Tempest in the Tea Leaves (21 page)

I raised my fist and got ready to pummel him good when a deep voice said, “Tink, what the hell are you doing?”

“D-Detective Stone?” I stuttered in shock, staring down into dark eyes that haunted my sleep, and then I scowled. “Me? What I’d like to know is what the hell are
you
doing . . .
Mitchell
.”

I scrambled off the top of Mitch and got to my feet to inspect my car. “Great,” I said as I circled her, and then gasped. “Oh my God, look at the dent in the side. The pink flower is all crinkled.”

“Relax, Tink. Big Don can pop that right out.” Mitch stood and brushed all the snow off his jeans. “Why were you driving like a bat out of hell in this weather?”

“Because you were chasing me. Not too smart in this weather, Spanky. I could have ended up crashing through the ice, and it would have been all your fault.” I jabbed a finger in his direction. “I thought you were the killer.”

“My fault? You shouldn’t have been out in these conditions, anyway. I was making a final round to ensure no crazy fool was in trouble. I should have known better.” He threw his hands up in the air and then paused. “Hold on, back up a minute. Why would the killer be after you?”

“Hello, I am still a suspect, and I was the last person to see Amanda Robbins alive. Maybe the killer is afraid she told me something incriminating before she died.”

His face grew concerned. “Has anything else happened?”

“Um, well, no.” I couldn’t tell him about the digoxin in my cupboard and pocket. It sounded too suspicious for even me to believe. But I could tell him about my stalker. I would feel better if at least one other person was aware I could be in danger. “Someone was following me when I was walking from Nikko’s back to the Laundromat, though.”

“Are you sure?” He studied me.

“Positive. I saw their shadow duck behind a building.”

“Are you crazy, Tink? You have no way of protecting yourself.” He glared at me, shoving a hand through his hair. “You must be trying to get yourself killed.”

“Oh please. I was fine.” I wasn’t stupid. I had the pepper spray I’d borrowed from his apartment, but I couldn’t exactly tell him that without suffering the consequences.

“You weigh nothing.” He gestured toward my body with his hands. “A strong wind could break you in two.”

“Um, no, that would be my mother,” I said, feeling a warm rush wash over me following the path of his eyes. “I enjoy food way too much.”

“You’d never know it.” He started pacing, and I could literally see the wheels turning in his mind. “Speaking of food, who was with you at Nikko’s?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

His eyes cut to mine. “Actually, I would, since I asked you to dinner and you said you wanted to rest.”

“Well, you certainly didn’t waste any time in replacing me,” I snapped back.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh no, don’t you go acting all innocent on me.” I stabbed my finger in his chest. “I saw you at Smokey Jo’s with Lucinda Griswold III.”

“You were there?” His eyes widened.

“Ha! So you don’t deny it.”

“Of course not.” He looked confused. “I was checking her out, but don’t worry about her. She’s fine.”

“I’ll bet. You certainly looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

Dawning washed over his face like soapy water over my teapot, when everything becomes crystal clear. “I know what this is about. You’re jealous.”

“Am not.” I stepped forward and snapped my spine straight. “We’ve already established there’s nothing between us and never will be.”

“Exactly.” He stepped forward as well and shoved his face close to mine. “Then why are you so angry?” he asked softly, and I could feel his warm breath on my cheeks.

“I-I’m not angry.” I stumbled back a step. “I don’t think taking Lucinda back to your apartment is necessary to figure her out. It’s not very professional, and she might get the wrong idea. And how do you know she’s fine? We still don’t know why she wants this particular library to stay open.”

“Trust me on this and never mind about her. She’s rich and bored, that’s all.”

I knew him well enough by now to know there was something he wasn’t telling me. Some partner he was. Well, if he could keep secrets, then so could I. I’d keep the little matter of a certain conversation one Alex Pendleton had to myself as well.

“You still didn’t say why you were at Nikko’s if you already ate at Smokey Jo’s,” Mitch pointed out.

I lifted my hands in the air. “My washer broke so I was doing laundry. I went for a walk while my clothes were drying.”

He glanced in the back of my VW bug. “Then where is your laundry basket?”

“Trust me on this and never mind about that.” I threw his words back at him. “It’s fine.”

He narrowed his eyes but didn’t press the issue. “Better call for a tow before we freeze to death. I’ll drive you home.”

“Aye aye, Grump Nazi,” I muttered, and grabbed his cell.

“Hey, what are you doing now?”

“I left my phone at my house.”

“And you think you can take of yourself.” He walked away to further inspect my car while I made arrangements for the tow truck to take my bug to Big Don’s Auto Body.

Hopefully, the damage wouldn’t be too much to fix. Without working and with this case taking longer than expected to wrap up, my savings were dwindling fast. Although, lately, going back to the city was looking better and better.

Something I never thought I’d live to say.

“What’s the damage, Big Don?” I asked the next morning as I stood beside the giant of a man in his auto-body shop. He had to be at least six foot six, nearly as tall as Wally, with a waistline even bigger than Lulubelle’s and a head the size of a basketball.

“Hmmm,” he grumbled while rubbing his thick beard. “I’ll try to keep her under a thousand, but you did a number on her. She’s no spring chicken, you know.”

