Chocolate Dipped Death (21 page)

I figured she probably wanted me to wait until she cleared my check, and I was happy to do it. I’d rather not make another mad dash up the steps if I didn’t have to. I followed her down a long corridor lined with offices, some of which were empty, while others buzzed with activity as the staff tried to put this issue of the
Post
to bed.

“You’re lucky we had space enough for a few want ads this week,” Brenda said as she ushered me into a cramped office at the end of the hall. “Sloan cut out everything he deemed unnecessary to make room for the Savannah Horne murder. What a tragedy.”

I agreed that it was and made myself relatively comfortable in a hard wooden chair in front of her desk.

Brenda patted the mounds of paper covering her desk, apparently looking for something. After a minute, her face brightened, and she pulled the local phone book from beneath a stack of colored file folders. “That poor, poor man,” she said as she flipped through the Yellow Pages. “My heart just aches for him.”

I assumed she was talking about Miles, so I agreed again. “It would be hard enough to lose your spouse, but to have it happen in a strange place would make it all that much harder. Have you heard whether his family will be coming?”

Brenda found the number she wanted and dialed. “What family?”

“I thought he had family,” I said, trying to remember why I thought that.

“Not according to what he told Sloan this afternoon.” Apparently on hold, she cradled the phone between neck and chin and leaned onto her desk eagerly. “He told Sloan that he’s alone in the world now. Did he tell you something different?”

I thought back, trying to separate actual conversations from impressions and assumptions, and finally shook my head. “I’m not sure why I thought that. I’ve heard so many things over the past few days, I probably misunderstood.”

The expectant smile faded from Brenda’s face, and she punched a couple of numbers on her phone. “You and me both. I swear, if I didn’t write everything down—” She broke off, spent a few minutes speaking with someone at the bank to verify that I actually had money, and finally disconnected with a smile. “Looks like you’re in business. The ad will be in tomorrow’s paper. You should start getting calls soon.”

Terrific. Positive steps. That had to be better than waiting around for Karen to come to her senses and realize what a mistake she’d made. If I waited for
that
to happen, I might never leave the shop again.

The sun had disappeared behind the mountains
when I stepped outside again, so I decided to take the long way back to Divinity. Dana would be all right for a few more minutes, and my legs were still shaky from the climb. I didn’t trust myself to go down three flights of steep, narrow stairs in the dark.

Maybe I should have gone straight back to the shop, but when I reached the corner of Prospector and Forest and spotted Paisley’s yellow bug sitting in front of the Curl Up and Dye, I decided to take a brief detour.

I was still bothered by that offhand comment about Miles having no family. Still trying to remember why I thought he had. If anybody knew the answer, Delta would. Yes, I still thought she might be the one who ran Savannah down, but I didn’t intend to let her know that I suspected her. And maybe I would have to dance around Paisley’s efforts to give me a makeover, but it was just one quick question. I would be in and out. Surely, I could hold Paisley off for that long.

Paisley was in the middle of giving a haircut when I came through the door, but she beamed with delight when she saw me, abandoned her customer, and bounced up to the counter. She’s a short woman with freckles that she tries to hide under a thick layer of foundation and powder.

It doesn’t work.

Unlike her clientele, Paisley’s hair changes style and color at least once a week. I think she considers herself a walking billboard for the salon. I think she might be more effective if she wasn’t perennially popping a wad of gum.

This week’s hair was pale blonde and layered, shades of Farrah Fawcett in her
Charlie’s Angels
days. In honor of her look, Paisley wore a pair of pink leggings, an oversized shirt belted at the waist, ’80s style, and a pink tunic—paisley patterned, of course.

She held out both arms as she came toward me, as if we were the dearest of friends. “Abby! It is
so
great to see you here.”
Chomp! Pop! Chomp!
Sit down and make yourself comfortable. I’m almost finished with Natalie, and I don’t have another appointment between now and closing.”

I backed up a step, but I also tried to look regretful. It seemed like the polite thing to do. “Thanks, Paisley, but I’m not here for a cut. I’m looking for Delta. Is she working tonight?”

Paisley’s face fell. “No.”
Pop! Snap!
“She asked for a couple of days off. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you why.”

I wasn’t surprised. Disappointed maybe. I didn’t want to drive out to Delta’s house just to get the answer to one little question. “Do you know if she’s at home?”

“Well, now, I’m not sure.” Paisley tapped the comb she held against her hand and popped and chomped some more. “She asked for the time off, but I didn’t ask what she was planning to do with it. I can call and ask if you want me to. No sense driving all the way over there for nothing.”

“Thanks,” I said, “but I’m not even sure if I’ll attempt it tonight. I have a million things to do.” And I didn’t want to warn Delta that I was coming. I think you get a more honest answer when you catch someone off guard.

Since I wasn’t about to become a paying customer, Paisley popped a bit more while she ran a glance from head to toe—one of those assessing looks that inevitably makes you squirm, I don’t care who you are. “You’re not going to upset her are you?”

“I don’t plan on it.”

“Because she’s upset enough.”

“I’m sure she is. I promise I’ll be careful.”

Apparently that wasn’t good enough. Paisley narrowed her eyes and locked on me with a frown. “What do you want to talk to her about?”

“Nothing bad, I promise.” I turned toward the door, ready to put an end to the conversation.

“Because the thing is,” Paisley went on, undaunted, “I heard that you were getting kind of friendly with Savannah’s husband.”

That stopped me in my tracks. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t mean
that
way,” she assured me quickly. “But everybody’s talking about how he was at your shop the day Savannah died. And now, with what that attorney told Delta, I’m not sure either of you are on her list of favorite people.”

