by Cindy Davis
“You told me it was one of your favorites.”
“When did I say that?”
“The second day we met. I figured you wouldn’t have eaten today and thought this might be just what the doctor ordered.” He forked some of the food for himself.
“I did eat. Helen brought chili.”
Aden smiled slyly, stabbed a piece of crab and raised it to her mouth. Her stomach growled again. Two against one. She chewed, savoring the sheer wonder of the flavors.
“I found this recipe in an old cookbook of my mother’s.”
“You made this?” Suspicion overwhelmed the wonderful scents. So, where had he been all evening?
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing. Come on, you’re going to make a guy think he slaved all afternoon for nothing. A roll?”
“No thank you.”
The fork clattered to the table. He grasped her hands. Her first instinct was to pull away. Her brain suddenly cluttered with thoughts that had no place being there. She kept reminding herself Aden meant nothing; he was just a considerate neighbor. He’d be out of her life soon, just like everyone else she’d ever loved.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” he whispered in her ear.
“Yes.”
“Lean on me. I’ll be strong for you.”
“Aden, I can’t do that. I’ve got to learn to depend on myself. To face up to life.”
He laughed. “That sounds like analyst talk.”
She let a smile poke through the serious set to her lips. “It was, but she was right. How can I make it if I can’t depend on me to be there when I need me?” She laughed now. “That didn’t come out right.”
“I know what you mean.”
Aden held her for a long time. She listened to the steady thump-thump of his heart. She felt both energized and weakened at the same time. He put two fingers under her chin and tilted it up. His lips were soft and gentle at first. The tip of his tongue traced the outline of her mouth and she accepted his tongue inside. She returned the kisses.
His hand left her chin and traced a path down the front of her blouse. She felt each finger even though he put no pressure at all. She didn’t react when the fingers fumbled with the buttons. Nor did she try to stop him when he swept her into his arms and carried her upstairs.
Payton woke to the sunlight streaming through her bedroom windows. She rolled on her right side to put her arm around Aden, but found his side of the bed empty. The bedclothes were turned back and thoroughly rumpled, so it hadn’t been just an amazing dream. The shower wasn’t running. There was no happy whistling in the bathroom.
“Aden?” No answer. She really hadn’t expected one. He’d used her and gone home.
Payton rolled onto her stomach and cried into her pillow, feeling as empty as the container of seafood fettucini on the kitchen table. She sobbed for a very long time. A sound from downstairs made her squint at the clock, 9:30. Mamie.
She just about flung herself to the shower. Pausing only a moment to look at red-rimmed eyes in the mirror, Payton turned on the faucet and got hit with a blast of frigid water.
The aroma of brewing coffee trickled upstairs. She lifted her nose and sniffed, then smiled. Perhaps he hadn’t deserted her after all. Payton usually lingered in her closet, trying to choose just exactly the right outfit, but today she picked the things closest to her hand.
Downstairs, on the counter, was one plate containing a cellophane-wrapped muffin. One spoon, one knife, one fork. He’d set the timer on the coffeemaker.
The sudden urge for tears was pushed aside as she noticed a sheet of her pink notepaper propped against the plate.
My Dearest,
I have to leave town. An emergency I must tend to. More sorry than I can say. Last night was wonderful. Please call my cell phone if you need anything. Anything.
Regards, Aden
The second anything was bolded. He’d traced over the letters two or three times with the pen. She crumpled the paper and tossed it into the wastebasket, poured a cup of coffee, savoring the first sip and letting it slid down her throat. Hot, smooth, sweet. Just like his gentle yet mind-blowing lovemaking.
Payton gave an indignant huff and dumped the remaining coffee down the sink. She turned off the pot and gulped down the newest barrage of regrets. As she picked up her raincoat and umbrella, intending to take it back to work, the front door opened and Mamie came in.
“Good morning,” she chirped. “What a beautiful day. Isn’t life wonderful?”
