Читать книгу Claws of Death - Linda Reilly - Страница 16

Chapter 7

“Where have you been?” Sherry Bowker bleated. She poured steaming coffee into a mug and pushed a bowl of half-and-half packets at Lara.

Lara shot a glance around Bowker’s Coffee Stop. The pastel-painted walls graced with artifacts from the 1960s never failed to elicit a smile from her. Today she spotted several unfamiliar faces. Reporters? Media types? A few of them pounded laptops as they shoveled muffins into their mouths and guzzled the coffee shop’s delicious java.

She looked back at her longtime bestie, whose raven-tinted hair sat in gelled spikes on her head. The spikes were a tad softer than usual, more curvy and feminine. “I’ve been lying low,” Lara said quietly, using Deanna’s phrase. She plopped a packet of half-and-half into her coffee. “You heard about the, um—”

“Body,” Sherry announced, a bit too loudly. “Of course I did. It’s all over the news. And you—you’ve been rubbing elbows with Hollywood royalty and haven’t even called me!”

Lara gave her a penitent look. “I’m sorry. Things have been crazy. Honestly they have.”

She’d driven her aunt to the police station early that morning so they could both sign written statements. The chief had been noticeably absent. She and her aunt had each spoken separately to a state police detective who’d worked quickly and efficiently. His keyboard skills had amazed Lara.

“And if my ears didn’t deceive me,” Sherry added, “you’ve gotten yourself involved in another flippin’ murder.”

Slowly, Lara shook her head. Is that what people were saying?

“I am not involved in another murder,” Lara said. “Not even remotely.” In a lowered voice, she explained how she’d happened to glance out the window of Deanna’s mansion and spotted the man in the cemetery.

“Unreal,” Sherry said. “You want a fresh fruit cup? Mom made them up this morning.”

“Sure. Extra blueberries, okay?”

“If you insist. How’s Fran doing?”

“Good. Taking things in stride.”

Sherry smiled. “She’s a new person since she got that left knee done.”

“She definitely has more energy, and less pain,” Lara said. “Hey, Sher, not to change the subject, but do you know a guy named Curtis Heston?”

Her friend grinned. “Hesty? Sure I do. He and his wife lived on our street before they downsized to a smaller house. He’s a super nice guy. Why?”

Omitting Blue from the story, Lara told her about his adoption application.

“Approve him,” Sherry said. “You don’t even need to check him out. Believe me, he’ll give that kitty a great home.”

“Wow. That’s quite a recommendation.”

“And you can take it to the bank,” Sherry said. “I’ll go get your fruit cup.”

Lara sipped from her mug. In part, she felt relief. But another part of her couldn’t discount Blue’s odd behavior toward Hesty.

Sherry returned a minute later with Lara’s fruit cup. In a glass dessert dish sat a mountain of blueberries nestled atop sliced peaches, pears, and strawberries. Sherry sidled away to wait on other customers.

Lara spooned fruit into her mouth, savoring the blend of flavors. Unfortunately, she didn’t have time to linger. Kayla would be returning at eleven to assist with shelter duties.

“Hey, I gotta run,” Lara told Sherry after swallowing the last blueberry. “We’ve actually hired our first official paid employee. So far she’s terrific.” She slapped her money on the counter. It was always a struggle to pay, since Sherry never wanted to accept money from her.

Sherry shot her a look, examined the money, and shoved a dollar bill back at her. “That’s nice,” she said distractedly. “Hey, are you ever going to introduce me to Deanna?”

“Of course I am, as soon as all this…nonsense is out of the way.”

“They think she did it, you know.”

Lara felt her heart lurch. “What?”

“I heard the cops talking about it this morning. As you know, I have a black belt in eavesdropping.” Sherry leaned closer. “Deanna knew that guy, the one who got offed. They think it was a lovers’ quarrel gone wrong.”

Lovers’ quarrel? Deanna hadn’t seen the man in over fifty years!

Or so she’d claimed.

Had the actress lied about their relationship?

At one of the tables, a man wearing black-rimmed glasses and sporting a wicked tan cocked his ears toward Lara. A reporter, Lara suspected. No doubt he was trying to pick up on what they were talking about.

