Читать книгу Slightly Psychic - Sandra Steffen, Sandra Steffen - Страница 12

When Lila was growing up, her mother often said she was too curious for her own good. Evidently, that hadn’t changed. Why else would she stop what she was doing to answer the door?

The woman on her front porch wore a wide-brimmed hat and a tentative smile. “I’m Katherine Avery. You might have noticed my antique store on Rebellion Street. I understand you’re interested in selling some of Myrtle Ann’s pieces.”

If the fiasco last fall had taught Lila anything, it was to proceed with caution. “What makes you think that?”

Katherine Avery removed her hat and fanned herself with it, the man-made breeze stirring her chin-length dark hair. “Your friend mentioned it to Trudy at the diner. Trudy told Ginny Calhoun. I believe it was Ginny who told Irene Motz, who was trying on the new nautical sweaters at the dress boutique while your friend was talking to Priscilla, the owner, about possibly working there. Regardless, it was Irene who first mentioned it to me.”

Lila’s dismay must have shown, because Katherine tilted her head slightly and said, “My mama used to say the rumor mill is the wireless telegraph in its purest form. May I come in?”

Feeling a surge of anticipation of something pleasant, Lila opened the door. Katherine came in as if she knew her way around. She examined a lamp on the hall table, a stack of old books, and finally the table itself, her hands gliding lovingly over surfaces, a finger touching here and smoothing there. When she came to a ledger Lila had discovered an hour ago, she leafed through pages of columns of amounts and prices of vegetables and fruit sold by the peck and bushel. “After Harlan died, Myrtle Ann supported herself from the proceeds of a fruit and vegetable stand. This is quite a find, you know.”

It was only one of many such items Lila had come across. All morning she’d been going through bureau drawers and cubbies crammed to bursting with buttons, recipes, receipts, used wrapping paper and the mail. Once considered a personality quirk, psychologists today viewed hoarding as a symptom of a mental condition associated with obsessive-compulsive disorder. Lila was of the opinion that people who hoarded saw potential in everything.

Where would she be if Myrtle Ann hadn’t seen the potential in her?

Sorting through all the clutter and chaos was bringing a sense of order and a deeper understanding of the former owner of The Meadows. It was an unusual way to get to know someone.

Katherine was looking at the tall armoire in the corner the way a mountain climber might look at Annapurna. Reverently placing her hand on the front panel, she said, “This has the original finish. Myrtle Ann always did know how to care for old treasures.”

“Were you a friend of Myrtle Ann’s?” Lila asked.

“In a way, perhaps, but she wasn’t what you’d call a people person. Folks said she was crazy, you know.”

“Was she?”

“Not any crazier than the rest of us.” Katherine’s gaze caught on her own reflection in an antique mirror and she seemed a bit startled.

“Is something wrong?” Lila asked.

“Sometimes I don’t recognize myself.” She colored slightly, as if she hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

Experience and training kept Lila silent, but she continued to watch Katherine closely.

“I walk past a mirror, and I wonder, who is this person? I look vaguely familiar, but I bear little resemblance to the face I’m expecting. I miss—”

When it became apparent that she didn’t plan to finish the statement, Lila asked softly, “What do you miss?”

Katherine seemed to be running through a mental checklist. “I suppose I miss the woman I thought I’d be by now.”

“You miss the woman you thought you’d be and I miss the woman I thought I was. My situation forced me to remove my rose-colored glasses, but psychologists call the phenomenon you described as displacement of self. If I was still practicing, and you were my patient, I would tell you she’s in there waiting for you to recognize her and reconnect.”

“You’re good,” Katherine said.

“I used to charge a hundred dollars an hour for sharing my insight, and I just offered it to you free of charge. Did you really come out here because of Trudy or Priscilla or Ginny or what was her name? Irene?”