I took a couple of steps away from the door. “What attorney, and what did he tell her?”

Paisley flapped a dismissive hand. “Whatever attorney she’s been using to settle her mother’s estate.”
Chomp!
“Apparently, he told her this morning that Miles is going to inherit Savannah’s half, after all. Can you believe that?”
Pop! Pop!
“Poor Delta. Things just keep going from bad to worse for her.”

“She didn’t expect Miles to inherit?”

“Well, no! I mean, why would she?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because Savannah and Miles were married?”

Paisley tsked and slipped the comb into the pocket of her smock. “Savannah told her that she and Miles had separated their assets. She
promised
Delta that Miles wouldn’t get his hands on anything that was their mother’s.”

“Are you sure about that?” I wondered why Savannah would have done that. Maybe more importantly, why Delta wanted it done.

“I’m absolutely sure. Delta
hates
Miles. Always has. That’s why she and Savannah didn’t speak to each other for so long.”

That surprised me. “They didn’t speak because of Savannah’s marriage to Miles? I thought it was because Savannah left Delta here to take care of their mother.”

Paisley popped twice and waved away my silly notion. “No. Delta wasn’t upset about that. Not really. She knew what Savannah was like, and she knew Savannah would have been miserable here. What really frosted her was the way Miles acted.”

“What way was that?”

“Oh, you know . . . like he was so much better than everybody else. This job in New York was really a corker, you know? Before this, he was just the world’s most annoying man, always talking about Harvard and making sure Delta and Charlie knew how smart he was. But this really put him over the top. He’s been shoving everything he does under Delta’s nose since the day he met Savannah. Like he just
has
to remind her that Savannah married him while Delta was stuck here in Paradise with old Charlie.”

“Old Charlie” had been unemployed so many times over the years, I don’t think anybody seriously expected him to hold down a job anymore. It wasn’t that he was lazy or even a bad worker. He’d just been seriously unfortunate in that department.

I was having a real struggle to readjust my thinking and figure out how this fit with the hit-and-run that killed Savannah. “So Miles is annoying. Is that why Delta hates him?”

“She doesn’t trust him, either. And that’s all I know. You’d have to ask her the rest.”

“Thanks, I think I’ll do that.” I turned toward the door again, then remembered one last question. “Has Delta ever mentioned whether Miles has family?”

Paisley gave that some thought and shook her head. “I don’t remember. Sorry. But listen, anytime you want to come in here and let me fix you up, you just let me know, okay? You let us get to work on your hair, those eyebrows, and that little shadow on your upper lip, and you’ll feel like a new woman.”

Gee, thanks!
I left there feeling almost as attractive as the night Grandma Hanks told me my shoulders were too broad for the lace dress I wanted for my graduation from junior high school. I guess some things never leave you.

 

I stayed up half the night finishing the samples I wanted for my meeting with Ruth Cohen, but by the time I crawled into bed I was satisfied with my efforts. Early the next morning, my sister-in-law showed up to work the store so I could meet with Mrs. Cohen and, hopefully, move Divinity up another rung on the ladder of success.

By nine o’clock I had my hair as under control as it ever gets and started packing the Jetta with samples. I heard the phone ring, but since I’d stuffed myself into one of the suits left over from corporate law days and jammed my feet into heels, I wasn’t moving all that quickly. By the time I hobbled inside, the ringing had stopped.

I checked voice mail and found a message from Jawarski. I was just telling myself what a pleasant way that was to start the day when he ruined everything.

“Got the autopsy results back. Thought you might be interested to know that the ME found poison in her system. Amitriptyline. I’m not planning on making that public right away. Want to see if I can shake things up a bit. But I wanted you to know.”

My hand was shaking as I disconnected. I tried calling him back, but he was already busy with something else, so I left a message and stared at the wall in front of me.

It was almost too terrible to think about.

I paced around the kitchen for a few minutes, but I couldn’t bear to do nothing. I wasn’t scheduled to be at the lodge until ten thirty, but in desperation I decided to follow up on that question I wanted to ask Delta Walters.

Delta and Charlie live in a sleepy neighborhood on the outskirts of Paradise, in the sagging two-story frame house that used to belong to Delta’s mother. Last I heard, Charlie was between jobs—but like I said, Charlie is usually between jobs.

Delta’s green Ford was sitting in the driveway, so I parked on the street and followed the narrow trail someone had scooped out of the snow and ice to the front door.

I rang the bell twice and was just turning away when the door creaked open on rusty hinges, and Delta peered out at me. She was still in pajamas covered with a ratty chenille robe. Her hair stuck out on one side and lay flat on the other. Dark ridges of old mascara formed rings beneath red, puffy eyes. She looked horrible. But was she grieving her sister’s death? It seemed unlikely if she’d been behind the wheel of that rental car, and even less likely if she’d been cold-blooded enough to poison her own sister. At least with a hit-and-run I could delude myself into thinking it had been a crime of passion.

Maybe Delta was grieving the news that Miles was entitled to half of everything she owned. She blinked a couple of times, as if she was having trouble focusing on me. “Abby? My goodness. You’re all dressed up today. What are you doing here?”

“Paisley told me that you’d taken a few days off.”

Delta nodded and squinted into the morning sunlight. “Yes, but—”

“I’m sorry about Savannah,” I said quickly. “Are you holding up okay?”

She looked me over with eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I’m holding up, but that’s about all I can say. But I’m sure you didn’t come over here to ask me that. What is it you want?”