“Great.” The detective should have to go halfsies with me on this one, considering he scared me half to death. If he hadn’t been following me, I never would have whirled off the road like a spinning top in the first place. “Go ahead and fix her. She might not be much, but she’s all I’ve got.”

“Done.”

“Good. Belle says you do great work, by the way.”

His face flushed crimson, and he nodded once. “Belle’s a good woman,” was all he said, and then he headed back into his office. I doubted Belle had any idea that Big Don actually had noticed her and, if I wasn’t mistaken, was a bit sweet on her. He just needed a push to make a move.

I turned to leave, and a big old station wagon came rolling in, looking even older than my bug. I stifled a chuckle when the driver climbed out. I should have known Gladys Montgomery would be the driver, she being into old things and all. She got out of the car and made a beeline straight into Big Don’s office.

Glancing around, I realized no one was watching me, so I nonchalantly walked over to the station wagon and peeked inside. The back looked empty as far as I could tell, other than a bunch of real estate listings from Rosemary on various properties in town, all of them zoned for business.

Wandering around to the front passenger’s side, I tried the door, and it was unlocked, squeaking open as if it were a sign. I poked my head inside, flipped the visors open, and then ducked my head down to the floor mat to peek under the seat. My eyelids opened wide.

Gladys was packing?

“Excuse me, may I help you?” her voice said from right behind my backside.

I jumped and hit my head on the dash, yelping in pain.

“What in the world are you doing in my car, young lady?” She puckered her face like a sour pickle.

“Admiring it?” I said in question format. “I love old cars, too, if you haven’t noticed. I took a peek inside to check out the upholstery and dashboard, when I lost my earring under the seat.”

“You’re not wearing an earring in the other ear.” She squinted. “In fact, I don’t see any earring holes at all.”

“It was a clip-on. Wearing only one earring is a trendy big-city thing.” I cleared my throat, and she eyed me warily.

“It’s Sunny, isn’t it?” she asked with a smile that looked way too bright to be natural.

“Yes, ma’am, and you must be Gladys.” I held out my hand and shook hers. “Great speech you gave the other day at the town hall meeting.”

“Why, thank you.” She beamed, relaxing a little. “Some people don’t understand what this town needs to survive, let alone actually thrive for a change. God forbid if we get out of the red.” She bristled. “But don’t get me started on that.”

“Change is hard for anyone. I know from firsthand experience. You really think this deal with that developer, um, what was his name?” I watched her carefully.

“Alex—er, Mr. Pendleton.”

“Right. Mr. Pendleton.” You could tell a lot about a relationship from the way people addressed each other. “You really think the deal will be good for Divinity?”

“Absolutely. We need this deal as much as we need our national landmarks. Turning the library into a bookstore will bring in money and jobs. Turning the hotel into a museum will also bring in revenue.”

She went on a rant, arms flailing about like something right out of a puppet show. “As much as I love the library, we can’t afford for anything to be free in these hard times. Why can’t she see that? Someone needs to make her see it, is what I say. I know the people are hurting, but our town is hurting more. Stupid woman is going to ruin it all. I just know it.”

“Who is?” I had realized a long time ago it was better to let people talk. They often revealed more than if you asked them questions outright.

“Huh?” Gladys looked startled, as though just now remembering she was talking to me and not herself. “Oh my.” She smoothed her hair. “Sometimes I get carried away over things I’m passionate about.”

“That’s okay, I’m the same way.” I nodded. But there was a fine line between passion and obsession. “You were saying?” I tried to encourage her to keep talking, but then Big Don popped his head out the office door.

“Gladys, your ride’s here,” he boomed.

“Thanks, Don.” She waved at him, grabbed her purse, and said, “Nice to meet you, Ms. Meadows,” as she hustled to the door.

She might not have said the name, but I was pretty sure Lucinda Griswold III was the “she” Gladys had been referring to. The bigger question was, how exactly was Gladys going to
make
her see the error of her ways?

The gun she was packing beneath her seat?

 

 

“Sylvia, honestly, you haven’t tried on a single thing.” My mother walked beside me down the street, frowning on the inside, I was sure. God forbid she wrinkle her face any more than her clothes.

After lunch, we had gone into almost every single one of the quaint little shops Divinity had to offer. Unlike most of the female population, I did
not
enjoy shopping. I led a simple life with simple needs. My mother could not seem to wrap her brain around that and insisted on dragging me shopping with her every chance she got. She was determined to reform me one day, and no matter how many times I claimed that would never happen, she refused to give up.

“I haven’t found anything worth trying on, that’s why,” I responded.

We entered a designer dress shop, and Mom went to work, determined to find something for me to try on. While she was browsing the racks, I bumped into someone.

“Whoops, sorry.” I turned around and looked straight into the face of Mrs. Sampson. “Maude, hi. So nice to see you again. You didn’t miss lunch with Bernard again, did you?” I teased.

She stared at me blankly. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“It’s me, Sunny. From the library.”

“Ah, yes, the library. I must get back to work. I’m late again.” She fled without another word.

“But you’re retired,” I hollered after her to no avail.