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The Coloring Crook

Page 12

by Krista Davis


  “My dear, I have had the same thought. Where was Maisie the day her mother died?”

  Could she have been the person I saw running away? “She claims she was in South Carolina. Dolly would have been overjoyed to see her and wouldn’t have thought twice about letting her in or sitting down to drink a beverage with her.”

  “Mmm,” Zsazsa murmured. “I wouldn’t dream of consuming anything that Maisie offered me.” She gasped. “What a horrid woman I am to say such things! Besides, I have a second suspect in mind as well.” Zsazsa nodded, looking to her right and over my shoulder.

  I turned to see Edgar Delaney slowly walking toward the house.

  “He claims to be a graduate student of German and European Studies, but on Saturday, when I addressed him in German to ask how his studies were going, he clearly did not understand a word.”

  “Is it obligatory to speak German in that field?”

  “I imagine so, especially for someone doing graduate work. German is a very difficult language, but I would have expected him to understand my simple question.”

  “We should find out where he went after he left the bookstore. But maybe that doesn’t matter. If he was at home, he could have gone up to Dolly’s apartment and been back at his own place in minutes.”

  Zsazsa checked her watch. “I believe I’ll pay a little visit to my friends at the university. Perhaps I’ll learn something more about our Edgar Delaney.”

  Zsazsa bustled off in the direction of the university. I was about to go home when I realized I must have left my purse in the garden. I returned to collect it and found it on the table, exactly where I had placed it.

  As I walked along the side of the house and approached the street, I saw Edgar do a quick about-face in front of Dolly’s house. He hurried along the sidewalk, going back in the direction he had come. I was almost at the gate when I realized someone was watching Edgar.

  Chapter 16

  Jack Miller had made a U-turn.

  I ducked back into the passageway a little bit, hoping some of the gorgeous climbing roses on the house would help hide me. But I peered around them enough to be certain that Jack was tailing Edgar. He strode by the police vans looking straight ahead as though he was completely unconcerned by their presence. He was totally focused on Edgar.

  For a long moment, I argued with myself about following them. Part of me longed to go back to the carriage house and curl up in the safety of my home. But another part of me wanted to know the connection between them and why Jack would be following Edgar. Had Edgar seen him? Did he know the man? Was that the reason he had turned and walked in the other direction?

  In the end, I decided that I was being silly. It was broad daylight. I was on a public street, and they weren’t paying any attention to me.

  I strolled casually along the other side of the street, keeping both of them in view. Curiosity killed the cat, I reminded myself. Nonsense. I was being ridiculous! There was something peculiar about Edgar and Jack. Nothing would happen to me if I followed them. If they turned into an alley or something, all I had to do was go in a different direction.

  Edgar stopped in front of a narrow two-story shop. On the sidewalk in front of it, three oversized clocks leaned against a white wicker settee and matching table. The name written in graceful script on the show window read Time and Again.

  I reminded myself that I didn’t need any more clocks. How had I managed to miss this little place?

  Edgar went inside.

  Jack ambled toward the store and gazed through the show window before he backpedaled a little and leaned casually against a wall. If Edgar left the store, Jack would certainly see him.

  There weren’t many places to hide on my side of the street. I darted behind the trunk of a large tree and hoped that Jack was so focused on Edgar that he wouldn’t notice me.

  When someone tapped me on the shoulder, I screamed and whirled around.

  Eric grinned at me and whispered, “Screaming will give you away every time. Who are we spying on?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I work in this neighborhood, remember?”

  “Well, thanks for giving me away.”

  “You’re really tailing someone?”

  “I just happen to be walking in the same direction,” I replied defensively.

  “And trying to hide behind a tree.”

  He was so annoying! And I was thoroughly humiliated. “Edgar, who was Dolly’s tenant, is being followed by a guy. I thought I’d amble along on the opposite side of the street to see what they were up to.”

  “Who is the good-looking fellow watching us?”