“It is,” Payton lied.
She went to her office and put yesterday’s bookkeeping and an order printout for plants into her backpack. She slipped the straps over her shoulders and said good-bye to Mamie, who had already busied herself refilling the spaces of three items she’d sold yesterday.
“See you later,” Mamie twittered, sounding like the robins on the front lawn.
They hopped and pecked and plucked worms without a care in the world. Payton, her legs feeling as heavy as lead, walked to work. She passed Aden’s house, determined not to look for his car in the drive. But her brain had other ideas and turned her head in that direction anyway. No car.
She stood in the doorway of her shop, absorbing the aromas of herbs and flowers and soil, hoping they’d help improve her mood. They did, a little. She inhaled one last time before moving the ficus trees outside to the sidewalk. She picked off a few dead leaves and tried not to think about Sergeant Espinoza’s official vehicle parked in front of the café. A second car bearing the Coast Guard logo parked behind his. She saw movement inside the restaurant and a number of people near the windows.
Payton put the money into the cash register drawer and set the timer for the water on the patio. She placed a phone order; a dozen African violets, three each of oregano, thyme and sage, a dozen mixed ivy and a half-dozen monkshood. The front door opened and two women entered. Payton gave them a brief glance and a good morning. She shut the patio water off. The women browsed for a half hour, bought the last of the miniature African violets and left without asking any questions or making the slightest reference to Sean.
Payton sat on the stool behind her counter and put her head in her hands. Would the authorities think she had a motive to want Sean dead? Was it enough motivation to want her past to remain hidden? Most definitely yes. What if she swore Sean never told her what he’d learned?
At 1:00, Sergeant Espinoza and another officer stood on the sidewalk. Espinoza held a sheaf of papers in his left hand and shook them in the air while he spoke. Once or twice they glanced toward Payton’s shop but neither made a move to cross the street.
An excited female voice called from somewhere up the hill. “Officers! Officers, wait.” Felicia, shopping bags flopping against her hip, ran across to them. Even though Payton’s door yawned open and she wasn’t standing more than two feet from it, the hum of traffic obliterated the rest of her words. Felicia seemed different today. Her face was animated. First she said something, then glanced from one officer to the other as though waiting for a reply. They remained calm and serious. Said nothing. Once, Sergeant Espinoza sneaked a glance at Payton’s shop. Almost immediately, his eyes flickered away. In that briefest of glances, she knew they were talking about her.
A third vehicle pulled up in front of Espinoza’s. A plain-clothed man hopped out, holding a sheet of white paper. Espinoza had obviously been expecting it because he nodded and set it atop the papers he carried. Why did the words search warrant come to mind? The newly arrived officer left without further conversation. Espinoza said something to Felicia, which Payton determined to be good-bye because they got into their cars and sped away, leaving Felicia standing there looking like a lost child.
Payton went out to water the ficus. A familiar “hello” made her look up. Her smile widened seeing MaryAnn, looking awake and alert, far different from a day ago. “How are you?”
“A little better every day.”
“I’m glad you’re recovering. Are y
ou still staying with Claire?”
“She’s been like a mother. Last night I went to the motel. I felt like I was imposing.”
“I’m sure Claire didn’t feel that way.”
“No. Another reason was to escape the authorities. Just for a few minutes. You know what I mean?”
Payton and MaryAnn went inside.
“Do they have any suspects yet?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” Payton said.
“Claire told me the spouse is always the first one they suspect. She said I should be strong and tell the truth.” MaryAnn touched the corner of her left eye where the bruise had turned a yellowish-green. “I guess I had a good motive to want him dead.” MaryAnn shrugged. “They were very nice. Never accusing or anything like that. I came because I thought you might want some time off. I know you’ve been putting in a lot of hours between the shop and helping Mamie open the gallery. How is it, by the way?”
“Mamie’s like a dove soaring above the clouds. She arrived this morning just about tweeting.”
