Maggie smiled back and wondered if the slip in table manners was done on purpose to make her feel at ease. If so, it worked. Her visions of scattered tableware vanished. She glanced down, surprised to see her plate clean. “I can’t believe I ate everything,” she said. “I must have been hungry.”
Edward laughed. “The portions here are tiny. Why don’t fancy restaurants feed you enough? Do you want dessert?”
She declined.
He ordered cheesecake. After the waiter left, he continued, “What about Esther’s house? I assume it’s paid for.”
Maggie nodded. “Uncle Ron left it to her free and clear, and she left it to me. It’s in such great shape it shouldn’t be hard to find a buyer.” She sighed. “I haven’t gotten that far yet.”
He tapped his mouth with his napkin. “Understandable. But isn’t it bigger than yours? Wouldn’t you want to keep it and sell your place?”
The waiter showed up with his dessert and coffee, saving her from having to answer.
Using the distraction, she rose and slipped her design boards out of the portfolio. He could inspect her designs while he finished his dessert. Dragging out the chair between them, she propped the first one on it, allowing him plenty of time to see every detail.
Keeping one hand at her side, she forced herself to refrain from chewing her nails while she waited. Would he like it? When enough time had passed, she positioned another board in front. “The smaller homes are brighter and make more use of the space, while the larger ones have muted, elegant palettes. I’ve used the materials from the design center, so I put prices in for all the upgrades.”
He studied each board.
Had she over decorated? Her palms felt slimy. She surreptitiously wiped each hand on her skirt, supporting the boards with the other.
At last, he broke the silence. “They look terrific.”
She puffed out the breath she’d been holding.
“We’re ready for you to start the first house right away.” He reached into his briefcase and handed her a stapled set of papers. “Here’s our construction schedule and a standard contract for your services. If it’s acceptable, please sign and return it as soon as possible.”
He waited for her to slide her designs back in her portfolio, and held out his hand. “I want to thank you for stepping in like this after our other designer bailed. I love what you’ve done in such a short time. We’ll get along fine.”
She thanked him and left the restaurant, practically skipping to her car. As she picked up her cell phone, it hit her again. The person she most wanted to call was Aunt Esther. She tossed the phone in her purse, wiped the fresh tears off her cheeks, and proceeded home.
Aching for the sound of her aunt’s voice, she ran upstairs. If she couldn’t be with her, at least she could read her thoughts, and imagine the sound of her aunt’s voice as if she were in the room with her. Allie’s door was closed, and hearing nothing inside, Maggie moved into her own bedroom and shut the door. The diary she’d been reading waited on the table beside her bed. She changed into shorts and lay down to read once again.
I’m amazed by how much the children want to learn. We teach them in their language first (I’m useless there), and then I teach them English. We’ve gotten better at communicating with gestures and giggles. The children, though they have so little to laugh about, love to laugh.
One of the tiny girls, whose name I cannot for the life of me pronounce (I call her Kiki), has learned to sing “Jesus Loves Me” in English and wants to sing it every day. She’s precious to God, I know. I don’t know her family situation, but she comes in the morning with her younger brother and sister. She’s a regular little mother, caring for them at the age of ten. I wonder if she has a mother at home.
The clock chimed and startled Maggie awake. She needed to leave for Greg’s, and she wasn’t ready. Yelling to Allie, she hurried into the bathroom. No time for primping, a quick brush of the teeth and a comb through the hair would have to do. She glanced at the sink and noticed her ring. She’d forgotten again. How long would it take to get used to wearing it? Slipping it on her finger, she rushed downstairs. Wonder of wonders, Allie was ready and waiting in white shorts and a blue-flowered, cotton blouse. Maggie snatched her keys from the dish and pulled the back door closed behind them.
Although the day remained in the high seventies, a cool breeze wafted the daisies next to the brick path. Her roses were in full bloom, their flowers bright pink against the wooden fence. She breathed in their fragrance and bent to pull a lone weed before preceding Allie into the garage.
