No Hiding Behind the Potted Palms! A Dance with Danger Mystery #7 (44 page)

“You’re right, you’re right,
you’re right,” she repeated, as if it were a mantra she needed to
imprint on her brain. “I will not interfere in your relationships
and I will not interfere in his. I will be a good mother to the
pair of you and keep my opinions to myself.”

“Unless you’re asked, in
which case we want to know what you really think. Say, we should
make a list of fun things to do while he’s here. There’s a concert
coming up. Maybe we can dazzle him with that.”

“We should take him down to
the boat club,” said Mary, “and let him see that he can have his
Sea Ray down here.”

“We can take him to hit a
bucket of balls at the driving range,” I offered. “And then we can
grab a bite in the pub.”

“And there’s the deep sea
fishing tournament next month. Maybe he’ll come back for
that.”

“See, Mom? Nothing to worry
about. There’s plenty of fun stuff in Habersham. There’s no way
your boy can say no.”

We spent the next few days
finishing up projects in the shop, in anticipation of taking some
time off. I promised Mary that I would cover for her while she went
off to sightsee with her son.

“No, you have to come with
us!” she insisted. “It won’t hurt us to close the shop for a bit.
Or we could ask Misty to cover for a few hours here and there.”
Misty was soon off to University of Georgia, but at the moment, she
was working in the Rag Doll on a part-time basis.

“Good idea. I’ll talk to
Misty right now.” With Joy under my arm, I headed down Market
Street, to the clothing store, to see if she was available for
hire.

“Oh, Lucie,” said the leggy
redhead, “that would be great. I’m trying to get as many hours as I
can before I head off to school.”

“Well, in that case,
consider yourself hired. How many hours would you like to work for
us? Ten? Fifteen? Twenty?”

Misty promised to stop by
when she got out of work, to go over the employment form with Mary.
I stopped at the post office to mail some letters before heading
back to La Vie en Rose.

There were a few customers
in the shop when I got there. Mary was busy at the desk, ringing up
some merchandise. One of the customers was gazing at one of my
paintings, hanging on the way. It was a scene of cobia fishing in
Port Royal Sound. From what I could see of his back, he seemed
engrossed.

“You like it?” I came up
beside him. There was something familiar about his
profile.

“I do. I’d like to buy
it.”

“Bob! What are you doing
here?” I hadn’t seen him since the day I disembarked from the
Beauty of the Seas.

“I was in the area on
business and I thought I would check and see how you’re doing. You
look well,” he said approvingly. “And the shop is
wonderful.”

“Thanks,” I
smiled.

“I do want to buy this,” he
pointed.

“Consider it my
gift.”

“I can’t do that, Lucie.
It’s too valuable.”

“Bob.” I took his arm in
mine and pointed to the painting. “Without you, none of this would
have been possible. You hooked me up with Mary, who’s great, by the
way. My life is more than I expected it to be. I want you to have
this. Really.”

“Well, thank you. I’ll think
of you every time I look at it.”

“Can you stay for dinner,
Bob? It’s so wonderful to see you again.”

“I’ll take a rain check on
that. I have a flight to catch.”

“Sure,” I nodded.
Disappointment threw a wet cloud over the sunshine that crept into
the shop with Bob. Even now, there was still that tug towards him,
even though he didn’t seem available. Mary joined us.

“Did you have a chance to
say hi to Mary?”

“I did,” he said, putting an
arm around her and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “And I thanked
her for taking such good care of you.”

“I’ve given Bob ‘Cobia
Fishing in Port Royal Sound’,” I told Mary. Turning back to him, I
asked if I could pack it for him.

“You know what, Lucie? I’ll
be back soon. Can you hold onto it until then?”

“Would you prefer that I
ship it to you? Just give me your address,” I told him, turning
towards the desk. I intended to get a piece of paper to write down
the information.

“Bad idea,” he replied,
stopping me with a hand on my arm, “security-wise.”

“Right.” As I looked in his
eyes, I had my doubts that he would ever come back for the
painting. Maybe he was just trying to make me feel good about my
art. Or maybe he was just being kind.

“Well, I should get going.
Take care of yourself.” Bob leaned in and pressed his lips to my
cheek.

“You, too.” I smiled
wistfully as he headed out the door.

“Promise me something,” said
Mary as she came up to me. “Don’t run off with him, at least not
before Saturday.”

“Oh, I don’t think you have
to worry about that. He doesn’t seem all that interested in me that
way.” I had a lump in my throat as I made that
admission.

“A lot you know,” was all
she said.

By Saturday morning, we were
ready for Robbie’s visit. Mary had made cookies and a peach pie,
the refrigerator was stocked with all of his favorite things, and
we had a reservation at Colonel Abbott’s Verandah for dinner. A
little before nine, Mary headed downstairs to open the shop. I
decided it was a good time to take Joy around the block. Slipping
on her tiny harness, I carried her downstairs and set her down on
the patio at the rear of the unit. She tumbled across the brick
pavers, eager to explore. Sniffing around the rose bushes, she
pulled on the leash while I was locking the back door.

“Look who’s here!” said a
familiar male voice. I whirled around to find Bob Ryan kneeling
down to greet the little Maltese puppy. Joy licked Bob’s hand like
he was her oldest and dearest friend.

Epilogue --

“She’s adorable.”

“What brings you here
today?” I asked. “Did you come for the painting?”

“Something like that,” was
his answer. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“I was going to walk Joy
around the block. Care to join me?”

We did a loop through Market
Square. I pointed out some of my favorite stores and the cafe where
I liked to pick up lunch when things were busy at the
shop.