“That’s good. Why don’t you go get something to eat? I’ll watch the shop and close up later.”
“I can’t let you do that. You’ve been through hell lately. Besides, if you’re trying to avoid the cops, here isn’t the place to do it.”
“I got some sleep. I’m ready to face them.” MaryAnn gave her a little nudge. “I’ll call if I start feeling sad.” MaryAnn nudged her again. “Go. Relax.”
Payton hugged her and retrieved her purse and backpack. She hadn’t done any paperwork, but the idea of a few hours of freedom was as appealing as a bowl of Ben & Jerry’s hidden under homemade whipped cream. That thought struck her as amusing and as she headed up Main Street, ducked into the Galley, took a table in the front window and ordered lunch. What she’d do when she got home, Payton wasn’t sure. Maybe work on her book. Mamie had considerately taped a sign to the office door: “Staff Only Beyond this Point.”
Payton dawdled, savoring every bite, licking the hand-whipped banana cream from the corner of her mouth with the tip of her tongue, instead of a napkin. She felt like a child and it showed in her steps as she started for home.
But what she saw in front of Aden’s house changed everything.
TWENTY-FIVE
Sergeant Espinoza’s car sat in Aden’s driveway, in the BMW’s usual spot. Two other vehicles parked along the edge of the road. There were actually a lot of cars parked along the road. Lately, most were customers in the gallery, but these stood out like mold on cheese. Both wore New York State government plates.
Uniformed and plain clothed men hovered in Aden’s front yard. One came out the front door carrying a plastic bag. Espinoza unlocked the rear door of his vehicle, waited while the man deposited the bag, then relocked the vehicle. Chain of evidence. The words slashed a path through Payton’s good mood.
Aden’s note said he had to leave on a business trip and she should call him if she needed anything. She took out her cell phone and dialed his number. It rang four times and Aden’s voice came on the line. “Hello…” “Oh, Aden, I’m so glad—” “This is Aden Green. I’m not available…” The message finished and the beep sounded. Payton spoke again. “Aden, it’s Payton. Call me. It’s important.”
Another officer came out carrying a bag about the size of a sandwich. There was something blue inside. Once again, Espinoza unlocked the car and the bag got swallowed. So far her approach had gone unnoticed. She took a breath to steady her nerves and went across the street. The sergeant didn’t look surprised to see her. He took several steps to close the distance between them.
She kept her voice steady. “Where’s Aden?”
“That’s what I was just about to ask you.”
“I don’t know.”
“When he left your house this morning he didn’t tell you where he was going?”
They’d been watching. Of course they would be; she was their prime suspect. The lunch did a flip-flop in her gut. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”
Espinoza’s eyebrows rose an inch, then returned to their fatherly position over his dark eyes. “What am I thinking?”
“Aden came over because he knew I was upset.”
“And what had you upset?”
“That should be obvious. I almost died the other day. Aden saw my lights and brought me something to eat.”
“What did he bring?”
“Seafood fettucini.” Why did she feel the need to defend Aden? He was a man, like all other men, out to get something from her and then leave. Wasn’t his desertion proof of it? He’d left her to deal with the police.
“Something wrong?” Espinoza asked. “You suddenly looked as though a dog crapped on your shoe.”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Prove it.”
“What’s the point? You’ve already formed your theory. Nothing I say can change that. What I don’t understand is why you think either Aden or I had anything to do with Sean’s death.”
“The jury’s still out on you, but Mr. Green had two motives, at least.” The sergeant took Payton’s arm and led her toward his vehicle. He opened the passenger door and helped her inside. He walked around and got in the drivers’ side, sliding his right knee onto the seat. “How well do you know him?”
“Not that well.”
“He didn’t come to your defense when Mr. Adams harassed you?”
“Oh for heaven sakes. I already told you, the thing between Sean and me was nothing.”
“His behavior didn’t anger Mr. Green, make him jealous?”
