2 On the Nickel (10 page)

I did my best imitation of
Britt’s steely gaze. “Britt is interviewing the clergy and the church office
staff right now. It’s only a matter of time until he interviews you. He knows
your friends are lying. He told me so. When he sees your car, he’ll lock you up
and throw away the key.”

Mama’s chin jutted out. “Let him
come,” she growled. “I didn’t murder anyone.”

Her nostrils flared pure dragon
fire. “And another thing. I’m sick and tired of you bossing me around. This is my house. I can come and go as I please. Stick that in a boring sandwich and
eat it.”

Chapter 7

Water pulsed out of the showerhead, kneading the knotted
muscles in my back. I rolled my shoulders every which way to relieve tension. Between
the murder investigation, Mama’s secrets, and my hot date tonight, I couldn’t
relax. The kids weren’t helping either.

“Mom, I have to have that new camera,” Lexy shouted through the bathroom door. “Did you even read that spec sheet I brought home?”

“I’ll check into it, Lex. But not
right now. Later,” I promised. I ducked back under the stream to rinse
conditioner from my hair.

Blessed silence followed. Then
Charla burst into the bathroom. “Mom, I desperately need a new wardrobe. Misty
Rogerson has the cutest jean skirt ever invented. When can we go shopping, Mom?
Can we go this weekend?”

After three days of school she
already wanted new clothes? I gave up on the water massage. At this rate I’d be
wrinkled as a prune if I didn’t finish up in here. I lathered up with the
expensive soap Jonette had given me. The kind that matched the perfume I planned to wear. The kind I had never used before.

The fragrance was heavenly. I
inhaled a lungful and hummed inside. “You’re in charge of your clothing
allowance, dear. You know if you have money left.”

She wiped the steam off the
mirror and studied her face. “That’s another thing, Mom. My clothing allowance
isn’t nearly enough. You can’t expect me to wear the same things day in and day
out. Plus, my clothes are lame.”

“Charla, you selected every item
in your closet. Don’t blame me if you don’t like them.” I had clothing worries
of my own for tonight. The selections in my closet weren’t exciting. I’d bought
conservative clothes because the old Cleo didn’t like drawing unwanted
attention to herself. But the new Cleo had the opposite goal.

My daughter stomped her foot and
whirled, red hair flying like a wind-tossed veil. “All the guys couldn’t keep
their eyes off of Devon today, Mom. I’ll bet she doesn’t have a clothing
budget.”

I shut the water off and reached
for a towel. “I’m an accountant. Your grandfather was an accountant. Even if we
became wealthy overnight, we’d live on a budget. That’s how Sampsons are.”

“That’s like so unfair. I’m not a
Sampson. I’m a Jones. I’m talking to Daddy about this.”

I hoped Mama didn’t hear Charla
denying her Sampson heritage. Her flip dismissal of all that my parents and I
had worked for wouldn’t set well with Mama. We owned this house free and clear,
the business, too. Sampsons were long-term planners. And my plan for tonight
was to enjoy time away from my responsibilities.

Wrapped in a damp towel, I darted
to my bedroom, expecting both girls and the dog to be camped out at the
bathroom door, but I only had to navigate around the dog. Ah, peace and quiet
at last.

Madonna lumbered up with a groan
and followed me to my bedroom. She padded over to the inflatable whelping box,
grabbed a huge mouthful of ruined sheets, then headed for my bed. Only she was
too heavy to get more than her front legs up on the mattress. She cried
pitifully.

Sympathy welled. The vet said I
was supposed to relieve her anxiety, not add to it. The dog sensed something was different about tonight. The least I could do was to help her get what she wanted. I
was probably confusing the dog by allowing her back on my bed, but I needed her
to be content. I lifted her rear end, and she licked my face appreciatively.

With that done, I headed over to
my closet. I needed to focus if I wanted to look like a woman Rafe dated. Sophisticated
and polished didn’t come naturally to me.

Too bad my wardrobe lacked zip.
Jonette had threatened to toss everything out and start over, but I wouldn’t
let her. Conservative is my middle name, although tonight, I wanted something fun to wear.

I flipped through the outfits
hanging in my closet. Too old. Too frumpy. Too ten years ago. I settled on a
taupe blouse and a pair of slacks that were a shade darker. Not exactly a hot
outfit, but tasteful. Tasteful was important.

“Mom, whatcha’ doing?” Charla
entered the room and joined Madonna on my bed. Madonna’s tail thumped happily
against my rock-hard pillow and scratchy bargain-basement sheets. The dog
rested her jumbo head in Charla’s lap.