“What’s on your schedule
today?” Bob looked at me with those brown eyes and my first thought
was the promise I made to Mary. I couldn’t deny that I was more
than ready to throw all good sense out the window and go off with
him the moment he asked me. We stood in front of La Vie en Rose,
reluctant to enter. Were we afraid our time together would end the
second we opened the door and went in?

“Mary’s son, Robbie, is
visiting. I promised her that I would meet him.”

“And after that?” He scooped
up Joy in his hands, holding her close to his chest.

“I don’t want to disappoint
her. She’s been lobbying hard on his behalf.”

“Has she? What do you think
of him so far?” Bob’s eyes bore right through me with an intensity
that made me blush. There was little doubt about his purpose in
coming back. I had not imagined the sparks between us.

“Mary’s a wise, kind lady. I
assume her son has her good genes.”

“That’s a pretty big
assumption, Lucie. The guy could be a complete loser.”

“And maybe he’s not,” I
replied defensively.

“So you’re
tempted?”

“I didn’t say that,
Bob.”

“Meaning I have a
chance?”

“I promised Mary I would not
make a decision until I met her son. I owe her that much,” I
insisted.

“Looks like I can’t talk you
out of that.”

“No, you can’t.” I looked up
as Mary opened the shop door and stuck her head out.

“When you two are done
dancing around out there, I could really use your help moving some
heavy packages.” I noticed there was a satisfied smile on her face.
We followed her into the shop, and Bob handed Joy to me as he bent
to lift a rather large box.

“Where do you want this,
Mom?” he inquired. She pointed to the back door.

“Over there,
Robbie.”

“Mom? Robbie?” I exclaimed.
“You’re Mary’s son?”

“Guilty as
charged.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why
was it such a secret?”

“I wanted you to like me for
me,” Bob grinned. “And my mother has a tendency to try to fix me
up. She decided she wanted you as a daughter-in-law on the Beauty
of the Seas, but we both agreed you needed time to
heal.”

“And I challenged him to
come back in a year and see if he was still crazy about you,
Lucie.”

“Which I am,” Bob admitted.
“That’s why I took a job as a forensic financial analyst for Hardy,
Wecal, and Dubois. I’m heading up their Savannah office. I’m just a
regular guy now.”

“You’ll never be just a
regular guy,” I laughed. “I can see I’ll need to stay on my toes to
keep up with you.”

“In that case, care to
dance?” With a grand flourish, Bob bowed before taking me and tiny
Joy in his arms. As he twirled us around the shop, he called over
his shoulder to Mary. “By the way, Mom, I’ll be getting married
again, and this time, I think you’ll really like the
girl!”

Square Dance with a Scandalous
Skunk

It’s true that skunks can be real
stinkers, but the truth is the skunk only sprays when he feels he’s
in danger. Men, on the other hand, don’t always give warning before
they strike out. Suzanne isn’t exactly a great judge of male
character -- she often leads with her heart and not her head when
it comes to romance. She’s an “either or” kind of girl -- she
trusts too much or not enough. She’s about to learn the hard way
that she needs to smarten up when it comes to men....

Chapter One –

It’s never a normal day when you
find a dead body in the yard. To be honest, it’s a first for me. I
carefully inspected the place before we bought it and there was
nothing to indicate anything unsavory ever occurred in that sweet
little bungalow. All I saw the first time I set eyes on the place
was a darling of a doll’s house I thought could be a real winner
for a real estate flip.

You might think that the home
inspector should have turned up the skeletal remains as he went
over the place with a fine-toothed comb, but they were so well
hidden, there was no way Sid Lowame could have uncovered them. He
did question the water bill, though, and suggested there was a leak
somewhere outside the house. That’s what started the ball
rolling.

We stumbled on the bones while
digging up the yard with a back hoe, trying to find it. The
killer’s shovel put a hole in that water pipe while he was
depositing his victim into her almost-final resting
place.

I admit I might have ignored some of
the warning signs because I was so bent on buying the bungalow. Any
time you have a missing person, you probably should wonder if
something sinister happened on the property. I’ll remember that the
next time this crops up, but I hope it doesn’t. This experience
will last me a couple of lifetimes.

“It’s worth the investment,” I
declared as I led my boss up the old, broken cement sidewalk on
that first day. “This is a treasure for the taking. It just needs
some TLC.”

“Why, pray tell, would I want to do
that?” Ned glanced at me as he began the usual effort to poke holes
in my plans. “How does that benefit me?”

“Does everything have to benefit
you?” I shot back. “Does the world always have to revolve around
you?”

“Of course it does. I’m the boss. I
pay the bills.” He glanced at the tiny bungalow under the sycamore
tree. “The house has good bones – I’ll give you that. Why do you
think this is a worthy choice for the price? It’s
small.”

I struggled to figure out a way to
convince him that this house would be perfect for a flip, likely to
sell quickly with new bathroom fixtures, new kitchen counters, and
a few other cosmetic improvements. I’m a Ms. Fix-It, and there is
nothing I love better than bringing an old wreck back to life. And
I’m really good at it. I only wish I was as good at romance as I am
at renovation.

“I think we can get it all done in
six weeks, Ned. I also think we can convince the owner to drop the
price $20,000. After all, it’s been sitting on the market for
almost eight months.”

“The yard’s practically
non-existent.”

“Yes, but that’s the beauty of it.
It’s a corner lot. I thought we could do a fenced yard with a brick
paver patio in the back, landscape it so there’s no grass to cut,
but with plenty of plantings beds. It would be very appealing. If
we also take out the grass out of the front yard, add a parking
area, a curved walkway and more planting beds, the new homeowner
has a charming bungalow that’s practically maintenance-free -- the
convenience of a condo in a single family home. I thought it would
be a good fit for a couple that’s ready to downsize or a single
professional.”