to have dinner tonight.
“Yes,” I said out loud to the message. “I would love to.” I was about to call him back when I realized it was way too early, so I shot him a text instead. That made me feel a bit better. But I knew I was going to have trouble facing the day—and even the date—unless I got some much-needed perspective. We weren’t opening until noon today, so I had some time.
I threw on some clothes, rounded up JJ, and drove to Jasper’s Tall Tails, Cass’s bookstore/healing center/Tai Chi studio/tea bar/general place of awesomeness. I pulled into the secret little parking lot around back. It was one of the only buildings on Bicycle Street, the main drag in Daybreak Harbor, that had one. The building used to be a two-family house, which allowed it parking spaces. Cass lived upstairs and didn’t have a car. He’d given me permission to use the spaces whenever I needed.
I peered inside. Lights were on. Silly me. I didn’t know if Cass ever slept, but he certainly wouldn’t be asleep at nearly seven. I tried the door. Unlocked. I’d taken one step inside when I heard his voice. Like the voice of God or something.
“I knew you were coming. Lock the door.”
I looked around, spotting him at the back of the store in his tea bar, heating up his various kettles of water and adding them to mini teapots. Without looking up, he said, “Come. I have tea.”
JJ squeaked and ran to him. He loved Cass. Cass bent down and stroked his head.
I locked the door and approached. “I was hoping you would.”
Cass finished his musical teapots then came around and wrapped me in a true Cass bear hug, his grip warm and comforting. I hugged him back around the waist because that was really all I could reach.
He stepped back. “Let me see your tongue,” he instructed.
I stuck my tongue out obediently. This was some ritual Cass had to determine what kind of tea people needed. I didn’t pretend to understand how he did it or what he was looking for. I just knew I usually felt a lot better when he gave me tea, so I didn’t question it.
I sat in one of the chairs while he heated water and poured it over the tea, which usually looked like twigs and sticks and dried-up leaves. Whatever it was, it was magic.
Cass didn’t speak until he’d brought over two teacups full of steaming tea, sat and took a mindful sip. He waited until I did the same, then nodded. “Now. What bothers you?”
“What doesn’t?” I muttered. “Where to start?”
Cass regarded me through the steam rising off his tea. “The beginning?”
“Yeah, well, you know that part. Everything’s been mayhem ever since Holly … died,” I said. “My star volunteer is sitting at the police station being questioned, my sister’s husband was at the scene of the murder, and Val’s sort of falling apart. And I have no idea how to date normal people. Oh, and now I’m not only going to be running my own business, but I’m taking over my dad’s annual hospital fund-raiser gala. Have I left anything out?” I paused for a breath.
He assessed me for a minute, taking slow sips of his tea. “I heard they are questioning Adele,” he said.
“Yeah. It’s wrong. She couldn’t have done it.”
Cass arched an eyebrow. “No?”
“I can’t believe she’d really kill someone. I know she had a temper, and I know she hated Holly. But I feel like if she was going to kill her she’d have just walked up to her and smashed her over the head with something, you know? In a drunken rage. The whole way it was done feels wrong.”
“We might never know why someone does something,” Cass reminded me.
“I know, I know. Maybe I’m crazy. But what about Cole?”
“Your sister,” Cass said. “That worries you most.”
It did. And I had no idea how to handle the problem.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “I mean, either way it’s a bad situation. Either he was over there because he was having an affair with Holly or her sister, or he was involved in this somehow. That’s all it can be, right?”
Cass didn’t offer an opinion.
“She won’t really talk to me. Or anyone.” I sighed. “You know Val. She’s so … closed off. God, I knew I hated Cole Tanner.” I drained my teacup. “I don’t know what to do about her.”
“Ah.” Cass nodded, his silver rings clacking against his cup as he picked it up again. “So what do you want to do?”
“I want her to talk to
me.”
Cass smiled a little. “Is there anything in particular you want her to say?”
I stared at him for a second, then started to laugh. Cass could always cut to the heart of the matter, and he knew me so well. “I want her to tell me she wants to divorce the jerk so I can call a lawyer for her.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
I wasn’t really sure. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I’d thought at the very least the fact that Cole had clearly lied to her about his whereabouts would send Val to divorce court. Combined with the reason for that lie, well, she’d be a fool, right?
But what if that wasn’t enough for her? Val hated change. I hadn’t given much thought to what would happen if Cole was cleared and she went home to him. I’d been happy she might finally be rid of him.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I mean, nothing, I guess. I just … wish she’d see the light.”
“Why?” Cass asked. There was no judgment in the question, just curiosity.
“Why?” I repeated. “Because he’s a jerk.”
Cass smiled again. “But you are not your sister.”
“I know, but—”
Cass cut me off by holding up his index finger until I went silent, then he rose from his chair and vanished into the stacks of books. I waited, resigned. Cass returned a few minutes later holding a book. “You’re not meditating,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
I sighed. “I’m trying. I haven’t spiritually evolved enough to sit still for ten minutes without my mind flooding with a million other things though.”
“Doesn’t matter. The point is, you bring your attention back when it wanders.” He handed me the book. 365 Tao Daily Meditations. “Every day, one meditation,” he said.
I didn’t see how this was going to help me handle this mess today, but I knew better than to argue with Cass. “Okay,” I said. “But—”
He held up that finger again. A ring covered nearly the whole thing, an oval design with spirals covering it. “Just sit with it.”