Allie buckled into Maggie’s old red sedan. “You need a new car, Mags. How many miles does this have on it anyway?”
Maggie backed out of the driveway and headed for the street. Hearing the old nickname made her smile. “Only a hundred thousand. It’s still good.”
“Good?” Allie snorted. “You’ll be lucky if it doesn’t break down on the highway. Besides, the paint job’s seen better days.”
“I know, but I like my car.” She turned in the direction of Greg’s. “Let’s talk about you. Who’s this boyfriend? I’m dying to know. What’s his name?”
Allie shrugged. “Just a guy. I don’t want to talk about him.”
It didn’t take long to reach Greg’s place, and they were silent as the elevator rose to the twelfth floor and deposited them in front of the penthouse.
“Wow, how much does a cop make in this town?”
Maggie rang the bell. “He has family money. His uncle left him land in Montana, and he sold it for a fortune.”
“Whew, no wonder you like him.”
The clop of Greg’s cowboy boots on the other side of the door forestalled her comment, which was good, since what came to mind wasn’t very Christian. The door swung open to reveal Greg in a barbecue apron, sporting a giant, grinning pig on the front. He greeted Allie and bent to kiss Maggie.
“The perfect man—sexy, yet domesticated. What are we having?” She playfully dodged the meat fork in his hand.
He grinned. “You know man’s preoccupation with fire. Of course, I’m grilling steaks.”
He led them through his leather-filled living room to a huge balcony on the roof of one of the lower units.
Pushing Snowball, the beautiful white Persian, better known as Stinky, off the chair, she made room for Allie near the railing.
The sun shimmered off rooftops, and Star Lake glistened in the distance, hemmed in by mountains. Even though they were at nine thousand feet, even higher peaks rose against the horizon.
“Hey, this is cool. Can we see your place from here?” Allie asked.
Maggie pointed it out as the doorbell rang. Mark, Robin, Libby, and Peter arrived together. She invited them out to the balcony.
Mark strode to the railing. “I never get tired of this view.” He smiled at Allie. “Don’t you love it up here? It’s so relaxing.”
Allie nodded and glanced away. She must still remember his questioning at the station.
“It’s why I chose this apartment,” Greg said. “The twelfth floor is high enough to see the lake without all the houses in the way.”
“This huge roof patio didn’t hurt.” Peter spooned a large portion of potato salad onto his plate. “Did you buy the building specifically for this apartment?”
Greg stabbed a piece of meat and held it up. “It was a major selling point, but not all. Now who wants a small one?”
Robin lifted her plate to receive a steak that was anything but small. “Maggie, how will you want to decorate?”
Maggie looked at Greg. “Why, are you redecorating?”
Robin laughed. “I mean I like it and all, but it’s a little masculine, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, but Greg’s a masculine kind of guy, so it works. It reflects his personality.”
“But it doesn’t reflect yours,” Greg interjected. “When we get married, you’ll want to change everything before you move in, and I’m fine with it.” A devilish look glinted
in his eye. “In fact, I’m planning a long honeymoon, so maybe you can have the workers come in while we’re gone.”
“Is that how it works?” Libby set her plate in Greg’s waiting hand. “She plans the wedding, and you plan the honeymoon?”
“It worked for us, didn’t it?” Peter said.
Heat rose from Maggie’s neck to her scalp. “When I move…what do you mean when I move in? Who says we’ll be living here?”
“Your place is smaller, so I assumed you’d want to move in here. Mark, you’d better claim this one before it goes from medium-rare to torched.”
“Everyone is trying to move me out of my house.” The words escaped before she could stop them. “First, Edward says I should move into my aunt’s, and now, you all,” she swept her hand around the group, “assume I’ll move in here. I like my house, thank you very much, and what about Honey? Doesn’t she count?” She sucked in a breath.
“What? Of course, she counts.” Greg stopped, the grill fork waving in the air.