  I glanced in the direction of the store. Jack Miller was staring at Eric and me. “This is so embarrassing.”

  “A friend of yours?”

  “That would be an exaggeration.”

  “A customer?”

  I didn’t want to lie to Eric. Did it matter at all that he showed up at the store on the run from someone who clobbered him over the head? “Something like that.”

  Eric tilted his head and squinted at me. “Maybe I should have a word with him.” Eric started to walk away.

  I grabbed his hand. “No! He’ll think I reported him.”

  “For what?”

  I had dug myself into a hole. “He came by the store and was bleeding, so I helped him. No big deal.”

  “If it was no big deal, then why are you tailing him?”

  “He’s following Edgar. It’s remotely possible that Edgar killed Dolly. He hasn’t been in town very long. I’m not sure anyone knows much about him.”

  Eric’s eyebrows jumped. “But you didn’t think it was worth mentioning to me?”

  “I would have, sooner or later. I happened to see Edgar, and then Jack seemed to be watching him, so I thought I would amble in the same general direction.” I tugged on his sleeve. “There goes Edgar.”

  We watched as Jack deftly stepped into the doorway of another store. Edgar didn’t appear to notice Jack at all.

  Jack didn’t give us so much as another glance. He focused on Edgar and fell in step a distance behind him.

  Keeping his eyes on Jack, Eric touched my elbow. “Let’s go. Why would Jack be following Edgar?”

  “That’s what I want to know.”

  “Did Jack know Dolly?”

  “He said something about wanting to buy a painting from her. But now that he has seen us I think it’s useless.”

  Eric shot a look at me and grinned. “They’re almost finished with the skeleton.”

  “I’m sure all the tenants will be glad about that. Maisie, too.”

  “Do you know what happened between Maisie and Dolly?” he asked. “I can’t imagine being so uncaring about my mom.”

  “Me, either. She said something about Dolly interfering with her relationship with the only man she ever loved. And Priss said Maisie was engaged once. So maybe Dolly did something that caused the wedding to be called off?”

  “I can see how that would make for hard feelings. But it seems like you would get over it eventually.”

  I agreed with his logic. But a terrible thought hit me hard. None of the rest of us had known Dolly as well as Maisie had. What if Dolly had a dark side that Maisie had seen but Dolly kept well hidden from the world?

  “Should I find out for you?” I asked.

  “Think you can?”

  I pretended to be appalled. “You doubt my abilities in the much-maligned field of gossip?”

  Eric winced. “Yeah. Pretty much. The Florrie Fox I know is a straight shooter. You’re not very good at being sneaky.”

  “I consider that a challenge,” I teased.

  “Don’t get into any trouble.”

  “I’ll call you if I do.”

  Glad I had the day off, I stopped by the market for mozzarella and tomato sauce. At home, I started pizza dough. While it was resting, I sliced onions and sautéed them over a low, slow heat before adding minced garlic and bits of red pepper. I rolled ou
t the dough, spread the sauce and the onions, then sprinkled shredded mozzarella on top, and popped it into the oven. When it was ready, I wrapped it in heavy-duty aluminum foil, grabbed a bottle of red wine from the fridge, and hustled over to Dolly’s house.

  There was always the possibility that Olivia and Priss would take it and shoo me away. If they did, I would have to figure out another method of getting them to talk.

  The police vans were gone. The people strolling along the sidewalks had no idea about the dramas that had transpired there over the last few days. Maybe Eric was right. Every day we walked by places where terrible things had happened. Especially in a town that had been around for a long time.

  I walked up to the second floor and knocked on the door.

  Olivia answered, surprised to see me. “I was afraid it would be another cop. The two of us fled the house today. It was craziness here.”

  “I thought you might be worn out. I brought you a homemade pizza.”

  Olivia blinked at me and reached for the pizza. “This is so thoughtful of you. Won’t you come in? Priss! Florrie brought dinner.”

  “And wine!” I held up the bottle I had brought with me.