“If you hear anything else, text me, okay?” Lara begged. “Too many curious ears in here.”

“Got it,” Sherry said.

Lara leaned across the counter, gave her friend a quick hug, and left.

* * * *

When Lara got back to her aunt’s, she noticed an older car—a Mercury, she thought—sitting in the small parking area adjacent to the shelter’s entrance. The passenger-side window bore the decal of a cat curled protectively around a tiny kitten. Lara smiled when she realized their new assistant had already arrived and was waiting to be let in. Kayla sat on the porch steps, peering at her smartphone. She grinned when she saw Lara.

“Sorry if I got here too early,” Kayla said. “I just couldn’t wait to start!”

Wearing crisp denim shorts and a pink T-shirt patterned with tiny cats all over it, she rose and quickly pocketed her phone.

“Hey there,” Lara said, smiling at their eager employee. “No problem being early. Didn’t Aunt Fran answer the bell?”

Kayla shrugged. “I buzzed, but I guess she didn’t hear it.”

Interesting, Lara thought. The Saturn was still in the driveway, since Lara always walked the short distance to the coffee shop. She unlocked the door to the back porch and Kayla followed her inside.

“Aunt Fran,” she called out.

No answer.

“Probably in the shower,” Lara said. “Why don’t you help yourself to some water or iced tea from the fridge, then you can get started.”

“Thanks.” Kayla pushed at her eyeglasses. “Should I start with scooping kitty litter?”

“That would be great. I have some references for a possible adoption I want to check out, so I’ll be in my studio. Catalina and Bitsy’s appointment is at two this afternoon. Since you’re working till four, that should give you plenty of time to get her and her kitten to and from.”

“Even if the appointment goes past four,” Kayla said, “I don’t mind working overtime. I don’t even need to get paid.”

“Thanks,” Lara said. “Then…I’ll leave you to it.”

Kayla gave her a two-fingered salute and hurried off toward the kitchen.

She’s almost too good to be true, Lara thought. Was there a catch to this wonderful new employee?

Lara heard Aunt Fran’s soft footfalls coming down the stairs. She went over to let her know Kayla had arrived. When she saw her aunt, she had to stifle a gasp.

Descending the stairs, Aunt Fran was wearing a filmy, navy blue tunic top Lara had never seen before over pale blue leggings. Jeweled earrings graced her delicate ears, and her hair was fluffed in waves around her slender neck. “Aunt Fran, you look, I mean…”

“Like a woman?” Aunt Fran laughed.

“No, I mean yes, I mean…your hair. What did you do?”

“To my hair? I bought one of those curling wands. I wasn’t blessed with your natural curls, you know.”

Lara wished she hadn’t been blessed with them, either. “Are you wearing blush? Your cheeks are rosy, and your eyes—”

“Lara, I know you’re not accustomed to seeing me this way. But in spite of being your doddering old aunt, I do occasionally like to put on some decent threads.”

Threads? Lara swallowed. Her fiftysomething aunt was anything but doddering. And she’d seen her aunt wearing makeup before, plenty of times. But this was different—it was far more enhanced, more elegant.

“It so happens Jerry and I are having lunch today at the new winery. We made the reservation some time ago. They’re very hard to get.”

Lunch? With the chief of police? With a murderer running loose?

“I can read your mind, Lara. Don’t worry. We’re making it a quick lunch. Jerry is entitled to sustenance, you know. It doesn’t detract from his duties.”

If there’d been any doubt about her aunt’s interest in the chief, they’d been dispatched like petals in a stiff summer breeze.

“You can handle things here,” Aunt Fran went on. “You always do. Was that Kayla’s voice I heard?”

“It was. She got here early.”

“Excellent. I’ll be back by mid-afternoon. Call my cell or text me if anything comes up.”

“Uh, sure thing, Aunt Fran. Have a great time. Give the chief my regards.”

Less than a year ago, her aunt didn’t even have a cell phone. Now she kept it with her at all times, checking the shelter’s Facebook page frequently. She also seemed to text a lot. Lara could only guess who she was texting.

I’ve created a monster, Lara thought, then laughed out loud. It was a monster she wouldn’t change for anything in the world.