If she hadn’t been looking, Lila would have missed the way Katherine schooled her expression before answering, “I have at least three customers who would pay dearly for that Dutch armoire alone. As long as I’m here, I might as well tell you I think Myrtle Ann was very wise to leave her home to you.”

Lila didn’t know what to say. She certainly hadn’t expected that. “You said she kept to herself?”

“What little family Myrtle Ann had died a long time ago. I think Joe knew her better than anyone. A lot of folks wondered if you would turn him out when you arrived. I’m glad you didn’t.”

“You care what happens to Joe?” Lila had been so intrigued by the conversation she hadn’t realized Katherine was leaving until she found herself on one side of the screen door, Katherine Avery on the other.

“Joe and my husband played baseball together in high school. He was the best man at our wedding.”

That didn’t really answer the question, but Katherine was gliding down the porch steps, calling “thank you” over her shoulder. “I hope you’ll keep me in mind if you decide to part with that armoire or any of the other treasures. Stop by the store anytime. Have a good day.”

Back in the living room, Lila wondered what that had been about. She didn’t doubt Katherine’s sincerity when it came to antiques. But she’d seemed to be guarding something. Or someone. Lila was still thinking about that when Pepper returned a few minutes later.

Dropping her Gucci bag on a table already stacked high with old newspapers, Pepper said, “That man doesn’t like me.”

“What man?” Lila looked up from the same piece of junk mail she’d been staring at for the last five minutes.

“Joe.”

“You never think anybody likes you.”

“Trust fund babies never know who they can trust. Ironic isn’t it?”

Pepper’s sigh contained all the drama of an Audrey Hepburn movie. It took Lila back to the day she and Pepper met during their freshman year at Radcliffe. Back then, Lila had spent most of her time studying so she wouldn’t lose her scholarship, while Pepper spent her free time with other girls who had buildings and library additions named after their relatives. Needing a break from her studies, Lila had gone to the video store to rent a movie. She and Pepper both reached for the only copy of the 1948 version of Anna Karenina. It had been Pepper’s idea to watch it together. Thanks to Vivien Leigh, they’d clicked. Discovering someone who didn’t like her for her family’s money was a novel experience for Pepper, but the friendship worked both ways.

“I didn’t expect you back so soon,” Lila said.

“Whoever said small-town people are big gossips hasn’t visited Murray, Virginia, on a Monday morning in late May.”

“No one wanted to talk to you?” Lila asked, incredulous.

“Difficult to believe, isn’t it? Although now that you mention it, they were more than willing to share anecdotes and stories about moonshine and legendary fog so thick farmers have been known to turn it over with their plows without realizing it,” Pepper scoffed. “Who cares about fog? I want to know about Joe and Noreen McCaffrey. Every woman I spoke with clicked her tongue and shook her head when I mentioned Joe’s name, but the second I asked, discreetly, mind you, where he might have stashed Noreen’s body, every one of them suddenly had a million things to do.”

“I can’t imagine why Joe doesn’t like you.”

“I wasted my time fine-tuning my résumé. There isn’t much call for a French interpreter in Murray. And the museums in the valley all seem to revolve around the Rebellion, which is how I would refer to the Civil War if I were you. It’s still a sore subject down here, although I’d hold a grudge, too, if my ancestral home had been burned to the ground for no reason. I thought I had the owner of the dress boutique interested in hiring me, but then she asked if I’ve ever worked in a retail capacity. I couldn’t very well lie, could I?” Pepper sighed all over again. “The truth will get you every time.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Lila said.

“I did receive two marriage proposals.”

“Only two? It must have been a slow day,” Lila said, throwing away a stack of old mail.

“Neither of the men had his teeth in, and you know how I value good oral health.”

“And did either of them have any idea where Noreen McCaffrey is?”

Pepper dropped so heavily to the old camelback sofa that dust floated up all around her. Jumping up again in disgust, she said, “It’s obvious everyone I’ve talked to believes Joe did it. What will it take to convince you?”