“I don’t see how if you think I’m going to move her from a yard to a high rise.” Her voice elevated to a mosquito whine, and her friends shifted in their seats. She should stop, but the words tumbled out. “And isn’t my house good enough for you?”
“I didn’t say it wasn’t good enough. I like your house. We can discuss this later. I didn’t know it would be such a sore spot.”
He was right. They had guests for heaven’s sake. Everything inside her wanted to escape. Now. Somehow, she had to get through the rest of the evening without making an even bigger fool of herself.
“I’ll get the lemonade,” she mumbled, slipping into the coolness of the kitchen. She gazed at the high-end, black-and-white surfaces. Even though she felt comfortable enough, she couldn’t see herself living here. She plucked several glasses from an upper cabinet and began pouring lemonade.
The muted voices became louder as Robin drew open the sliding door. “Everything OK?” She stepped in.
“Yes. No. I don’t know. I’ll have to get back with you.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to start something.”
Maggie reached for a tray and loaded the glasses. “It’s good to get it out in the open. He would have said something eventually.”
Robin patted her arm and picked up the heavy tray. “You’ll figure it out,” she said as she balanced it on her hip and slid sideways out onto the deck.
Maggie wasn’t so sure. They’d never discussed where they would live. In fact, they hadn’t discussed a lot of things. Did he want children right away? He loved kids; she knew that. But no way was she ready to be a mother. Maybe this was happening too fast. They’d only known each other a year, and she’d been living by herself a long time. Maybe she was too set in her ways to get married. She lifted the pitcher, plastered a smile on her face, and stalked outside.
The rest of the evening, laughing and talking with everyone, was less than the party she pretended. Greg tried to catch her eye, but she avoided him. The last thing she wanted was another scene, so she and Allie slipped out without saying good-bye.
“Why are you so mad?” Allie asked when they got in the car. “I’d love to move in there.”
Maggie gripped the wheel and glanced in the rearview mirror. Lights from the car behind reflected off her ring, causing bursts of light to travel around the car. “It’s complicated.”
Her cell phone rang as she walked in the door, the display showing Greg’s handsome face.
Allie gave her a quick wave and ran up the stairs, leaving Maggie alone. Her finger hovered over the reject button. Then she pushed accept. She should explain. She owed him that.
“I hoped you’d be home,” he said. “I didn’t want to call while you were driving. You left so fast, I didn’t get a chance to talk to you.”
She wound her fingers into the hem of her shirt, the ring digging into her palm. “I didn’t know what to say.”
“I do. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed you’d move in here. I realize now it seems arrogant of me to start running your life. I don’t want to, you know.”
“I know. I overreacted.” Why didn’t the admission ease the knot in her stomach? “We just haven’t discussed it yet.”
“I don’t care where we live. We can live at your place if you like, and I can rent this apartment out. You’re right—Honey is more comfortable with a yard.”
He waited for reassurance, but she didn’t have any. “Listen, I’m pretty tired. Let’s talk tomorrow, OK?”
He agreed, although she sensed his reluctance. Uncertainty plagued her as she hung up. He was a great guy, but the idea of constantly being with someone left her claustrophobic. If they were married, he’d be with her right now. Her house enveloped her with warmth and sanctuary. What should she do?
7
Maggie finished her breakfast and drained her orange juice as she wrote a quick note for Allie. Then she headed for Aunt Esther’s. Her key slipped into the lock the way it had thousands of times before. Inside, she hesitated with the door open, muscles tense. The ticking of the living room clock echoed in the silence. How had she never noticed it was out of sync with the ticking in the dining room?
The impulse to call for Aunt Esther was so strong, she almost couldn’t resist. Fighting her emotions, she drew the list out of her bag and cleared a large space in the living room. Consulting the sheet, she leaned a painting willed to her dad against the wall, and a small table in Allie’s spot. Robin and baby Tony would be here soon. Then the place wouldn’t seem so hollow.