“Getting dressed for my dinner
date,” I answered, removing the taupe shirt and slacks from my closet. I wished
for privacy, but I’d always had an open-door policy with my girls. One man
wouldn’t change that.

“About that new camera, Mom,” Lexy stated as she entered the bedroom and climbed up on the bed, flopping across
the pillows. “When can I get it?”

The taupe blouse was just light
enough that the black bra might be visible through it. Darn. I wouldn’t dream
of going out in public like that. With a sigh, I settled for an institutional
white bra and cotton panties. Too bad for Rafe. Too bad for me, too. I needed a black blouse. Looks like I’d be frequenting the clearance sales.

“Mom, are you listening to me?” Lexy asked.

Under cover of my damp towel, I
shimmied into my panties. “Sorry, Lexy. I didn’t promise you a new digital camera. Those things cost a fortune. I promised we would price them out, borrow one, or see if we
could buy a used one.”

“Mom, that won’t work,” Lexy
insisted. “I need the latest technology if I want a shot at staff photographer.
The photos from the old digitals are too pixilated for the yearbook. I need a
brand new camera.”

I blotted my damp hair on the
towel before I donned the rest of my clothes. The mirror on my dresser
reflected three pairs of eyes avidly watching my every move. The girls hadn’t
been this fascinated with my clothing since potty-training days.

I slipped into my bra. “I can’t
believe the yearbook staff is required to own state-of-the-art technology.
You’re going to a public high school, for Pete’s sake. What’s wrong with our
old thirty-five millimeter? It takes excellent photos.”

“But in order to use them for the
yearbook, we’d have to pay to convert the images to electronic files. I have to
have this digital camera, Mom. My whole life depends on it.”

“Let’s talk about me now,” Charla said. She flipped her curly red hair over her shoulder. “We should start
shopping for my fancy white dress tomorrow. Barbie Sperry and Marissa McGregor
already found their dresses at a bridal shop. They say the good ones go first,
and I definitely want a good one.”

I slid into my slacks and blouse.
I was not taking my fifteen-year-old daughter to a bridal shop to try on
wedding gowns. “What about the stores that sell prom dresses? Don’t they have
white ones left over from last spring?”

“No one gets their Snow Ball gowns
from a department store, Mom.” Charla’s expressive hands punctuated her every
word. “Don’t you know anything? Besides, look at it this way. It will be a two-for-one
deal. Once we have the gown for the Snow Ball, I’ll be all set for my wedding.”

Madonna moaned as Charla’s movements shook the bed. “Careful with the dog, dear. She shouldn’t be jostled around.”

Charla cooed and kissed Madonna
on the nose. “I’m sorry.”

Madonna thumped her tail again,
whacking Lexy on the butt. “Hey. Watch it,” Lexy said.

“About the dress,” Charla
continued, “We could start at Wedding Central tomorrow and work our way down
the wedding food chain.”

“No way,” Lexy said. “I need that
camera for school next week. I get Mom tomorrow.”

Ignoring them, I opened my
jewelry box. Pearls reminded me too much of Mama. My heart-shaped locket had
been an anniversary gift from Charlie. I chose a delicate gold chain with an emerald pendant. Daddy had given me that necklace for my thirtieth birthday.

A splash of cologne, a pair of gold
hoops, taupe heels, and I was ready to go. “How do I look?”

“Isn’t that shirt see-through?”
Charla said.

I glanced in the mirror. Was the
shirt too sheer? I would be mortified if everyone in the Boar’s Head could see
my bra. Even if my bra was white. “Do you think so?”

“Don’t worry, Mom,” Lexy said. “It
isn’t like anyone would actually look at your shirt.”

Her comment sent me scurrying back to my closet. What good was going out on a date if no one saw the clothes I
wore? I didn’t want Rafe to be bored.

Ten minutes later, every outfit I
owned had been rejected by my fashion critics. Tufts of white dog hair dotted
my clothes, and the wild look in my eyes was exceeded only by my pounding
headache.

“Cleo?” Rafe called from the foot
of the stairs. “You ready?”

Panic flashed through my veins.
Not only was I not ready, but I literally had nothing to wear. I made an
executive decision. “Out.” I pointed to the door. “Both of you. Out.”

As they filed out, I hollered
down to Rafe. “Just a minute.”

I hurried to the phone and called
Jonette at the Tavern. “Emergency. No clothes. Hot date. What to do?”

Loud music and raucous laughter
filled my ear. “Where are you going?” Jonette asked.

“Boar’s Head.”

“No problem. Your taupe slacks
and blouse are perfect.”