  Priss flitted in. “Did I hear someone say wine? I hope it’s not that nonalcoholic stuff. This has been the worst week of my life. If I ever needed a girls’ night with wine, this is it.”

  I settled on the sofa and looked around while they retrieved wineglasses and plates. The massive wood surround on the fireplace was probably original to the building as were the parquet floors. Nolan was right about the magnificent moldings. They were the color of mahogany and had never been painted. They probably didn’t suit most people’s taste today, but it would be a shame to rip out all that hand-carved wood.

  The Beauton sisters didn’t have as much clutter as Dolly. But their walls were packed with art. One of them had an eye for balancing the diverse shapes and sizes.

  I stood up for a closer look. There didn’t seem to be a central theme or color. The largest painting was wildly abstract, either of giant multicolored fishes or spaceships. I wasn’t sure which. Two ornately framed oil paintings showed girls posing with dogs on a beach. I gasped in surprise when I realized they were of Olivia and Priss.

  I peered at a set of small mismatched frames. They held photographs of people dressed in formal attire from the 1800s.

  “Our great-grandparents,” said Olivia as she returned. “I love those pictures.”

  “The paintings of you and Priss are wonderful!”

  “Thanks. At the time we complained bitterly. But now we’re glad we have them. They bring back memories of carefree summers at the beach.”

  “Please don’t get started on the beach, Olivia,” whined Priss. “She loves the wind in her hair and sand between her toes. But I’m allergic to the sun.”

  Olivia shook her head. “You are not.”

  “I am if I say I am. I loathe the beach. Sand gets in everything and my hair frizzes like I stuck my finger in an electrical outlet.” She touched her smooth curls. “Wait! I think it’s starting to frizz at the mere thought of the beach.”

  I grinned. Veronica and I sometimes had that kind of conversation. “How’s Nolan?”

  “He’s home with his leg elevated. I’m going over later to check on him.”

  Olivia poured the wine, grabbed a piece of pizza, and sat back on the sofa. “Thank you so much for bringing this. Losing Dolly was like losing a sister. We’ve been through so much together over the years.”

  “It’s wonderful that you became friends. I have never understood how people can be neighbors for decades and not get to know each other at all.”

  Priss giggled. “There were a few tenants we didn’t want to get to know better. There was the woman who didn’t shower. I’ll never understand that.”

  Olivia snorted. “She was an oddball, for sure. Dolly said not to complain because it kept the water bill low.”

  I tried to steer my questions to Maisie. “How old was Maisie when you moved in?”

  “Three? She was very little. Such a cutie.” Priss poured herself a second glass of wine.

  “What happened between Maisie and Dolly?” I asked as casually as I could.

  Olivia waved her hand as though she wasn’t interested in going there. “Dolly was right about Maisie being resentful. You know how children are. They want to be exactly like their friends.”

  “Maisie felt like the odd one out,” said Priss. “Frankly, I think most children do. She was always a very pretty girl, but she made up her mind that she was different and that notion ballooned as she got older. And then she fell in love.”

  “She was positively giddy. She was in college then, as I recall,” added Olivia.

  Priss swirled the wine in her glass. “Dolly was furious. She had pinched and saved and worked all kinds of night jobs to put Maisie through college. Dolly’s biggest regret was that she never went to college. She was determined that wouldn’t happen to Maisie. And then Maisie came home and announced she was dropping out of school and getting married.”

  “If Maisie had wanted to upset Dolly, she could not have picked a better way to achieve it. Dolly said over and over again that she wasn’t going to let Maisie ruin her life over the wrong man.” Olivia took a bite of pizza.

  “Like Dolly had,” I said. “She wanted to protect Maisie from making the same mistakes. Sounds like a mess. So did Maisie break off the engagement under pressure from Dolly?”

  Priss laughed. “If it had only been that simple. Dolly went to the boy’s mother. Of course, she was offended that her precious son wasn’t good enough for Dolly’s daughter. There was a big brouhaha.”