The bell rang, and she jumped. Beyond the screen, Robin and ten-month-old Tony waited on the porch. His chubby arms reached out for her when Maggie opened the door. She scooped him from his mother, cooing and nuzzling his roly-poly neck. He giggled and squirmed, showing all four front teeth. “He looks so cute in those shorts!” Maggie said. “I wish they made clothes this cute for adults.”
He kicked in her arms, and she put him down. He crawled to the ottoman and heaved himself up.
Robin set a couple plastic blocks in front of him.
Tony squealed and knocked them to the floor, falling on his padded behind in the process.
Maggie smiled. His laughter dispelled the creepy silence.
Robin glanced around. “Is Allie here?”
“She’s at home in bed. It’s amazing how long she can sleep. I don’t remember sleeping in so late at her age, do you?”
“We probably did. We just don’t remember. I know your dad left when you were nine, and you went to live with Esther when you were fifteen, where does Allie come in?”
“I was ten when Mom and George got married. Allie came along after that, but they got divorced after a couple years. Mom had joint custody, but she lost interest after a while. I used to beg her to let Allie stay the summers with us, but she said George wouldn’t allow it. I always thought she was making an excuse, but maybe it was true. Maybe Mom’s boyfriends made him nervous.”
Robin placed more blocks on the ottoman, and Tony knocked them off. “Is that the last time you saw her?”
Maggie kept her gaze on Tony. “She visited me at Aunt Esther’s. I saw her a week out of every summer until I went to college. We lost contact then, although she and Aunt Esther stayed close. Has Mark told you why the police suspect she was involved?”
Robin blinked at the quick change of subject. “Didn’t Greg tell you?”
Tony threw his rattle across the floor, and Maggie bent to get it, hiding her face. “I haven’t called him yet.”
“OK, what gives? You’re not still mad about last night? You know he didn’t mean—”
“I know. But right now I want to hear about Allie, and I don’t want to ask Greg.” She put her hand up when Robin would have protested. “Please, just tell me what you know. We’ll get into my love life later.”
Robin held up both hands, palms out. “OK, OK. Mark said there were fingerprints in the kitchen from her boyfriend, Cameron Hayes. He’s been arrested for some
small time stuff, so his fingerprints were on file. Mark said that Cameron has a brother, Grady, that they’d like to bring in for questioning. Bad news. I hope she’s not really involved with them. If Esther wouldn’t answer the door, Allie might have lowered the ladder. Maggie, Allie’s prints are on the knife block.”
“Were they on the knife, too?”
“No, the knife was wiped clean.”
“It doesn’t make any sense, why wouldn’t she just let him in? Why the ladder?”
Robin shrugged.
“And why would she have wiped the knife but not the block? Besides, she could have left those prints any time.”
“Not with Maria in charge of the cleaning.”
Maggie nodded and pinched her lip between two fingers. Maria was very thorough.
“And she was living in Esther’s car. At least, for the couple days it took to catch her. They’re assuming she stole it.”
Maggie shook her head. “Theft won’t stick. You know Aunt Esther would have loaned it to her.”
“What does Allie have to say?”
“She clams up. She won’t discuss the boyfriend at all.” Maggie played with Tony while Robin unloaded the portable crib from the car and dumped it in Esther’s room. When she returned, she picked Tony up and carried him to the kitchen.
Maggie followed. “Allie must have used the knife block at some point while she was here. It doesn’t mean she killed her. If they believe she’s guilty, why haven’t they made an arrest?”
Robin set Tony in a chair and opened a jar of baby food. “I don’t think she’s a murder suspect, but they assume she’s protecting Cameron.”
Maggie scooted her chair next to Tony, nervous he might fall. “I have to find out more about this guy. The other night was the first I’d heard of him, so either Aunt Esther didn’t know anything, or she didn’t approve. Do the police know where he is?”
Deadly Diaries Page 6