In dismay, I glanced at the
discarded clothing strewn all over my bedroom. From the disarray, it appeared a
tornado had whirled through my belongings, scattering and destroying everything
in its path.

I had no idea where my taupe
outfit was. But it had to be in here somewhere. “Charla said the shirt was too
see-through.”

Jonette snorted her disapproval. “Charla
wants you to get back together with Charlie. She can’t be objective about your
date clothing. Trust me. The taupe outfit is fine. But we need to work more on
the see-through angle.”

I stopped rifling through my
discarded clothes. Anxiety knotted my stomach. “My taupe blouse is see-through?
I’ve worn it all over town. For years. I’ve even worn it to church.”

“Would you stop with that? Your
taupe outfit isn’t see-through. Just the opposite. What I meant is you need to buy sheer blouses. I can help you with that.”

I pawed through the clothes, left
shoulder pressed up high to keep the phone in place. Taupe slacks. Where were
they? “Okay. Thanks, Jonette. I can handle this from here.”

“Wait. Did you find out anything
from the church ladies?”

The cuff of my taupe slacks
protruded from a prim hunter-green suit I’d tried on and hated. “Maybe. Muriel
was starting to tell me something Erica did to her when Britt showed up. Erica
had run-ins with people besides Mama. The trouble is that Mama was Erica’s most
vocal opponent. How about you? Did you have any luck?”

“I heard that Erica visited her
lawyer’s office a lot lately. Plus, she hadn’t paid her weekly bill at the
beauty shop in over three months.”

Triumphantly I snatched the
clothes I’d been searching for from the discard pile. I shook the dog hair and
wrinkles out of my slacks and shirt. “Why do some people think they don’t have
to pay for things? I would no more get a haircut I couldn’t pay for than fly to
the moon.”

“Me, neither.”

“I’ve got to go. Rafe is waiting.”

Jonette laughed, deep and
throaty. “Waiting is good for men. Puts them in their place and heightens
anticipation. Don’t worry about the delay. Your date will be fine.”

I hoped she was right. I didn’t
want to send Rafe the wrong signal. But I’d feel much more comfortable if I
knew what the right signal was.

Rafe’s eyes lit up as I descended
the staircase. “You look great.” His possessive kiss curled my toes. “You smell even better.”

My tingling skin had me wishing dinner was done, and we were alone at his place. I kissed him back. “You, too.”

“Watch that. There are
impressionable young children in this house,” Charla said, using her
cheerleading voice that carried across two football fields.

I shared a conspiratorial look
with Rafe that I hoped said “we’ll finish this later” loud and clear, then I
reached for my purse. Madonna, who had been watching me like a hawk, started
whimpering.

Her neediness reminded me of Charla at two. I patted the dog on the head. “I’ll be back soon, Madonna. Until then,
Charla and Lexy will take good care of you.”

“She wouldn’t cry if you didn’t
leave her,” Lexy pointed out. “Mom, did you see the ‘For Rent’ sign on Ed
Monday’s house?”

The house next door had been
empty ever since my next-door neighbor, Ed Monday, was arrested and
incarcerated. I’d gotten used to it being quiet around here these last few
months. Guess the kids had, too. I squeezed Lexy’s shoulder and managed a
smile. “I’m sure it will work out fine, dear.”

A timer buzzed. “Dinner’s ready,”
Mama announced from the kitchen. She’d spent the better part of the afternoon
working on one of her creations.

The rich aroma of homemade pizza filled the air as Mama opened the oven. For a moment, I wished I was eating here.
Then I remembered she’d made Christmas pizza, and I was glad for Rafe’s
invitation to eat out.

Charla hustled us out the door. “You
kids have fun.”

I wasn’t ready to go yet. I
hadn’t given them the standard warnings about locking the door behind us and
looking out for each other while I was gone. I hadn’t kissed either of them
good night. My heels drug.

Sensing my reluctance, Rafe
halted on the porch. “We can stay here tonight if you like.”

His acceptance and understanding
cleared the doubts from my head. The girls knew the drill. I had to let go of
the reins if I was going to enjoy myself. I needed that time off, and so did my girls. Besides, Mama was here with them.

“No way,” I said. “We are eating
out and spending the evening together. No kids. I require grownup food and
grownup entertainment, if you catch my drift.”

His gaze warmed. “I like a woman who knows what she wants.”

If he kept looking at me like that, I’d jump him on the porch. Not a good idea. I needed to put things back on a less
intimate footing for my own peace of mind, so I spoke the first thing that
popped in my head. “You don’t think I’m a ball-busting, snooping Amazon with
control issues in the bedroom?”