  “His mother put her foot down. He was not going to marry Maisie.” Olivia cut another piece of pizza. “Of course, it’s not hard to see what would happen next. They planned to elope.”

  Chapter 17

  “But Dolly was way ahead of them.” Priss finally set her wineglass down. She picked little bits of cheese off her piece of pizza and nibbled on them. “Dolly called his former girlfriend and invited her to have dinner with him. Imagine this scenario, two angry mothers, and two girls vying for the same guy.”

  “He must have been very special.”

  “Just an average Joe,” muttered Olivia.

  “That’s not true.” Priss leaned toward me. “Percy is very good-looking. I still see him around town sometimes. If I had been younger . . .”

  “Thank heaven you weren’t,” said her sister. “He was being torn in every direction. The last thing we would have needed was you chasing him.”

  “Percy? Percy McAllister?”

  “That’s the one,” said Priss.

  How odd. When her friend mentioned Percy, Maisie had acted as though she didn’t remember him. “What finally happened?” I asked.

  “He picked the other girl over Maisie!” Priss shrieked. She immediately clapped a hand over her mouth. “I hope she didn’t hear me.”

  Ohhh. That explained Maisie’s behavior. Maybe she was embarrassed to have been engaged to such a jerk. I might have acted that way, too, if I were in her shoes.

  “Dolly was relieved, but Maisie was devastated.”

  “She blamed Dolly,” said Priss.

  “Maisie was so angry that she did the two things she knew would kill Dolly. She dropped out of school, and she moved away. For six months, Dolly didn’t even know where Maisie was,” said Olivia.

  “She hired a private investigator to find her.” Priss refilled her wine.

  “For years, Dolly kept an eye on Maisie through the private investigator,” said Olivia. “And then one day, she paid Maisie an unexpected visit. We weren’t there, of course, but according to Dolly it all went very well at the beginning. Then Maisie told her she was planning to take night courses to finish her degree. Dolly was so thrilled that she offered to pay for the classes.”

  “That was all it took to set Maisie off. I thought it sounded very generous of Dolly, but Maisie saw it as Doll
y being controlling,” explained Priss.

  “Did she ever finish school?” I asked.

  Olivia burst into laughter. “We’re too afraid to ask her!”

  “So it was really all over a boy,” I mused aloud.

  Olivia frowned. “That was the breaking point. But it had been building for a long time. Dolly wanted a better life for Maisie, but Maisie felt stifled, as though Dolly wouldn’t allow her to make her own decisions.”

  “And now she’s gone, and it’s too late to put their problems behind them.” I thought about my own mom. “That’s very sad.”

  “I think Maisie realizes that now.” Priss burst into tears. “I just can’t believe Dolly is gone.”

  “I can’t, either,” said Olivia softly.

  The silence that followed was awkward and my cue to go home. I rose from my seat, and to cheer them up, I asked about a photo of a cottage on the wall. “Is that where you grew up?”

  “Don’t we wish!” Olivia drew near it. “That was our grandparents’ beach house.”

  Next to it was a very small painting of a sunflower. Even with the simple black frame it wasn’t any bigger than five inches by five inches. “Did one of you draw this?”

  Olivia stopped smiling. “We’ve had it for years. I don’t even remember where we got it.”

  I nodded and thanked them for an enjoyable evening. But I felt that I left on a sour note. What was with that sunflower?

  As soon as I got home, I settled on the sofa and drew the sunflower from memory. It wasn’t perfect, but it was close enough.

  I doodled as I thought about Maisie and Percy. Who’d have thought he would be at the root of Dolly’s problems with Maisie? I was sketching his head, but it wasn’t coming out quite right. He had a narrower jawline and a prominent chin. Now it looked more like him. On the surface he was sort of pretty, but he was a hollow shell. Maisie had given up a relationship with her mother over a man who hadn’t cared enough to stick with her.

 

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