“Jealous? There was no reason for either of them to be jealous.” Payton opened the door and got out. “And I don’t appreciate you insinuating otherwise.”
She slammed the door and ran across the street. Mamie was waiting. “What’s happening?” She kept her voice low. The house was full of gallery-goers.
Payton ducked into the pantry, dropping her backpack on the ceramic floor. “They think Aden killed Sean to keep him away from me.”
Mamie’s eyebrows lifted into an upside down vee.
“Do you know of any sort of relationship between Sean and Aden? Anything at all?”
Mamie looked Payton in the eye and shook her head. “They talked once in a while, at the yacht club meetings, that sort of thing.”
Payton picked up her bag. “I’ll be in my office a while.”
“I’ll bring you coffee in a few minutes.”
“Thanks,” Payton said, although right at that moment she really would have liked something a lot stronger than coffee. She smiled at a woman examining the painting of an Italian landscape and went in her office. She pushed the curtain aside. Espinoza and the others were still there.
She dialed Aden’s cell again. After seven rings an automated voice said, “The number you’ve dialed is out of service at this time.”
Payton squinted back tears. There was a gentle tap on the door and Mamie brought in a small tray that she set on the desk. “Are they still there?”
“Yes.” Payton tucked the phone back in her purse.
“Were you able to reach him?”
“His phone’s out of service.” Payton dropped into her chair.
Mamie’s look of polite regard almost caused Payton to blurt out all her troubles. It would be so easy. Mamie seemed like a good listener, more concerned for others than herself. Payton opened her mouth, then closed it again. Mamie had enough of her own worries right now.
“You can tell me, you know,” Mamie said, as though reading her mind. “I’m stronger than I look. And I can keep a secret.”
Payton laughed. It came out more as a chirp and both women laughed. Mamie dragged a chair close. “Tell me what’s worrying you.”
Payton laced her fingers before her on the desk. “I can’t help thinking Aden left town because he knew they were onto him.”
“What!”
“This morning there was a note on my kitchen table saying he’d been called away.”
“He is a
n ambassador, you remember. He’s often called away. He misses a lot of yacht club meetings.”
“I know. Are you sure you don’t know of a relationship between Sean and Aden? Maybe something that goes back a few years?”
“As far as I know, the only thing they have in common is sailing.”
“What about Wanderlust or another group?”
Mamie gave the question serious thought. “Sean stopped coming to Wanderlust about seven years ago. It was just after Aden started coming. Oh my, Aden had some wonderful tales. Trips to the Far East, Europe, and a city with a silly name. Uz-something.”
“You said Sean stopped coming soon after Aden started. Was there a confrontation, any kind of conflict between them that might’ve made him stop coming?”
“I don’t think so. It seemed like coincidence.” Mamie slid the coffee in front of Payton. She waited till Payton had taken a sip.
“How do you know how I like it?” Payton asked.
“I watched you at Wanderlust,” Mamie said shyly, then gestured at the tray that also held a plate of cookies. “I thought you might be hungry, too.”
“Thank you. You’re a good friend.”
All at once, Mamie began crying. Payton rose and put her arm around the wide shoulders. It was more than a minute before Mamie could speak. Her previous statement, “I’m a lot stronger than I look,” seemed ludicrous. Mamie was just what Payton had always thought, a wonderful, considerate woman, but weak in both mind and spirit. It was exemplified in her oh-so-rarely being able to make eye contact with anyone.
Gradually Mamie got herself under control. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. This whole thing is such…”
“A mess.”
“Yes.” Mamie accepted a pat on the shoulder, gave Payton a weary smile and left.
“Mamie, wait. Why doesn’t Aden come to Wanderlust any more?”
“He said it wasn’t his cup of tea.”
Payton nodded. “I wouldn’t have thought so either.”
“If anyone knows of a connection between Sean and Aden, it’ll be Helen.”